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>>3936318

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

“Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly,” Juliet murmurs, the words seeming to come from some place deep within her, “Or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.”

“Yeah, but I didn't dream about being some lame butterfly,” Dakota points out, “I dreamed I was a wolf. It was pretty badass actually. Nobody fucks with wolves. You want to know what happens to someone who fucks with wolves? They get their throats ripped out, that's what!”

“Yes, but that is not the point,” Juliet insists, “The point is... oh, never mind. I don't think this conversation will go anywhere useful.” Dakota just playfully bares her fangs, causing Juliet to look away with a wan laugh. Then, glancing your way, her laughter fades. “Holly,” she continues, “You're, ah, very quiet. Thinking deep thoughts?”

Jerking your hand away from the eye-patch, still so unfamiliar, you give her an indifferent gesture. “Maybe I am,” you reply vaguely, “I'm wondering if I did the right thing. I mean, there's a whole bunch of things. I keep telling Coraline that I'll save her, but now I'm thinking... does she actually deserve to be saved? She helped me fight, sure, but it's not like she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. She just wanted payback. Then there was Amon himself. Taking him out... what if that causes us more problems further down the line? Pretty much all this time, I've just been reacting to whatever shit happens. Maybe I'm just making everything worse.”

A pause, the silence broken by the background clatter of a busy cafe. “Wow,” Claudia remarks eventually, “I rather preferred it when you were being quiet.”

“Hey,” Kaori warns, “That's not-”

“Oh, I was just joking,” Claudia groans, rolling her eyes, “Fine, Holly. You want some advice? Stop giving a shit about the long term. Who knows what's going to happen tomorrow, or the day after that? You could be living your perfect life, and then suddenly your house is burning down around you. You can't PLAN around something like that, so stop complaining about it. Oh, and Kaori? Before you ask, that wasn't a joke. I'm being perfectly sincere.”

“As sincere as you ever are,” Dakota points out, holding up two fingers spaced a millimetre apart, “Which is like this much.”

A ripple of laughter runs through the group, with even Claudia herself joining in. Your voices reach one of the groups nearby, and a few heads turn your way. Maybe you just glance around at the wrong time, or maybe they've been looking for a long while, but you end up staring right at a curious, even frightened, face. “Don't worry,” you snap, that idiotic expression causing your temper to flare, “It's not contagious.”

The girl hastily turns away.

[2/3]

>>3936320

“Harsh,” Kaori muses.

“But,” Claudia counters, “Not unreasonably so.”

“I never said it was unreasonable,” Kaori points out, “What I said was-”

“Enough, both of you,” you interrupt, giving them a curt gesture. They actually do fall silent, which feels strangely gratifying. Just for a moment, you feel like a proper leader. Then, of course, the sound of the cafe comes crashing back down around you and the magic is gone. “Come on, let's get back,” you decide, looking around at the crowded cafe, “I'm about sick of this place anyway.”

A murmur of agreement runs through the group, and soon you're striding out into the warm streets. The others hurry on ahead, eager to return to base, but Juliet lags behind. Slowing your pace to walk by her side, you give her a pointed look. She doesn't seem to notice your probing gaze, not for a long while at least. “I wonder if he wanted to die,” she murmurs at last, looking around at you with a jolt, “I mean, he was alone. The only one of his kind, almost. He was a total dead end,” Juliet continues, choosing her words with care, “He was created, but without the means to reproduce. As I said, he was a dead end.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, unsure where she's going with this.

“I was “created” too,” she breathes, placing a hand on her abdomen, “Do I lack the means to reproduce as well?”

Following this, an awkward silence.

>Don't make this weird, okay?
>Don't worry, you're totally different from him
>I don't know. I've never really thought about... reproduction
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3936323
>I don't know. I've never really thought about... reproduction
"If you want I can call up one of the doctors that work with BLUE EYE. He might be able to give a definitive answer... that's going to be one awkward conversation."

Welcome back Moloch. Good to see we are maintaining our ancient tradition in injuries.

>>3936323
>>Don't worry, you're totally different from him

Welcome back

>>3936323
>I don't know. I've never really thought about... reproduction.
We could get Weick or Doctor Brahms when he turns up to replace if
we can't find Bergmann. to check for her, it should be on file if NERV knows. though absolute confirmation might have to wait until this is all over as some of the tests are quite involved and would need access to a hospital.

>>3936344
Honestly at this point near endgame, if he asks I would just say "Oh I pilot those big robots that defend the city." nonchalantly.

“That's one hell of a question,” you reply at last, forcing a laugh, “But man, don't ask me. I've never even thought about, uh, reproduction.”

“Really?” Juliet asks, the innocent curiosity in her voice somehow making things all the worse. It's not an easy question to answer, or even to put into words. After everything you've seen and heard from your folks, you're not really sure if you want to, if you have any right to...

“You know, uh, you'd be better off asking a doctor about it. One of the BLUE EYE team doctors, I mean. They'd probably know more than anyone else. We could see about getting in contact with one of them, but... but man, that's going to be an awkward conversation,” you continue, vigorously shaking your head, “I don't even know who would be more embarrassed!”

Juliet stares at you, a trace of her old blankness returning. It's only the hint of a tiny smile at the side of her mouth that tells you she's joking, like a secret shared between the two of you. “Holly?” she muses, “Are you changing the subject?”

“No way!” you yelp, “Look, all I'm saying is, you're nothing like HIM. You don't need to worry about that. Just... don't let it bother you.”

“Hmm,” Juliet thinks aloud, “It seems like it's bothering YOU more than anything.”

You saved the world again, and this bullshit is the thanks you get.

-

Returning to the real world after Amon's destruction was like waking up from a long and terrible dream. You arrived just as the others, the adults, were shaking off the last of their trance. It was like watching sleepwalkers wandering about in a fantasy, only for them to slowly emerge into reality. Claudia and Dakota were the last ones to wake up fully, and it took so long that you wondered if they might ever wake up at all. But, eventually, they stirred awake.

Only a creature of Amon's terrible power could have created such a vast and total illusion. Far easier just to destroy you, but that wouldn't have been his style. That wouldn't have been... amusing. Ever since the battle, you've been wondering what could have happened if Amon hadn't devoted such a large portion of his power to creating the nightmare. He must have known that he had been weakening himself, but he did it anyway – just to set an appropriate stage for your confrontation.

It's maddening. If you can't get these doubts and fears out of your head, you really are going to go mad. It's easier said than done, though, when every glance in a mirror reminds you of their cause. Then there's Clay, and everyone else at school. How are you going to explain this to them?

“Just tell them it was an accident,” Claudia suggests, “And beat the crap out of anyone who asks too many questions.”

You look sharply around, meeting her haughty smile with a sharp glare.

“You were thinking aloud,” she points out, “Bad habit, that.”

[1/?]

>>3936355
>And beat the crap out of anyone who asks too many questions
nah, just tell them it happened the day before, and that you WISH you were too drunk to remember. Technically not a lie

>>3936355

Monroe's office was going to be your first stop upon arriving back at HQ, but the woman is already waiting for you all at the entrance. She flashes a tight smile of greeting, but her eyes remain troubled. “Hello everyone!” she calls out, “How was your day off?”

“I mean, nothing was trying to kill us,” you reply, “So that made a nice change.”

“Well...” Monroe begins, her smile growing pained, “Well that's good, isn't it? Let's keep this up for as long as possible!” Gesturing for you all to follow her, she starts off towards her office. “I know you've all been through a lot, and I wish I could give you some more time off – some proper time off – but that just isn't possible right now,” she continues as she walks, her words jumpy with nervous energy, “The Dirac Probe has picked up a reading – probably Lilim in nature. It's deep, and the target appears to be dormant, but we can't afford to relax too much. Not until we have confirmation of anything, at least.”

“If it's dormant, then we should kill it,” Claudia points out, “Cut the beast's throat while it sleeps.”

“But a direct attack might cause it to wake up, yes?” Yulia counters, “And, I think, we are not in such a good condition for a battle.”

>Current Ego: 44/70

“Not if we can help it,” you agree, albeit reluctantly, “I wouldn't normally back down from a fight, but... not so soon after the last one.” Monroe nods, as if relieved by your words. There's something else there, a flicker in her eyes that you don't like very much at all. “Anyway, chief, can we just get a status update?” you continue, “Like, what's our next mission? And if you tell me it's an exploratory mission, I'm going to scream.”

This draws a few uneasy laughs. “No, nothing like that,” Monroe assures you, “Actually, we don't have a new operation planned yet. Right now, planning things is...” She pauses here, almost says something before deciding against it. “Doctor Bergmann is in UN custody. I believe Fletcher told you, but things... well, they got a little confused. For the sake of confirmation, and so you're all on the same page, here's the situation,” Monroe explains, “Doctor Bergmann was wounded at her cabin. Fletcher's team was able to recover them, but they were intercepted on the way back home. A group of what we assume were UN soldiers took her into custody. We're still working on finding out more.”

“So that's what really happened,” you murmur to yourself, “I thought maybe...”

“You thought she died?” Monroe asks quietly, “You almost sound disappointed.”

>Maybe I am. Could you blame me?
>It's not that. I'm just confused by the whole thing
>Forget that. How do we rescue her?
>It's... (Write in)
>Other

>>3936392
>Forget that. How do we rescue her?
For safekeeping purposes.

>>3936392
>It's not that. I'm just confused by the whole thing
"I was told a bunch of different versions of that story during our episode with Adrian. Didn't know which one was the truth if any. I'm also wondering which one of our 'bosses' took her. Wouldn't have been 04 considering..."

>Other
"What about Huang? Did Fletcher pick up her trail?"

>>3936392
>>It's not that. I'm just confused by the whole thing

>>3936392
>I was hoping Huang wouldn't have gotten dragged back in

>>3936392
>Forget that. How do we rescue her?
Depending on where she is, and who has custody. Other targets of opportunity are: Julia, Johanna and Huang.

We should see if we can get back into contact with Elrow and inform him of Amon's death, and postulate on the possible existence of a 2nd set of cloning and imprinting facilities, After all the clone of Johanna had to come from somewhere. Both Temple and Academy should log the genetics of the cloned / imprinted bodies compare that against Johanna's file if she isn't in there we should look for any outbound Biomass transfers to suspicious locations, assuming that Matheson is holding them somewhere that isn't Temple, and if all else fails we can go bodiless scout the known locations to see if we can find anyone that we are looking for.


Simply knowing that Amon is dead, will shift the balance of power towards Leighton's faction, (once Elrow reappears it will allow them to leave Matheson high and dry in a 3 on
1 scenario, or cause a deadlock via 2 on 2)

>>3936392
>its a bit confusing yeah. One time she was kidnapped, the others dead. But fuck matheson more than bergman

“It's not that, I'm just confused by this whole mess,” you concede, wearily shaking your head, “I heard so many different versions of events, each one getting worse and worse, and it's still hard to really believe... anything, really. It's not even like we've got all the answers, is it? We don't even know who took Bergmann. Not like, beyond all doubt. Could have been any of our, uh, benevolent leaders really. Then there's Huang. I didn't want her to get dragged into this, but...”

“Life is rarely that kind,” Monroe sighs, “I wish I had some good news to give you on that front, I really do.”

“Do we have anything to go on?” you press, “Was Fletcher able to pick up her trail?”

“Unfortunately not. He's got his theories, though – he assumes that they must have been taken somewhere close by, at least temporarily. Huang's old prison, perhaps. Even if they were moved on, it's a good place to start a search. But...” she shrugs angrily, “But I guess that's HIS job, not mine. He's off doing some work of his own, and he won't tell me anything. He said he'd explain later, if there was anything TO explain.”

Your heart sinks. This is the worst time for sneaking around and keeping secrets, but some people just can't help themselves. “So forget all that,” you announce bluntly, “How do we rescue them? We can't just sit around and wait for Fletcher to do all the work!”

“I have a good mind just to show up at the prison and demand to take a look around,” Monroe admits, “But... well, that might just make things worse. I'm not ruling it out yet, but I don't want to provoke them. My main worry is that they'll take Huang and Ingrid back to Berlin. Academy is a fortress, there's no way we'd be able to get inside without a fight. Even if it's a fight we could win, the casualties... I don't know. I don't want to be the one who unleashes ADM Units on our own side. The Chinese operation was bad enough, but this... I can't bear the thought of it.”

None of you can, if the cold silence that follows is any indication.

“I need some time to think,” Monroe adds suddenly, touching her head as if pained, “I'm sorry. Can we finish this conversation later?”

-

“So she's hiding something from us, right?” Claudia announces, “She's barely even trying to hide it.”

“She'll tell us in her own time,” Kaori argues, “If you don't understand the full situation, it's easy to make foolish decisions. Maybe she's waiting until she has the full picture before briefing us on what's going on.” She pauses, looking across at the blank television screen. “But... it's frustrating for us too,” she concedes eventually, “I can't shake the feeling that something is going very wrong.”

“Something already went very wrong!” Dakota groans, “Like, pretty fucking recently!”

“Something ELSE is going wrong, then,” Kaori corrects herself, grimacing quietly.

[1/?]

>>3936438

Lying back in your bed, you stare up at the ceiling and consider the situation. It's hard to get a good picture of it. When you try to imagine the situation as a shape, all you can come up with is a formless blob. Too many things are in flux right now, warping and twisting as time goes on. Dakota was right, in a way. The fallout from Amon's nightmare is hard to shake off, lending reality a sense of the unreal.

A light knock at your door causes you to sit up. Kaori enters cautiously, holding up a carrying case. “The light in my room keeps flickering. It's annoying,” she explains vaguely, “I wanted to check over some of my models. Do you mind if I do it in here?”

“I guess not?” you reply with a shrug, “What about the main room, though?”

“The last time I tried that, Yulia noticed me. She kept trying to dismantle one of my models to see how it was put together,” she answers, frowning slightly, “I think I'd prefer the flickering light. But, if you really don't mind...” Even as she says this, Kaori sits down at your desk and opens the case. Taking out one of the model pistols, she studies it with a piercing eye before producing a small cleaning brush. “We're getting close to the end,” she murmurs, “Lilith was said to have sixteen children. I'm concerned, though. What if the last of them are even more powerful than Amon?”

“We'll find a way to beat them,” you promise, “We have to. We don't have any other options.”

“Of course, the Lilim aren't our only enemies. We have... her,” Kaori pauses, “And that's not considering the UN. I didn't want to say this in front of the others, but I think that's what Commander Monroe is worried about. I hope I'm wrong, but... but I'm scared.”

“Of the UN?” you ask, feeling foolish. Feeling foolish and clumsy and never able to say the right thing.

“Of what we might have to do,” Kaori answers simply.

You say nothing. There is no sound, save for the tiny rustle of her cleaning brush. You find yourself thinking about the BLUE EYE team, of facing them on the battlefield. Deep down, that's what they were born to do – they might not know it themselves, but their purpose was decided since before they were even created. Would they hold back? Would you? The questions gnaw at you, but the silence is so much worse. You need to say something, anything, to break it.

“See how Dakota turned into that wolf cub?” you blurt out, already wincing at your own words, “How fucked up was that?”

Kaori freezes. With her back to you you can't see her expression, but her shoulders silently shudder. Is she... crying?

“Maybe...” she gasps, startled laughter escaping her, “Maybe she's a werewolf!”

After a moment, you find yourself laughing along with her. It's such a dumb thing to say, but...

>But... (Write in)
>Other

>>3936537
I'm not sure I understand the prompt here, but I'll try and put something.

>But... (Write in)
"I was pretty scared you know? Of waking up after the fight and having her and Claudia still be missing. The bastard really got one over us didn't he?"

>Other
Regarding BLUE EYE, maybe in their brainwashing there is an [Stand Down] command or something. If we could find out their 'triggers' we might be able to defuse a situation if it comes to it. Or better yet find a way to free them from their conditioning like I think we did Juliet.

>>3936537
>Other
"We don't need to be afraid of what we'll do or what they'll do, Claudia's right in that regard. I was scared about the conspiracies, their plots and schemes for months, and the only thing I could do in the end is to get in the robot and punch my way out of the problem. And if I can't, fuck it, it's my problem no longer."

I suppose reality unraveling before our eyes gets things into perspective. Old men can do whatever but if we try to follow their steps we'll end up like them.

>>3936537
>But... (Write in)
Looks like we're going to need to stock up on silver, won't we.

We have a couple of outstanding issues that we need to go over with Kaori, and see if she can provide any additional information,
What actually happened during the fight with Berith, based on what little we got from Redpath something went down regarding Karinia.

Provide an overview of what is going on at Academy and Temple in regards to the cloning program, mentioning Julia and the Blue Eye team would also be useful.

>>3936555
Based on Notes that Matheson wrote, they fixed the Engram problem with the second generation of clones. If this still impacts "#8" might be worth looking into.

>>3936537
>>But... (Write in)
We shouldn't be afraid of them anymore. Whatever they throw at us we'll handle it in our way. It might be time to start making our own moves

>>3936537
"Whatever happens, whatever we have to do, we can only really rely on each other. Fletcher's off doing spy shit, Monroe's keeping secrets. Who knows what dumb shit SEELE has planned. It sucks, but we've gotten this far, yeah?"

>>3936537
>"Did Claudia ever mention what she dreamed of? Getting lead into the abyss by her mother, who apparently also dyes her hair blue."

It's a pretty dumb thing to say, but you can understand the thought behind it. It's the same thought behind your own crude, blurted out comment – a way to relieve the pressure, to laugh some of the tension away. “Man, that's a good a guess as any. I didn't even know what to think when I saw it. Then waking up and nobody remembered her? It's like...” you pause, “It's like, I wasn't sure if Claudia and Dakota would wake up at all.”

“Well, maybe Dakota would have woken up sooner if it had been a full moon,” Kaori suggests, hiding a brittle little smile, “As for Claudia... I don't know, would she be a vampire?”

“Maybe a...” you stop, thinking this over, “I don't know, actually. Some kind of monster, sure, but what? I mean she's an Anglo, that's already pretty bad...”

This just starts Kaori laughing again. “Oh, I feel like I'm losing my mind!” she admits, “We shouldn't be laughing like this, should we? Talking about the others like this, it's so horrible, but... I don't know, I think they'd forgive us just this once. Considering the circumstances.”

“Considering the circumstances,” you agree with a nod, “That bastard really got one over on us, huh?” Crossing over to the desk, you lean over Kaori's shoulder and pick up one of the model guns. It's heavy enough, but you could never mistake it for the real thing. There's a sense of silence malice in a real gun that these fakes lack. Placing the gun back down, you slap Kaori lightly on the shoulder. “I hate to admit it, but Claudia is right about one thing,” you suggest, “We can't waste our time worrying about what they're going to do or make US do. At the end of the day, we can only do so much. If that means jumping in a robot and punching shit... I guess that's what we're going to have to do.”

“I just feel like we're losing control. Not just us, but the other side too. This whole situation is spiralling out of control, and none of us can stop it,” Kaori pauses, “None of us WANT to stop it!”

“We're all waiting for the other side to back down first. Yeah, I know, and it sucks,” you admit, “All we can do is rely on each other. Us pilots. Monroe is keeping secrets, Fletcher is doing his spy shit again, and SEELE are... I don't even want to know what they're doing. That's out of my hands, our hands, but we can look out for each other. That's what I'm going to do, and I'll be a lot happier if I've got you with me.”

Kaori opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again and nods firmly. “I'll be watching your back, every step of the way,” she promises, meeting your gaze, “I can't speak for the others, of course, but I think they'd all say the same thing. Even Claudia.”

Every step of the way...

>Ego increased by 5
>Current Ego: 49/70

[1/?]

>>3936537
>Do you want to know what UN would pull out? WHO they would pull out?
>Hey Kaori, no matter what, don't die. We can think and worry all we want about what's right, but when there's a gun in your face it's okay to not die.

>>3936654

“Speaking of Claudia, though, did you ever hear about what SHE dreamed about?” you ask, “She vanished into that illusory manor, following a woman with blue hair. Do you think that was her mother? I think she had blue hair as well, or...”

“I don't think she's ever mentioned her mother. Not to me, at least,” Kaori admits with a shrug, “But we're not exactly... close.”

“I don't think she's close to anyone,” you sigh. Again, Kaori almost says something before changing her mind and falling silent. “You know, there were times when I thought she might end up on their side,” you add, frowning slightly to yourself, “Not now. They've jerked us all around too much for that. Doesn't mean they won't have soldiers of their own, though. You know what I mean?”

A pause. “There are other ADM Units, but...” Kaori ventures, doubt seeping into her voice, “Something tells me you're not talking about those.”

“When I was in Berlin, I met their BLUE EYE team. Pilots of their own, with some kind of... I don't know exactly, some kind of new generation ADM Units. If it's war, those girls might end up being our enemies,” you explain slowly, carefully, “But Kaori? It's okay not to die. If someone puts a gun in your face, it's okay to fight. You've got that right.”

“Girls like us...” Kaori murmurs, clenching her eyes tightly shut.

-

Murmuring some excuse about her light, Kaori packs up her things and slips out of your room. You follow, watching as she retreats into her room and closes the door tightly behind her. Glancing aside, you spot Claudia lounging by the TV. With her long body stretched out across the entire length of the sofa, she looks utterly at ease. Compared with Kaori's brittle smiles and skittish laughs, the contrast is like a slap in the face.

“Hey princess!” you call out, “Did your mom dye her hair blue too?”

“How should I know?” Claudia replies immediately, not even bothering to open her eyes, “Never met her.”

“Oh,” you pause, the answer taking you by surprise, “Uh...”

“She died. Apparently, I was a difficult child even from day one. The birth was hard, and there were no doctors available to, you know, save her life,” she explains, her words curt and carefully formed, “I must sound awfully callous right now, mustn't I? I can't help it, though. How am I supposed to mourn the loss of someone I never knew? I had Father, and I had Hester. That was enough for me.”

“You had your father, you had Hester... and you had the woman in the painting,” you suggest, trusting your gut instinct, “Right?”

Finally sitting up, Claudia opens her eyes and gives you an ugly glare. That's all the answer you need.

[2/3]

>>3936755

“It's pathetic, isn't it?” Claudia spits eventually, “Retreating into some fantasy version of the past, led off into the abyss by a woman who was never real. Yes yes, go ahead and laugh. I'm not exactly proud of it either.”

“What are you...” you blurt out, “Is THAT what happened?”

“Yes Holly, that IS what happened,” she snarls, “I saw that which no longer exists in this world, and like a fool I chased after it. Maybe it still exists somewhere deep in that ocean, complete with a fake little version of me. Well, I hope they're very happy together.” Turning away with an explosive sigh, she sits back down on the sofa and clicks on the television. Skipping through the channels for a few moments, she finally lands on some old World War One documentary. Artillery thunders away as men leap from the trench and charge to their deaths.

“Claudia-” you begin, but she just turns up the volume until you're drowned out by the crash and roar of explosions. Throwing your hands up in disgust, you give up trying to talk with her and march back to your room. As you reach for the handle, the next door over flies open and Dakota sticks her head out.

“What's with all the noise?” she barks, “Fuck me, it sounds like World War One out here!”

>So I think I'm going to pause things here for today. I'll be aiming to continue tomorrow, and I should be able to run a few extra days next week. Have to see how it goes, though
>Sorry for the delays today, I still feel pretty rusty after that time off

>>3936785
Thanks for running.

Just take your time.

>>3936785
Thanks for running, Moloch. Good to have you back.

>>3936785
Thanks for the run.

At least Holly didn't decide to break her nose this time.

>>3936785
Thanks for running!

How does Dakota know what WW1 sounds like when she grew up in a cave?

>>3936862
Old movies mostly. Get yourself a generator, a projector and a bedsheet, and that's movie night!

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You have all your excuses planned out, some involved fantasy involving birthday fireworks and a little too much excitement, but it's all for nothing. When you arrive at school, Clay is absent and nobody else dares ask. All that work, wasted. Spending most of the day in a foul mood, things only got worse when you sat down for a history lesson about Second Impact. Watching the grim slideshow, pictures of permanently mutilated shorelines and ruined cities, all you can see is SEELE's handiwork.

Kaori was worried that things were spiralling out of your control. Watching the presentation and listening to the dry lecture, you're left to wonder if it was EVEN under control. The pieces were set in place before you were even born, and since then they've just been falling one by one.

Fletcher would probably have some smart comment about that. He should be here right now, either to explain what the hell is going on or just so you could yell at him for a bit. Instead, he's off doing... stuff. Secret stuff, presumably. You're still thinking about him when you leave for the day, hurrying to the main gate and then pausing at the sight of Monroe's car waiting outside. Monroe doesn't look up as you approach, her eyes glued to her phone. A firm knock on the window causes her to jolt up, reaching across to fumble open the door and dropping her phone. Swiping it, you start to hand the little device over before a glimpse of the screen gives you pause.

“SurfBoy96,” you read aloud, looking at the guy's shirtless picture, “Friend of yours?”

“Um...” Monroe stammers, “I know what this looks like, but-”

“Don't bother. Just... don't bother,” you interrupt, getting in the car and slamming the door, “Wait, “96”? If that's his date of birth, wouldn't that-”

“School!” she yelps, snatching the phone out of your hands and thrusting it into her pocket, “I mean, uh, how was school?”

“Shit,” you answer bluntly, “I got this buddy, and I was looking forwards to telling him a cool story about my eye, but he never showed up today. Didn't call in absent either, so who even knows what's going on there.”

Monroe's mouth tightens slightly, but she doesn't say anything for a few moments. Forcing her face to relax, she smiles again. “Well, that's too bad. I wasn't sure how you'd be feeling, so I came to give you a lift home. If you've had a lousy day, the last thing you want to do is trudge all the way home. Put your seatbelt on, okay? This is a safety conscious car!” she announces, revving the engine, “Oh, but I just need to make a quick stop on the way home. It'll be real quick, I promise!”

“I don't mind walking home,” you protest, “I'm half-blind, not paralysed. I can-”

With a lurch, the car leaps into motion and carries you away into the maze of city streets.

[1/3]

>>3937884

When Monroe mentioned an errand, you never imagined you'd end up here. Bergmann's apartment looms high above you, seeming oddly sinister now that the doctor is MIA. There must be hundreds of people still living there, but it feels like a long-abandoned ruin. Humming softly to herself as you ride the elevator up to the right floor, Monroe nervously toys with her oversized shoulder bag. The feeling of walking through a haunted house doesn't go away, even as you walk through the corridor. It's too quiet, for one thing. It could just be down to thick, soundproof walls, but...

“So, uh, why are we here?” you ask, finally giving voice to the obvious question.

“I'm not really sure,” Monroe admits, “I hoped Ingrid might have left something in her apartment, but... well, that's doubtful. She was careful about these things. So, I suppose I'm just coming here for inspiration. A change of scenery might do me some good. Staring at those office walls was starting to grate on my nerves.”

“Ironic,” you quip, “You know, nerves, NERV...”

Monroe turns around, giving you a dubious look.

“Sorry,” you concede.

-

You don't ask where Monroe gets her key, and she doesn't tell you. Either way, she unlocks the door and lets you into the darkened apartment. The lights, hooked up to some sensor, click on automatically. Taken by surprise, Monroe gasps and reaches for her shoulder bag before pausing, slowly withdrawing her hand. “I hate those things,” she mumbles, “Visited one of those new smart homes once, and it kept talking to me. I opened the refrigerator and it started giving me diet advice. Awful place!”

There's not much you can say to that, is there? Instead, you allow your gaze to wander freely around the apartment, It doesn't really feel like a place that a human being lived in, and you're left to wonder just how often Bergmann came here. The walls are still lined with old photographs, the bookshelves are still heavy with obscure texts, and the furniture is still mostly unused.

Your eye is drawn back to the picture of Bergmann at the Syrian dig site. Bloodied and bandaged, she nevertheless burns with pride as she stands beside the Akashic Record. If she knew then what you know now...

“Let me know if you find any papers,” Monroe calls out, “Any documents, any notes, any...”

“Anything at all?” you ask, “Look, chief, what's this really about? And don't tell me that you just came here to stare at the scenery, because I don't buy that for a second.”

Monroe hesitates, then sighs. “These past few days, I've been working on a project. A theory I've been looking into. I was hoping that Ingrid had had the same idea. She might have done some of the hard work for me,” she begins, “It's starting to look unlikely. I suppose she had other things on her mind. Even so...”

[2/3]

>>3937888

“So, um, the short version is, I was hoping Ingrid might have had some population reports. I figured she might be interested in that kind of thing – she told me about a study in post Second Impact birth rates once, but it was all a little too technical for me. Now that I'm the one trying to do my homework, of course she's nowhere to be found,” Monroe explains, offering you a humourless laugh, “Just my luck!”

“Birth rates?” you ask, frowning enormously, “Why is everyone trying to talk to me about reproduction lately?”

“Strictly speaking, it's not birth rates I was interested in, but-” Monroe pauses, “What's this about reproduction?”

“Can we like, not talk about this?” you plead, “I don't even really need to be here, do I?”

“Well... no, not really. I suppose I just felt less like a criminal if I had someone here with me,” she admits with a laugh, less forced this time, “If you want to head off, feel free. It can't be much fun, being stuck in this stuffy old apartment with me. Go on, call one of the others and have some fun! These days, we need to make the most of our free time. You never know when something might go wrong and... well, you never know what might happen.”

She's got a point, of course. Murmuring an excuse, you slip out of the apartment and lean back against the outside wall. Glancing at your phone, you scroll through the names of your fellow pilots. One of the perks of being the unofficial team leader, you can be pretty sure that anyone you call would answer your invitation. Well... maybe not Karina, but that's not through any lack of will.

The question is, where to start?

>Better to stick around here. Maybe you can get the long version of Monroe's theory
>If Karina can't come out, you'll pay her a visit in person
>Call up one of the other pilots and go out... (Who?)
>You've got something else in mind... (Write in)
>Other

>>3937889
>>Better to stick around here. Maybe you can get the long version of Monroe's theory
Better see this through. Whatever it is.

>>3937889
>Better to stick around here. Maybe you can get the long version of Monroe's theory.

If she was planning to keep her research from leaking, it's all going to be in paper, in the one place and probably with a dead man's switch somewhere.

>>3937889
>Better to stick around here. Maybe you can get the long version of Monroe's theory
"Why would it be at her apartment, and not in the lab, anyway? And on paper, no less? Sounds like the short version is too short."

Sounds like she's digging for something else under the pretense. I get the feeling that they are probably looking for mass disappearances (written off as dead) to figure out where someone else could be manufacturing ADMs and estimate how many, but come on, paper reports?
A wildest connection would be to call Holly's dad to ask: who's buying all the damn food? On the chance that factories are growing clones instead of kidnapping people, they'll need harvested biomass. The non-creepy kind.

But that's only if we're interested in going full paranoia mode again, which is something we have very little control of, as it turns out.

Studying your phone for a moment more, you quickly tap out a message to Kaori – just letting her know that you might be late back. Then, pocketing the phone, you return inside to find Monroe peering under the bed. She's too focused on her search to notice you, although the bulky shoulder bag rests within hand's reach. You watch for a few moments, wearily amused, before clearing your throat. Hurriedly hopping to her feet, Monroe knocks the bag with her foot and spills it over. Along with the cosmetics and a half-eaten chocolate bar that spill out, you spot the ugly form of a holstered pistol.

Monroe stares down at the gun as if seeing it for the very first time, slowly stooping down and tidying it back into her bag. “Can't be too careful these days,” she declares vaguely, brushing down her clothes.

“Sensible enough,” you agree, “Just don't go shooting your foot off, okay?”

“Hey, I'm a professional!” Monroe protests, “I'm not going to... w-well, never mind that, what are you doing here? I thought you went home!”

“I figured I'd stick around for a bit, see if I could help out,” you tell her, shrugging slightly, “And I kinda want to hear the long version of your theory. That short version got me curious.”

Monroe considers this, then sits down on Bergmann's bed and makes herself comfortable. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she launches into it.

-

“Population figures are a pretty popular area of study these days. You've got a few different approaches – birth levels and mortality rates are the most common things to look at,” Monroe begins, “But recently, I've been wondering if there's something else – something that we've been missing.”

She pauses, as if unsure of herself, but you gesture for her to continue.

“Do you remember the riot at the Lilim portal? Well, I got a tip from one of my sources in the police. They were trying to find one of the protestors to ask a few follow-up questions, but the guy was nowhere to be found,” Monroe explains, “That was the first thing, but it reminded me of a passing comment I heard, some construction site that was having trouble keeping workers. I dug a little deeper. Not so much into the protestor himself, but on a wider scale. I wasn't really looking anywhere specific, just looking at... I don't know, civic work records and school attendance reports, that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing,” you repeat slowly, “What did you find?”

“Disappearances,” she remarks, “People just... not turning up to work one day, or not going home after their shift. Not huge numbers, not enough to present an obvious problem, but it's really happening. Generalising a little, you start to see common trends - a loner, someone without much to connect them to the world, often without family or any real social group. Often, it takes people a few days to notice their absence. Again, it's a bit of a general profile but...”

[1/?]

>>3937905
Considering what Coraline has been doing on in south America for quite some time now, they may eventually figure out
After they eventually succeed in
re-creating a stable S^2 organ, any clones that they produce aren't going to need to eat, and they are going to have access to some pretty powerful AT Abilities as standard.

Looks like we're off to find Clay, at we got him to give us his phone number, we should see where his phone is.

>>3937913
>someone without much to connect them to the world
Maybe it's spontaneous tanging? Having something to connect to someone is how we saved that girl in France. Something about 2nd impact weakened our ability to hold our form?

>>3937932
It could also be; A latent effect of the Belial dust, Matheson singing, Nate and Adam passively exerting their influence over humanity , a new Lilium, a little bit of all of them or something else entirely.

>>3937905

“Huh,” you muse, “When you said disappearances, I thought you'd be looking at... you know, mass disappearances. Like the ones up north, with Nebiros, or that shit in China. This sounds too small scale for that.” Pausing for a moment, you shrug as a new idea comes to mind. “How do you know that these people aren't just... leaving? If there's nothing keeping them here, why stick around?” you suggest, “This place, this city, doesn't feel all that safe these days.”

“I can't exactly rule that out, no. But then, not all of the missing were loners. Some had family. Wouldn't you bring them with you if you were going to leave?” Monroe frowns, “And... there's something else. The figures I looked at, they showed a big spike in the rate of unexplained disappearances. The increase came a few days after Belial was confirmed as destroyed.”

You look sharply around at the mention of the Lilim's name. “Belial? You mean...” you pause, “Has this got something to do with that shit it's been leaking into the atmosphere?”

“I don't know! Even if it IS a factor, it could just be a psychological one. Knowing that that thing is up there, doing God knows what, that's been a PR nightmare for us. At this point, it doesn't NEED to have any effect on people. It's done enough damage already,” Monroe gestures around the empty apartment with a sigh, “But all this, it's way over my head. Ingrid might be able to understand it, but she's not here. I feel like I've got all the pieces, at least most of them, but I can't quite put them together.”

Wandering through to the kitchen, Monroe searches through the refrigerator and emerges with a bottle of white wine. Sloshing some into a glass without checking the label, she sits down and drinks. As she steadies her nerves, you return to the old photographs. Even then, you're not really seeing them – you look through them, your mind pecking away at different ideas. If not mass abductions for biomass production... small scale abductions, to replace the missing people with clones? Perfectly obedient clones, ready to be turned into spies or double agents at the proper signal – the idea has the air of an alien invasion, but you can't rule it out. You can't rule ANYTHING out these days.

But the thought of biomass and clone production leads you to thoughts of Temple. Is that where “Johanna” was created, or are there other facilities hidden away? If there was a secret facility, fuelled by illicit biomass, SEELE – or Matheson herself – could produce clones outside of any “official” process. But without harvesting biomass from humans, or from Adam's slumbering corpse, where would they get it?

“Holly?” Monroe asks, and you jump as her words startle you back to reality, “Are you okay?”

“Me?” you yelp, “I'm fine, I'm okay. Just totally... fine and okay.”

[2/3]

>>3937941
If we need a genius doctor to understand this stuff we could take it to Quentin Brahms

>>3937941
We should totally look into where she got ,johanna, from

>>3937941

Monroe studies you for a moment before looking away, pouring a second glass of wine. “Looks like we're walking home today,” she muses, filling her glass with the chilled liquid, “Well, it's good exercise. Ten thousand steps a day and all that.”

Nodding, you check your phone for a moment. As you're putting it away, and idea strikes you. Pulling up Clay's number, you dial and listen to the phone ring and ring. You feel your heart sink as the phone keeps on ringing. There could be any number of answers, of course – he could have his phone on silent, he might be asleep, he might be ignoring you, he might be...

He might be dead, abducted, or worse.

“I told you about that friend of mine, right? The one who never showed up at school today,” you ask, voice hollow, “You think he's... missing, don't you?”

“It's... not impossible,” she ventures, clearly unwilling to say what she really believes, “Kids cut class all the time. Maybe he just didn't feel like coming in today. I'm not trying to say... I mean, you've got every right to be worried about him. I understand, I really do, but it's still too early to say anything for certain. This boy, does he have... um, I don't really know how to put this, but does he have a hard life at home? What can you tell me about him?”

“Clay? He's about my age, and...” you begin, “And we play baseball sometimes, I guess.”

Monroe waits patiently for you to continue, but the words just won't come.

>That's it, I guess. I don't know what else to tell you
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3937983
Ill drive us home! Cant be too hard right?

>>3937983
>There's something else... (Write in)
"I think he might have a domestic abuse situation. It's something I saw, a injury that he was going to explain away with some excuse. Kind of like what I was going to do now that I think about it. But yes, 'Hard life at home' is how I would put it."

>>3937983
>I have reason to suspect his home life may be difficult, yes.

>>3937983
>There's something else... (Write in)
We can treat it as an insight as to what could be happening. Suppose he's gone, like these people you're looking for, we'd be on a hot trail, we could ask school, his family and stuff (maybe assign someone on this case, not do this personally). If he is not gone, well... maybe he heard rumors or something. From what I gather, none of the NERV staff except Fletcher really know what could be happening right under their noses, because they're all at the base most of the time.

>>3937983
>There's something else... (Write in)
We can confirm that based on what we saw, he doesn't have the easiest life at home, something else we can bring up is that Blue car that he may have seen.



Thread #2 post>>3409387
Thread #15 post >>3866772

“It's... hard to explain, but yeah. Yeah, I think he might have it tough. I saw him at home once, and he was kinda hurt. He was thinking about how to explain it at school, trying to come up with a decent excuse, and he felt...” you pause again, “So, yeah, I guess I'm not the only one who lies about getting knocked around. Do you really think that has something to do with him going missing?”

“It would certainly give him a reason to run away from home, even without any other outside influence,” Monroe muses, “At the very least, it wouldn't give him much reason to stick around.”

“We can get the police involved, right?” you press, “I mean, they could help track him down, right?”

Monroe nods firmly. “Absolutely. If he IS being abused at home, we have a duty to inform them. This gives us a real, solid lead – I'll hit up some of my sources in the police, see if we can dig through the surveillance archives for any sign of him. They can do wonders with facial recognition these days, so hopefully the machines can do all the heavy lifting,” she remarks, a trace of excitement in her voice, “Thank you, Holly, thank you. This could really help!”

Taken aback by the sudden enthusiasm, you manage to nod as Monroe's phone chimes. Grabbing It, she listens for a moment and nods. “Yes? Good, we'll be back soon. Is that...” a pause, “No, of course. Better to talk later. We're on our way back now. She's with me now, do you want to...? Okay, I'll see you later.”

“I'm guessing that wasn't SurfBoy96,” you remark, your words causing her to wince.

“Fletcher,” she replies tightly, “He's back. He won't say much more than that over the phone, though. I guess we'd better head back. I hope you've got your walking shoes on!”

“Ah, give me the keys, I'll drive us back,” you joke, giving the older woman an eager gesture, “How hard can it be?”

With a deep frown, Monroe shakes her head.

-

The minute you step outside, you get a bad feeling. While you were searching Bergmann's apartment, a dense layer of heavy clouds drifted overhead. Now it's just sitting there, threatening all kinds of terrible weather. Trading an uneasy glance with Monroe, you start to hurry off towards HQ. You get about a third of the way before the first raindrop falls, splashing coldly against the back of your neck, and more soon follow. Grabbing you by the sleeve, Monroe pulls you into the shelter of a nearby cafe before the downpour really begins.

“You need to be careful about the rain,” she cautions, sitting down at one of the scarred tables, “Get soaking wet and the next thing you know, you've got a nasty cold. A bad case of the sniffles would really spoil your reunion with Clay, wouldn't it?”

“C'mon...” you grumble, “It's not like that...”

Monroe just smiles.

[1/?]

>>3938017

Rain hammers down outside, the gutters rushing with water as the violent downpour drags on. Monroe gazes out the window with weary eyes, waiting for Fletcher to arrive. You only heard one half of the terse phone call, but he seemed oddly reluctant to join you. Maybe this is too public for him, even if you won't be talking shop. Either way, it put a dampener on the mood. Neither of you says it, but you're both thinking the same thing – it's getting harder to know whose side Fletcher is really on.

“I shouldn't have had that wine,” Monroe says suddenly, “Sorry. Bad idea.”

“The weather report said clear skies all day,” you reply vaguely, “This came out of nowhere.”

“Weather reports haven't been worth much since Second Impact. You might as well ask a priest,” she sighs, swirling the cooling dregs of her coffee in the cup, “I worry, sometimes, about the world we're leaving for you kids. We've done so much damage, and now we're relying on you to fight our battles for us. It makes me sick sometimes, it really does, but I'm no better than anyone else. What have I done to make the world a better place?”

You're not sure what to say to that. Fortunately, you don't have to say anything.

A bell jingles, and you both look around to see Fletcher entering the cafe. As he shakes rainwater from his collar, you notice the sharp gleam in his eyes. He's got an expression like a bare blade, harsh and unwelcoming. With a curt nod, he gesture to you and leads you out to the waiting car. Monroe sits beside him, leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Without a reply, Fletcher drives off towards HQ as the rain streaks across the windscreen. After a short drive in silence, he speaks up.

“Not much to report,” he announces, “I reached out to some sources, looking for any trace of Doctor Bergmann. Nothing – and some of my “old friends” are refusing to talk to me. They're sensing trouble, and they're staying well away from me. Can't say I blame them really, I'd be doing the same thing in their position.” He pauses, slowing down and glaring suspiciously at a dark SUV that crawls past. When the hulking car vanishes off around the next junction, he continues on ahead. “I want to run some extra security drills,” he adds, “As soon as possible. Commander Monroe, will that be a problem?”

“No problem at all,” Monroe answers, “Just forward the details to me later. Holly, what do you say?”

>A bit of extra preparation sounds like a great idea
>Security drills won't make any difference, and you know it
>Never mind security drills, there's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3938049
>A bit of extra preparation sounds like a great idea
Not having depth perception is going to cause problems and an important thing that we are going to need to overcome.

>>3938049
>A bit of extra preparation sounds like a great idea
"I'm going to need to learn how to shoot with one eye anyways."

>Never mind security drills, there's something else... (Write in)
"I thought you were tight with Leighton and his 'friend'. Have you asked if they have her cause that would rule out half of SEELE and Matheson is the one that tried to kill her so that would leave Kinsley. Unless you're telling me that they all mended fences after Amon's death or that Leighton is playing his own game without you."

>>3938049
>Security drills won't make any difference, and you know it
Something like that might even hurt morale.

>>3938049
>Security drills won't make any difference, and you know it

On the other hand, we did scout out a backup Bergmann

>>3938049
>>Never mind security drills, there's something else... (Write in)
Tell me you at least have something on Huang.

>>3938089
Sadly Bergmann is the only one who might be able to help with Nate's emergence and possibly the way to kill Lilith since that's her "plan".

>>3938049
Security drills might help, but emergency evacuation and gathering points might matter more

Security drills? If the UN unleash their fighting machines, it's hard to imagine what some security drills would achieve. Are you supposed to follow an orderly evacuation plan while those things are tearing their way into the base? Besides, announcing a new set of training drills now might just prompt difficult questions. If the rest of the base staff realise you're preparing for war, what would that do for morale?

“Security drills won't make any difference, and you know it,” you point out, unable to keep a note of bitterness from your voice.

“Holly!” Monroe cries out, aghast.

“She's right,” Fletcher concedes, “If the UN forces declare full-scale war on us, nothing we could do will be enough to prepare for it. In a situation like that, all we can do is buy time for you and the other pilots. Once you have your ADM Units operational, we might stand a chance. Until then, it'll be a hopeless fight. I just need our people to stay calm long enough for you to do your part. That's all that matters... and that's what I'll be training them to do. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

In other words, he's not training the bridge staff to survive. The admission, so blunt and callous, shocks you into silence. “I guess I do,” you mutter at last, “At least they'll keep us busy, and I need to learn to shoot again. Guess I'll be starting from scratch...”

“That's the spirit,” Fletcher growls.

-

The main elevator grinds slowly down towards your destination, while Fletcher paces restlessly around the car. Glancing briefly at Monroe, who shows no sign of moving, you get out of the car and hurry over to Fletcher. “Hey!” you call out, causing him to look around, “Hey, don't give me that look. Don't act so...” You pause. So what?

“You were meeting up with Leighton and his friend, weren't you?” you continue, “Up to your usual Secret Squirrel bullshit again. Will you tell me what they said, at least?”

“I was meeting with them, yes,” Fletcher confirms, his eyes flicking across to the car, “We talked about a lot of things. Very little were of any consequence. Before you ask, they don't know where Doctor Bergmann is either.”

“Maybe THEY took her,” you point out, “I mean, she'd be a pretty useful piece in their little game. She might even cooperate with them, if it means spitting in Matheson's eye. The way I see it, they've got a pretty good motive. Did you ever think of that?”

Fletcher gives you a tiny gesture, perhaps meant to placate you. “I asked them, of course. They were as surprised as any of us to learn about what happened. For what it's worth, I believed them. As for Matheson...” he shakes his head, “She's currently MIA. Last known sighting, she was requisitioning a helicopter to visit Temple. She never arrived.”

She never...

[1/?]

>>3938118
And a successor for fletcher. Vic maybe?

>>3938123
So either it's Kinsley or some new player in the UN?

>>3938140
Or Matheson is about to reveal she’s using ADM biomass to use her own unit....

If we can get a list of possible locations for Matheson we could go bodiless and check them out overnight.


>>3938140
NHIL managed to impersonate UN soldiers during Belial's decent, so i don't think that we can rule Matheson out either.

Other locations that we should include in any sweep we do are wherever Coraline was operating out of while training, and the Garden since it's meant to be decommissioned right now, it had the facilities and Infrastructure to support R&D in relevant fields, and is relatively close to Avalon and a supply of political prisoners.

>>3938149
NIHIL being reorganized enough without Konstatin and I assume Coraline to impersonate UN members and be there the moment Bergmann got medivac'd would be terrifying and would throw a wrench into a lot of people's plans.

>>3938175
NHIL's security and manpower was outsourced to Merc's, my point was more that any outfit with; insider knowledge, manpower, money, timing and a little luck would be able to accomplish the same level of success that NHIL has had.

Considering that Matheson has all of them at her disposal and something better direct access to the genuine article, it wouldn't be too hard to have had Adrian use his connections to "borrow" a UN team to do the ground work then hand them off to Matheson's people and proceed to deal with them or alter their memories.

>>3938123

“So... so where the fuck IS she?” you hiss, almost screaming the words at Fletcher, “Where COULD she be?” Pausing, taking a breath, calming yourself, you continue. “Okay, okay, look. Does she have any other hiding places?” you press, “I was thinking, earlier. Maybe she has some secret facility. That's how she made her Johanna clone without anyone knowing, see? Because Bergmann has people in Temple, and they would have told her if-”

“Nobody in Temple knows who Doctor Bergmann really is, or that she had a child,” Fletcher interrupts, “Matheson didn't need to sneak around, or use some secret facility. Maybe if Bergmann hadn't been so fucking secretive about things, but...”

“But she thought she was protecting them,” you finish weakly, “Jeez... at least tell me you have some news about Huang.”

Fletcher's mouth twists slightly. “Not much, but it's better than nothing. I reached out to the head of her old prison, asked if he had received any new prisoners. He seemed surprised by the question. Apparently, the facility is no longer serving as a prison. Most of their specialist equipment has been dismantled and sent to Academy,” he explains, “Does that mean Huang is there? I can't confirm that. I can't even confirm that the equipment arrived at Academy. I've sent off a request for more information, but I haven't heard back from them yet.”

“Oh,” you pause for a long moment, “So what the hell do we do now?”

“With Matheson gone, Leighton is moving to take control of SEELE and, by default, the UN. Her absence changes everything, and my “friend” is concerned that Leighton will use this situation for ill ends,” Fletcher mutters, lowering his voice, “I don't think Leighton is stupid enough to start a fight with us, but I could be wrong. He might see this as his chance to eliminate the last opposition he has left.”

“Us,” you state, “Hence the security drills.”

“Hopefully, we won't need them,” the mercenary concludes, looking around as the elevator grinds to a halt, “Well. We're back. You'll excuse me if I cut this conversation short here – I need some sleep.”

“Wait!” you protest, lunging forwards and grabbing Fletcher's arm, “Wait, I need a list. Everywhere that Matheson COULD be. I don't care how impractical it might be, just every possible location. Could you get that for me?”

Fletcher starts to complain, pausing as he notices the look in your eye. “Let me think it over. I don't want to miss anything out,” he tells you with a sigh, “Whatever crazy stunt you're planning, it'll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Good enough. For now, though...

>Head back to the dorm, see who's around
>You've got something specific in mind... (Write in)
>Other

>>3938204
>You've got something specific in mind... (Write in)
Karina. We didn't see her during Amon's illusions but she was watching our back during the fight.

>>3938204
>>3938207
This also need to broach if the Dust in the air makes dissolving into lcl more likely.

>>3938204
>Head back to the dorm, see who's around.
Vic

We should be able to find out what condition the Garden was left in from Mac if it ever becomes relevant again. After all They are going to need to produce and test the S^2 organs somewhere that they could lose.

Also we want to have Coraline on speed dial, if Matheson is doing things we don't want her too we could drop in with Unit 02 and ruin her day once we find her.

>>3938204
>>You've got something specific in mind... (Write in)
Call up the Academy Doctor. I forget his last name. Inquire about Huang maybe being there and also BLUE EYE.

>>3938204
>You've got something specific in mind... (Write in)

backing >>3938219
Quentin Brahms was the name. Also have him take a look at the data Monroe has been gathering, he might be able to make sense of it.

“Hey, Fletch!” you call out, interrupting the mercenary before he can leave, “You got a way of getting in touch with Doc Brahms?”

Reaching into his pocket, Fletcher takes out a business card and passes it across to you. The doctor's name is printed in neat font, along with a contact number and... basically nothing else. He probably doesn't have the sort of job that needs to be advertised. “You can try calling him, but he doesn't always pick up. Or, you could wait and see him in person,” he tells you, “He's going to be moving here soon, due to the sudden... vacancy. I don't know the exact date – some time in the next few days.”

“Oh,” you reply, turning the business card over in your hands, “That's... okay. I guess.”

“Keep an eye on him,” Fletcher suggests, turning and walking away.

-

“Holly, wait,” Cam murmurs, holding up a hand to stop you before you can enter Karina's quarters, “Be gentle with her, okay? She's still recovering from...”

“From everything, I know,” you assure her, “I'll be careful with her. No wrestling, no extreme sports.”

“Glad to hear it,” the soldier remarks with a laugh, lowering her hand and letting you inside. Giving her a friendly nod, you enter Karina's quarters and approach the bed. Karina sits up as you approach, her silhouette shifting behind the gauzy curtain. Brushing the curtain aside, you sit down on the edge of her bed and study the sickly girl's pained expression. She looks beyond tired, worn thin by her thankless job. But... it seems like more than that.

Just waving a greeting seems enough to tire her out, and you have to hastily catch her before she falls back. Easing her down, you tentatively brush a few strands of hair away from her face. “Hey,” you murmur, “You look dreadful.”

“I, ah, I feel dreadful,” she admits with a tiny laugh, “Doctor Weick gave me some tests, just to make sure this isn't anything... different.” She pauses, her face screwing up before a muffled sneeze shakes her entire body. “Maybe I've got the flu!” she jokes, “Wouldn't that be funny? Imagine getting sick at a time like this, as if we don't have enough to worry about! Um, don't worry though, I'm not contagious. At least, ah, at least I don't think I am.”

Great. Wonderful.

“I'll be fine. I'm tough, it'll take more than a little bit of the flu to keep me down,” you assure her, “You know, I wanted to thank you for before. Amon really did a number on us, huh? Still, I knew that you had my back. Was it... I mean, did he... do anything to you?”

Karina shudders. Maybe it's her fever, or maybe it's the sound of that bastard's name. Either way, she shudders.

[1/?]

>>3938245
Crap. Here I was thinking Brahms might've been able to help against a BLUE EYE mobilization from the Academy side. Now we have to be cautious about him being a SEELE spy.

>>3938251
depending on his success with the projects he was working on, he may be able to provide different upgrades to the ones that Bergmann comes up with.

Of course that mean once we get Bergman back, however long that takes we either we mind wipe, or shoot him depending on if he tries to play both sides or not.

>>3938245

“It wasn't bad. I mean, ah, I heard about... everyone else. It could have been worse, I think. I don't think he wanted to hurt me, he just wanted to get me out of the way. He wanted to make sure that I couldn't help you sooner. It's like I was blind and deaf, sealed off from the world. No matter how much I called out, I couldn't make myself heard,” Karina whispers, “He let me see... things. The worst parts. The rest of the time, it was just blackness.”

This time, you're the one who shudders as you imagine it. Being locked away from the world, trapped in a helpless shell robbed of all senses... and she thinks that it could have been worse?

“Ah!” Karina yelps, as if noticing your unease, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to... frighten you!”

This startles a laugh out of you. “Huh? I should be the one apologising to you, making you think about that awful stuff!” you protest, “You don't need to... Jeez, just don't worry about it. You're not supposed to be getting worked up about this stuff, anyway.” Shaking your head, you reach over to a jug of cool water and pour two glasses. Karina drinks with immaculate care, clutching the glass like a precious relic and taking tiny sips. “I got a question for you. I'm saving it for the science nerds, but I'd like your input too,” you continue, “That dusty crap Belial's corpse is leaking out into the atmosphere. Do you think breathing that stuff in could be an Ego hazard?”

Karina doesn't answer this straight away, taking her time to consider the question. “I, ah, I can't really give you an educated answer,” she admits at last, offering you a tiny smile of apology, “But I feel... I feel like that might be the case. Well, ah, we would be talking about a large dose, a concentrated amount. As for what counts as “large”, I really couldn't say. Ultimately, it IS alien matter – I'd be more surprised if it DIDN'T have some kind of effect in large doses.”

After all, Coraline is... She's the way she is because of a Lilim contamination, from injecting that crap right into her veins. Why should breathing the dust in be any different? It must be a slow and insidious poison, though, for it to go unnoticed for so long. “So if the concentration needs to be large enough, and that crap is still leaking out...” you venture, “We're ALL on a ticking timer, aren't we?”

Silence, cold and painful.

“Well, ah, what I mean to say is, I might be wrong about that. About, ah, everything,” Karina concedes with a helpless little shrug, “I'm sorry...”

Before you can reply to this, Karina sneezes again. She starts to apologise for the interruption, only to sneeze for a third time.

That seems like your cue to leave.

[2/3]

>>3938281

You're painfully aware of your own breathing as you ride the elevator back up to the dorm. This far underground, the air must pass through all kinds of filters and processors and... who knows what else, but you still can't shake the feeling that you're breathing in bad air. “C'mon man, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, barging into the dorm, “What are you gonna do about it, light a fucking scented candle?”

“What's this about scented candles?” Vic asks, looking up from the dinner table, “I hope you're not planning on lighting one now. I can't stand the bloody things.” Sighing, shaking his head, he puts aside the magazine he was flicking through. “When Nate and I went shopping, the route would always take us past this candle store. The smell coming out of it – rather, all those different smells mixed together – never failed to make me sick,” he continues, his expression growing solemn at the mention of his sister, “So, uh... please don't.”

“Don't worry. No candles,” you promise, sitting down opposite him, “No, I was just thinking about... forget it, it's dumb anyway. Hey, you're always going to school and stuff. Have you noticed anyone missing lately?”

“That's a strange question,” Vic muses, “Truth be told, I don't really mix much with the other students. So, I wouldn't be a very good judge of that.”

“Oh,” you sigh. Then, slumping forwards, you sprawl out across the table and let out a long, wordless groan. Vic stares in amazement, in confusion, for a moment before awkwardly patting you on the shoulder. “Thank you,” you mumble, your voice muffled by your own arm.

“Any time,” he replies, sounding even more confused.

>Going to pause this here for today. I'll be continuing this tomorrow, though
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3938321
Thanks for the run.

>>3938321
Thanks for running.

I'm not a fan of waiting and being reactionary when everyone's making moves around us, but doesn't look like we have many options. We could bodiless scout the Academy and Leighton's office, but I'm not sure how much we'll get from it.

>>3938017
>“Ah, give me the keys, I'll drive us back,” you joke, giving the older woman an eager gesture, “How hard can it be?”
>With a deep frown, Monroe shakes her head.
Holly can drive a giant war machine, but not an econobox, har har. Once upon a time, three fighter pilots returned from war with 200+ combat sorties between them, but they got denied by the rental car clerk. They were all under the age of 25.

>>3938321
Thanks for running!

Does Belial really have enough corpse dust to infect all of humanity?

>>3938381
Considering the fact that Holly mind melded Fletcher's assailant in Berlin, she may have his muscle memory for any relevant activities.

>>3938383
As far as we know the amount is unlimited, Bergmann told us that it had already shed more mass that it could realistically have, this also leads to the problem of Humanities continued existence if it isn't dealt with soon.

>>3938396
Given that, Matheson's and Leighton's plans are kaput. Regular humans won't be able to survive, and there'll be billions lilimized before proper post-apoc dome cities can be built.

I'm pretty sure Matheson has started "Singing" all around the world, trying to turn into a balanced mix of Adam and Lilith. With all her efforts focused there, Leighton and Elrow working together are the only ones who can handle building the dome cities.

With Bergmann out of commission, the best plan along that route might just be copying what we did to Huang in large scale, triggering some sort of immune response to Lilim infection.

File: VictorC.png (309 KB, 900x700)

309 KB PNG

Maybe you're more tired than you thought, because you lie sprawled across the table for a long while. Vic doesn't ask any questions, instead reading aloud from the magazine he had been skimming through earlier. It's a literary magazine, not your kind of thing at all, but there's something strangely relaxing about listening to the young man read reviews of books you'd never even glance at.

“Through vivid metaphors and striking fragments of prose poetry, the author paints a stirring vision of youth and the loss of innocence,” he concludes, flipping the magazine closed, “I've read that one, actually. It's awful, but the author is very trendy at the moment.”

“Huh,” you murmur, “I thought you smart types would be above that kinda thing.”

“Oh good lord no,” Vic laughs, “No, that whole scene can be very... well, I don't like to dwell on it.” Setting the magazine aside, then wiping his hands as if he had been touching something dirty, he gives you a careful look. “I'd like to ask you something, and I'd like you to give me an honest answer. Don't just laugh it off, and don't make some smartass comment,” he announces, still giving you a very serious frown, “Are you okay?”

So it's one of those questions. “I don't know what to tell you, man,” you sigh, heaving yourself upright and meeting his gaze, “I'm confused. I don't know what we're getting ourselves into. I'm tired. I... I hate sitting around and waiting for life to kick me in the butt like this!” At this last point, you bring your palm down hard and slap the table. Vic flinches back, looking at you with newly cautious eyes. “Sorry, I'm just... yeah,” you mutter, feeling vaguely ashamed of yourself, “Monroe thinks we should be relaxing, taking it easy while we can, but how am I supposed to relax at a time like this?”

“I suppose she's right to be cautious,” Vic offers carefully, “If you push yourself too hard, you might get seriously hurt.”

“I don't CARE about getting hurt!” you cry, swiping a hand through the air as if brushing off the entire idea.

“Maybe you don't care,” the young man points out, a rare frustration giving a hard edge to his voice, “But she does. She doesn't want to see you get hurt, and neither do I.” Silence falls, and you find yourself staring at him. He stares back, but not for long. “People here care about you,” Vic continues, finally looking away, “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

You hesitate, fumbling for something to say and coming up empty handed. Eventually, you shake your head. “I'm done with this,” you mutter, “I'm going to bed. Need to get some sleep.”

So that's what you do.

Strange dreams, that night.

[1/3]

>>3941127

The air is hot and damp, somehow thick and stifling. It's the sort of air where you'd expect flies to swarm around you, but the air is perfectly still. It takes effort to open your eyes, to look up at the unfamiliar stars peeking through the strange canopy. Trees – the thought gradually drips down into the recesses of your brain, settling in and bringing slow realisation. With a weightless feeling, you rise. Brushing ferns and long grass aside, you creep through the hazy night until a flash of colour catches your eye.

Clusters of vivid, almost iridescent white flowers cling to a low bush. You've never seen flowers like them before. As you pluck a few of the tiny white flowers, you hear the groan of metal. Grass whispers around you as you hurry through the alien landscape, thrusting yourself through the curtain of dangling, clinging vines to see the looming form of an ADM Unit, half sunk into a lake of reddish LCL. There, with her back to you, you see Coraline sitting beneath her ADM as you yourself have done so many times before.

From your hiding place, you stare. Then she turns, your eyes meet, and-

Jolting up, you gasp in cool air and look around at your dorm. Everything is normal, everything is as it should be. As you start to get out of bed, though, you feel something slip to the floor – a tiny, white flower.

-

The clatter and rattle of breakfast dishes seems to come from very far away, excited conversation fading into a murmur. There's talk, among the other pilots, of going to the cinema to see the latest war flick. Dakota's idea – she might be the only one tone deaf enough to suggest a war movie at a time like this. Kaori's already made her excuses to stay away, opting to remain on active duty while the others are out having fun.

Questions of taste and decency aside, it would probably be a fun day out – but it's a distraction, an escape from the realities of your situation. A luxury you can scarce afford.

The conversation falters, and you look up to see why – Fletcher stands in the doorway, gesturing over to you once you meet his eyes. “Has Commander Monroe been by?” he asks, discretely leading you outside, “No? Then I'll pass the message along – she's going to be out of the office today, attending to a small matter with the central police. I don't know much more than that, but she said you'd understand.” He pauses, a humourless smile prickling his face. “I think she's keeping secrets from me,” he admits, “Not that I can really blame her...”

“Uh, right,” you reply vaguely, “I'm staying neutral here. If you guys want to fight, leave me out of it.”

“We're not fighting,” Fletcher stresses, “We're just... well, never mind that. I've got something for you.” From his pocket, he produces a neatly folded sheet of paper – the list of Matheson's possible hiding places. You'd like to say that you have enough dignity not to snatch it from his hands...

But that would be a lie.

[2/3]

>>3941129

Most of the items are unsurprising – Academy and Temple are both listed, although a neat annotation from Fletcher points out that if Matheson was in either of those places, they likely would have found her already. Then there's the Garden, which has mostly been closed down. A skeleton crew remains, though, to serve as caretakers. A few of the other options, though, are less obvious. “Denver?” you ask, frowning at Fletcher, “You mean like, Colorado?”

“Matheson was careful to cover up a lot of her early life, but she might have lived there before Second Impact. I can't really be more specific than that, unfortunately,” he explains, “And it's not exactly next door.”

“Lindgren's manor. That's closer, though,” you muse, “Why would she be there?”

“Because, as you say, it's close by. Lindgren is a shit, but he's not going to refuse a direct request if Matheson demanded shelter,” the mercenary suggests, “Although I don't think the pieces fit. Last time we saw Matheson, she was heading north by helicopter. Look, the last item on the list.”

“Ground Zero,” you read aloud, squinting at the words. Not, you assume, the place in New York.

“The origin point for Second Impact. It's north from Temple, not all that far away. There was a NERV outpost there once, but it was closed up fairly quickly. It simply wasn't needed – there was nothing left there to study, and it was just too remote to be practical. I don't know what state it was left in, but Matheson could be there,” he pauses, grimacing, “God only knows why. There's nothing to do there, other than curl up and die alone.”

Second Impact... It all began there, when SEELE released Amon and set this monstrous machine in motion. As soon as Fletcher explains it, you know it's the right place. She's there – she HAS to be. Knowing is one thing, but doing something with that knowledge is a whole other matter. You couldn't name a more remote location. Could you really...

“There's your list, as requested,” Fletcher states, shrugging, “Now, I need to organise some security drills. Have fun.”

Have fun, he says.

>Maybe you should go to the movies with the others
>You need to join Monroe when she goes to the police
>Stay back at the base and keep Kaori company
>Remain here and see what you can do with Fletcher's list
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3941130
>Remain here and see what you can do with Fletcher's list.

If we can find her, or anyone else we are missing, we at very least solve someones problems.

>>3941130
>Remain here and see what you can do with Fletcher's list
Let's do some scouting. Shouldn't take too long considering how fast we can jump from place to place.

>>3941130
>Join Monroe

We gotta look out for the team mom

“I can do this,” you whisper to yourself, clasping the list to your chest, “I CAN do this.”

“Do what?” Fletcher asks, raising an eyebrow, “Have fun?”

“No. Not that,” you reply, shaking your head and retreating back into the dorm. The others are just starting to leave as you return, and you soon find yourself fending off their invitations. “I can't, I'm not feeling well today, I didn't sleep so well last night,” you repeat, over and over again. The more you say it, the more irritated you get. They mean well, of course, but... but can't they just get the message and leave you alone?

Slamming your bedroom door shut behind you, wincing at the ugly sound, you flop down onto the bed and take a slow breath. On the table beside you, the impossible flower taunts you with unspoken questions. Picking up the delicate little thing, you bring it to your nose and sample the scent. It smells... familiar. Nostalgic, almost. Dropping it back down on the table, you look again at the list. Ground Zero – the words leap off the page, and you hear yourself whispering them to yourself like a mantra.

There's something happening. You feel dizzy, disorientated, and-

-

“What men see as immutable laws of nature are simply restrictions placed upon the body, upon the physical form. True, the body may be bound by them but a suitably ascended soul cannot be shackled in such a way. If a being of such power wished it to be so, they could do anything. They could stride through the sky, pluck bullets out of the air, fold space and walk across continents as if stepping through a doorway. Yet, a creature capable of doing these things... could it really call itself a HUMAN soul?”

-

It's cold, and the wind howls like a beast. The sky above you is lurid, twisting bands of green and blue light writhing around themselves while their reflections dance across the water. Pebbles and chips of ice hang suspended in the air, stirring ever so lightly whenever the wind catches them. Everything about this place has an undeniable strangeness, a sense that something very wrong once happened here. Looking down where your body should be, you see only a shimmer in the air. A heat haze, and the faintest outline of light. Nothing else.

But still you feel the cold, on a level deeper than the physical. With feet that touch no ground, you roam forwards and glance around. A ribbon of smoke catches your eye, and with an offhand thought you appear at the source – a helicopter bearing UN insignia, the abused engine still leaking oily smoke into the air. It was pushed hard to reach this place, and it wouldn't survive a return trip. Did Matheson plan for a return trip?

A place to curl up and die alone. That's what Fletcher called this place.

He was right.

[1/?]

>>3941155

Leaving the corpse of the helicopter behind, you gaze around at the strange place you've found yourself in. A small island caught in the middle of churning waters, surrounded by the debris from some tremendous explosion. A lifeless place, used up and abandoned. The island is dominated by an angular spire of white rock, the material split open along one side. Gazing at the rock, you find yourself imagining the shell of some reptile egg, long after the young beast broke free and crawled away.

Blink. You stand at the split, the entrance, peering down into the gloom. It opens up inside, sloping downhill and widening out. Like an iceberg, the majority of this place lies beneath the surface of the water. Further down, in the cavern, you spot a flimsy looking shed – a building pieced together from templates and stencils, designed to provide the bare minimum required for survival. The door is ajar. Approaching it, you feel a voice.

“I've seen sickness, and I've seen suffering. I've seen it bring out the best in people, granting them the strength to face day after day of pain. But I've also seen what happens when that pain is taken away, when the sickness is cured. Without that fight for survival, life became... meaningless,” the voice, Matheson's voice, recites, “They came to love their pain, to cherish their weakness, to rely on their abuse. It gave their life purpose, even if that purpose was just to survive one more day. So long as men believe they are suffering to a reason, they can endure almost anything.”

A lash of your will, and the door flies open. The inside of the shed is no less sterile than the outside, with just a neatly made bunk, a glowing heater, and an opened case of food rations. No life, no trace of Matheson herself.

“You feel it too, don't you? Like a missing limb, like a lost tooth. Amon was an enemy you could hate, and that hate gave your life meaning. The Lilim, his kin, are just mindless beasts – you might as well hate a hurricane. But Amon was special. He wore a human face, spoke in human tongues, and he knew the ways of men,” Matheson's voice continues, “This place was his prison for so long. I came here to grieve for him – but why are YOU here?”

“Where are you?” you hiss, the words seeming to echo from some vast distance, “Show yourself, damn it!”

“You miss him too, don't you?” she asks simply. There's no mockery in her voice, no attempt at taunting or goading you. A simple, honest question. A question you can only answer with...

>With... (Write in)
>Other

>>3941184
>With... (Write in)
"Life is certainly going to be quieter with him gone. Less interesting I suppose. Still though, I don't regret a damn thing. In his own twisted way I don't think he'd want me to either."

>>3941184
>"I miss him like a toothache."

File: matheson_right_about_now.jpg (128 KB, 1200x630)

128 KB JPG

>>3941184
>With... (Write in)
"I miss my friend, who died because of him. I think I have enough pain in my neck for now. Like you, for instance."

>Other
Attempt to take one ration with you. Just to practice taking stuff remotely that's not bolted down. Ask politely, if called upon.

>>3941184
>With... (Write in)
"Lol no. What a stupid assumption."

>>3941191
Oh yeah, and don't forget to ask her if she's going to live here for a while or is she just visiting. Kind of seemed obvious, but someone's here and if it's not her, then who?

>>3941184
>With... (Write in)
If I was to believe him, death is only a temporary setback for him and his siblings, unless we manage to finish the job.

>>3941191
Unless Matheson can fly a helicopter, i think this might be a recording, since i doubt that she could normally convince a pilot to go on a one way trip like this, without using her powers, it may be worth it to investigate the
crashed helicopter, for bodies, supplies and
any other signs of life.

“I miss him like I miss a toothache. Maybe life was more interesting when he was around, but I wouldn't want him back for a heartbeat. Do you know who I really miss? I miss the friend he TOOK from me. I miss the good times we had together, not this... this wound he left me with,” you hiss, looking around for the source of Matheson's voice, “I'm glad he's gone, do you hear me? I'm GLAD that I crushed the life out of him! I'm glad that I smashed him to pieces and... and... and STOP HIDING FROM ME!”

Dust and loose rocks fall from the ceiling as you scream these last words, the whole island seeming to shake in sympathy with your anger... but Matheson remains unseen. Back inside the shed, you look around at the sparse furnishings. There isn't even anything of hers that you could destroy, nothing you could do to punish her. Reaching for the ration packs, seeking nothing more than to tear them open and scatter their contents, you see the shimmering haze of your hand pass through them without pause. Here, you're nothing more than a phantom.

“I don't hate you for what you did to him. We're all children of Adam, after all, and he was a child of Lilith. It's been a very long time since I believed that the lamb could lie down with the wolf,” Matheson sighs, her voice dripping with a saintly patience, “Harmony, unity... these things can only be pushed so far. In the end, the only thing we can do with our enemies is destroy them.”

Laughter bubbles out of you, the ice on the walls cracking and grinding together as you fly down the narrowing cavern. “Oh, please. Go ahead and TRY,” you snarl, “Death? Destruction? For a thing like him, those are nothing more than setbacks. But you and me? We're going to settle this, once and for all.”

“Yes. Yes we are,” she breathes, her voice ghosting up from the lower depths. Plunging after her, you spot the woman standing at the deepest level of the pit. She looks pale and gaunt, her pockmarked scalp bare to the frigid air, but that doesn't stop you. Falling upon her with your hands outstretched, you find yourself clutching at empty air. As before, your hands pass through her without ever making contact. Her eyes widen, her shoulders tensing up, but she doesn't seem to notice your attack. “Are you here?” she whispers, her eyes flicking back and forth, “I wouldn't fight you, phantom, even if I could. Not here. Not in this place.”

Forcing yourself to calm, you pull back and look around. The cave feels like a shrine, a mausoleum, while Matheson herself seems frail – as if she her body had already died, and her spirit was just waiting to catch up. A sudden shame washes over you, and your fury dies out. Blindly obeying some nameless instinct, you turn and flee from the aged woman.

[1/?]

>>3941272

A place to curl up and die alone. That's what Fletcher called this place, and it's never felt more appropriate. This whole island, such as it is, reeks of it. Matheson has made her decision – this is the place she'll die. Nameless, formless thoughts squirm through your head as you drift through the island. Returning to the helicopter, you stare at it for a long time. No sign of any other pilot or stockpiled supplies. She came here alone, and she wasn't expecting to stay very long.

“Because you couldn't live without your sickness,” you whisper, “Amon was feeding you poison for so long, you started to savour it. Now he's gone, and you're...”

Slowly, you turn back to where Matheson waits far beneath you. Before, when she came face to face with Bergmann, she was so confident. So sure of herself. You couldn't even touch her, couldn't even dent her Ego. Now, though? When her heart has been broken, how much resistance could she really offer?

She still has secrets. Where Bergmann is being kept, whether Huang is with her. You could make those secrets your own, ripping them from her mind if need be, and it does her harm... then you'll just be hastening the inevitable, won't you?

You stare down into Amon's grave for a long time. You think.

>Rip the secrets from Matheson's mind. You need to know what she knows
>Leave Matheson be. Let her wither away and die alone, if that's what she wishes
>Other

>>3941294
>Other
Just ask her. In return we will leave her in peace to live out her last few days.

>>3941294
>Rip out those secrets

We can be the new Amon, with 100% less child killing.

>>3941294
>Rip the secrets from Matheson's mind. You need to know what she knows.


She didn't give anyone the choice to avoid this outcome, so she doen't get a choice in this, though this is may a trap option, but figuring out what happened with certainty is probably going to save more lives in the long run, and if it hurts either of us, we both us deserve it.

And if we happen to learn anything else that becomes important later on, we saved ourselves some trouble.

>>3941297
>>3941294
Agreed. She doesn't seem like she gives a shit anymore and would rather be left alone. Going Amon on people shouldn't be our first option, but more of a last resort.

>>3941302
>We can be the new Amon
Pretty sure that's not a good thing. Specially considering how sensitive Holly is to guilting herself and being a 'monster'.

>>3941294
>>3941297
Supporting non-lethal asking. I'm still wondering whether Holly can transport items, but this time to Matheson. Maybe she can't do that on her own and decide she doesn't want to run out of fuel just yet.

Slowly, you make up your mind. The secrets that Matheson hold within her head are too precious for her to take them to the grave. If she knows something that could prevent some future disaster, well, don't you have a duty to take that knowledge for yourself? That, at least, is how you justify it to yourself. Steadying your resolve, you drift down to the mausoleum and find Matheson waiting, barely moved an inch from where she first stood. Wrapped in a pale grey coat, the fur trim matted with dampness and age, she seems like a sad and tattered figure.

“I wish you could see me,” you begin, your words stabbing into her mind, “I wish I could look you in the eye.”

“Why?” Matheson asks, “Would that make you feel better? I know what you're here to do. It's not hard to guess. I'm sorry. It can't be nice, being told that you're so predictable, but-”

“Shut up! Just... just shut up!” you hiss, “Where did you take them? Bergmann, Huang, Johanna... what did you do with them?” Matheson turns slowly, ponderously, and smiles faintly. She isn't quite facing you, her tiny smirk directed at the air just past your shoulder. “Tell me what I want... what I NEED to know, and I'll leave you alone,” you insist, hating the pleading note that steals its way into your voice, “That's what you want, isn't it?”

Matheson's smile widens slightly. “What I want? When did you ever care about that?” she asks politely, “No. I have no intention of telling you. Doctor Bergmann is safely hidden away, somewhere where she can do no harm. The world has suffered enough because of her. Have you actually thought about the world she would create? A world where the strong devour the weak, and men are dragged down to live like beasts. I'm protecting us all from...”

You don't allow her to finish that thought. Slamming into her, your thoughts closing on hers like hands clenching around a throat, you reach for the answers you sought. Images and words flash through your mind as you rip through the last shreds of her Ego barrier. You see Bergmann and the others, sealed away within the containment plugs from Huang's old prison and shipped to Academy – locked away, as she said, where they can do no harm. Locked away where nobody could ever find them, in the remains of the old Berlin installation. Their prison doesn't appear on any map, any schematic of the facility, but you see the route now. As if you've walked the corridors a thousand times, the path to their prison is burned into your mind.

Pale blood streams from Matheson's eyes, her nose, but somehow she still smiles. “There will be others like me,” she whispers, “Men will always cry out for guidance, for a leader to follow. History will look fondly upon me, but you will be remembered as-”

She bursts apart, LCL spraying across Amon's grave, and the cavern falls silent.

[1/?]

>>3941338
We do have some kind of manipulation since we were able to slam a door open with our will and make the area around us shake when we are emotional, but I don't think we have fine tuned control to carry something with us.

>>3941341
Damn we're way worse at this than Amon. Maybe more practice is needed?

>>3941365
...only if we get a cool psionic, I mean, AT-field blade. What's the point of becoming an avenging murderer who will not be stopped if you can't look cool while doing it?

>>3941369
Not sure how slicing people into LCL will work but I'm willing to experiment.

>>3941370
If we are looking for a human scale weapon, we could see if we can manage to convince Coraline or the Council members to shave off a shard off the remains of Excalibur then forge a handle for it.

Should we tell Fletcher (Or Vic) about our actions. or just say that we figured out a likely location for the missing doctor.

>>3941373
I don't want to tell them anything yet. Bergmann is next. She's the last one closely involved with the circle eleven affair. Goo her real quick and we can then rescue Huang.

>>3941373
Fletcher and Monroe are the only ones that can stage a rescue mission if it comes to that, but I feel that we should keep this from Leighton and Elrow. They don't know where Bergmann is either and think Matheson is still out there. If they know that Matheson is dead they might make their plays sooner, but it might be best to make them think she is still alive to keep them in check.

So what I'm saying is we are going to need to sit Fletcher down and have him make his choice, Avalon or SEELE, because we don't want him reporting to Leighton if we do tell him.

>>3941341

“Holly! Holly, wake up!” Kaori cries, shaking you by the shoulders, “What's wrong? Holly!”

“I didn't want to do it! I tried to get her to... I tried so hard, I asked her again and again, but she... she wouldn't...” you stammer, clawing blindly at her, “She made me... made me...” Trailing off, you hug yourself – savouring the feeling of a physical body – and look around. You must have been crying out, loud enough to raise the alarm, but now you're not sure what to say. “I think I had a bad dream,” you state numbly, “A really... really bad dream.”

Kaori studies you for a long moment, then reaches some conclusion. Nodding simply, she steps back from you. “I'll be right outside if you want to talk,” she tells you, “But maybe you should get some rest first. You look pretty tired. Bad dreams can be like that. You don't need to sleep, just take some time to clear your head.”

You nod slowly, and Kaori slips out without a word.

-

“Did I do the right thing?” you ask softly.

“Sure. I mean, I think so,” Claire answers, glancing up from her phone, “I'm going to sound like a real asshole for saying this, but this just puts an end to things. A real, one hundred percent end. That's one old crone who ain't gonna cause us any more trouble.” She shrugs, leaning forwards and poking you on the forehead. “And sure, maybe she wouldn't cause much trouble up on... fucking Treasure Island or whatever, but we don't know that,” she continues, “Maybe her boyfriend left something buried there, and she was just trying to get us to leave her alone. We just don't know.”.

You consider this for a moment. “You're just trying to make me feel better,” you point out eventually, “I mean, I'M trying to make myself feel better.”

“Sure. If that's how you want to look at it,” she shrugs again, “Call it a coping strategy if you want, but at least you ARE coping. Now, are you gonna tell Fletcher about this or what? We know where Doctor Frankenstein is being kept now, I bet he'll be real happy for an excuse to kick in some doors and do that whole macho soldier act again.”

“Oh that's real great,” you murmur, glancing across at your sealed door, “I guess I should tell him, but-”

You glance back, but there's no-one there. Just for a moment, it's like she was still...

“...This sucks,” you whisper, speaking to nobody at all.

>You're right, you need to bring this to Fletcher ASAP
>Fletcher can't know about this. Nobody can know about this
>Maybe you should take up Kaori's offer to talk. Get your story straight
>Maybe... (Write in)
>Other

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>>3941376
I'm not voting to goo her when we see her. Your revenge boner is incredibly short sighted when she can potentially help us kill Lilith, work on shielding humanity from whatever Belial flakes are doing to us, and help out with Nate's emergence.

But I've already told you this multiple times though and you don't care so I just hope other people here will listen.

>>3941384
>Maybe you should take up Kaori's offer to talk. Get your story straight

Then
>Other
Attempt to talk to Fletcher, but on the condition that he does not report it to SEELE. If he can't do that then don't tell him.

>>3941384
>Nobody can know about this

>>3941385
Everything you just said was true for Matheson as well. We even went out of our way to find a replacement for Bergmann to pick up where she left off. Not sure why you're such a big fan of her when we just killed Matheson for less.

>>3941384
>Maybe you should take up Kaori's offer to talk. Get your story straight
Grab her and see if we can get Vic's input on this, since at least in part he has good reason for wanting to keep Bergmann alive.


>>3941385
At this point I would have to agree with you though I do think that we should tell her to stop working on her plans for changing Humanity

It would be a good idea to have it in place as a last resort if we can't fix things.

>>3941376
I'm against killing Bergmann on sheer principle. Matheson was sort of justified (or rather, that's me rationalizing) by the information extraction method, but what do you want to get from killing her? Doing it just out of spite does us no favors until the Lilim threat is removed or at least postponed.

>Maybe... (Write in)
Tell either Kaori or Monroe (if she can be reached). I don't believe they will leak information, Monroe can provide the rough outline of the rescue plan if pressed, but without alerting any of the SEELE. I think this is the time she needs to trust us (and maybe she would like to see Bergmann again). After that, probably tell Fletcher the facts.

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>>3941389
>Everything you just said was true for Matheson as well

Are you stupid? Matheson wanted to take Lilith's power. Bergmann wants to destroy Lilith permanently which means she might have research that helps that direction lines up with our goals. Bergmann also has research in strengthening human's AT fields which might be able to resist Belial debris. And finally Bergmann was directly involved in Nate's communion with Adam, not Matheson. Literally 0% of what I said is true for Matheson. You also need to factor in that Matheson would never work with us like was just shown in the last update. Bergmann HAS and might do it more if we rescue her and Johanna.

>We even went out of our way to find a replacement for Bergmann to pick up where she left off.
I'm not betting the fate of the world on the 'Maybe' chance that Quinten can replicate everything Bergmann has done and neither should you.

>Not sure why you're such a big fan of her when we just killed Matheson for less.
I didn't vote to kill her for one and two, once again, Matheson was actively hostile even to the end. Unless you're talking about Circle Eleven blame which you fixate on in which case all of SEELE is as responsible as Bergmann and Amon.

As a side note I want to point out that while being super vindictive justice guy you also want to be someone that wants to practice ripping into people's minds. Ironic

>>3941384
>>Maybe you should take up Kaori's offer to talk. Get your story straight

>>3941406
Matheson wasn't hostile, she went there and was waiting to die. I bet she also knew more about Lilim and Lillith due to Amon.

The mind ripping was only for those who deserve it. Like Bergmann. If what she knows is such a big concern for you we'll just take it. How else are we going to save Nate? Or does Nate not matter anymore to you?

>>3941398
I'm pretty sure Monroe is currently visiting the prison or, looking for clues to Bergmann's location, maybe we should drop to check on her, make sure that she is ok, since Matheson may have provided them with further orders.

Also depending how quickly we move and they are being moved to Berlin they may still be in transit, so providing us with a larger window of opportunity to get them before they reach their destination.

>>3941413
>I bet she also knew more about Lilim and Lillith due to Amon.

If she did we'd know it right now wouldn't we?

>The mind ripping was only for those who deserve it.
Man I'd love to see you go down that slippery slope until you become someone you would hate just like Bergmann.

>Or does Nate not matter anymore to you?
I like how you're choosing to ignore that I've mentioned her twice already in my reasonings. Selective reading at it's finest.

You do you anon, but I'm going to focus on winning this war so we can hopefully have a decent ending for ourselves.

>>3941413
I'm pretty sure that Bergmann could be convinced to stop progressing her plan via the successful recovery of Johanna Assuming the clone has most of her memories it should be able to serve as an acceptable replacement if the original can't be found or is dead. , and promising to let them live out the rest of their lives in peace. another benefit not immediately killing her is having someone else that knows what they are doing means that we free up time because we don't need to micromanage their time like we would with Dr. Brahms.

>>3941423
>Man I'd love to see you go down that slippery slope
But we are on that path already, if you look at it from the other perspective.
A shootout was initiated by a crazed merc leader, so Holly can save Cam (but we can let it slide, because it was also self-defense).
'Frog' (another poor mook) was melted because Holly needed to save Fletcher.
Now we killed Matheson so we could save Bergmann and Huang.
I won't count Amon, he probably enjoyed the whole thing through and through, the pervert.

Killing Bergmann to save Nate fits in the progression. It is a reliable way to make Holly kill basically anyone, as long as they threaten 'the support cast'.

There's no point in rushing off to tell Fletcher, you realise, not without taking the time to steady your nerves and get your story straight. If you barge into his office, ranting and raving, he's not going to take you seriously. You'll talk things over with Kaori, work up a plan of attack together, and then you'll tell him. Maybe. Or maybe you'll find some other way to procrastinate. Taking a moment to splash some cold water on your face and brush your hair, you emerge from your room.

Kaori puts on a good act, pretending that she hasn't been fretting, but you can see through her. “I heard... talking,” she ventures, choosing her words carefully, “Were you on the phone?”

“Er, no,” you admit, “I was talking to, um, Claire.”

“Claire?” Kaori repeats, “Isn't that a-”

“A bad sign?” you finish for her, “Well, it's pretty not good. I dunno. Sometimes I just gotta think aloud, and it kinda... it kinda helps. Like sure, it's probably not healthy but none of this stuff is healthy.” Shaking your head, shrugging, running through the whole gamut of gestures, you finally calm yourself enough to speak. “It wasn't a dream, that thing I was having. I mean, I don't think it was,” you begin, “I found Matheson. She was way far from here, but I found her. I, um... I think I destroyed her.”

Blinking with slow amazement, Kaori stares at you. “You... destroyed her,” she repeats, “You mean, you killed her?”

“I mean, I put her through a fucking juicer,” you reply, letting out a brittle little laugh, “I used my mind, and I just blew her to bits. Turned her into LCL like I was a Lilim. God, and it's not even the first time I've done it but this time was... Oh man, it was worse this time. The first time was like, heat of the moment do or die stuff, but this was-” You force yourself to stop, hearing the hysteria rise in your voice. “This was deliberate. I tried to be reasonable, but she wouldn't back down so I... I did it,” you finish weakly, “I needed to know what she knew. She was keeping Bergmann at Academy, with Huang and Johanna and...”

“You know where she is? Then, Fletcher needs to know about this!” Kaori insists, “Maybe he can rescue her and... and you're not sure how to tell him, are you?”

You hesitate for a long moment. “I feel like I'm supposed to be this big hero,” you murmur, “But really, I'm just lashing out at anyone who gets in my way. This time, it was Matheson. Who's it going to be next time? What if I lose my temper with Claudia or... or anyone else here and I do... that?”

“Hey, that's not going to happen. Listen to me, okay?” Kaori reaches over, puts her hand on yours, “That's not going to happen. You're not that kind of girl.”

But you're not so sure about that.

[1/?]

>>3941440

You talk things over with Kaori, repeating your story until it feels like something that happened to someone else, a very long time ago. When you can recite it without feeling like you're going to lose your mind, Kaori decides that you're ready for the real thing. She waits outside his office while you speak, covering the facts in a clipped – almost brutal – fashion. Fletcher listens with a fixed expression, occasionally scratching down a note.

“I see,” he concludes, “Did you learn anything else?”

“I don't exactly know,” you admit, rubbing your temple, “My head still feels kinda messed up. I think it's going to be a while before I can really think straight. But Bergmann IS in Academy. I know that for sure. I could even lead you there, if you get me inside that fucking fortress.”

“Which could be a problem,” Fletcher states, “The other installations don't seem to be willing to talk to us. They're not answering any of my messages, and I can't reach anyone on the phone. Either they're completely cut off, or we are.” Pausing here, he pinches the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a migraine. “I'm going to see if... if “Marquis” can get some answers from Leighton. If he can't, there's one last thing to check. We're due a shipment of ADM Biomass next week. Just a routine delivery, our regular supplies. If that doesn't arrive, we can be sure that something has gone wrong,” he grimaces, “Cutting off supply lines often precede a declaration of war.”

“Oh,” you pause, “Oh fuck.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “If we're cut off, we'll have no choice but to seize Temple by force. Our fight against the Lilim relies on the resources gathered there. But it may not come to that – there may still be some rational explanation for this.”

He doesn't believe that. You can see it in his eyes. “We need to tell Commander Monroe about this,” you murmur, “Is she...”

“She's on her way back. I got her call a short time ago. She did mention something about doing a little shopping on the way home, though, so...” Fletcher shrugs, the gesture saying more than any words ever could.

-

Maybe there wasn't anything good in the shops, because Monroe arrives shortly after you're finished with Fletcher. She meets your eye as you're leaving his office, and her smile isn't quite quick enough to cover up the unease she feels. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you follow her next door and sit down. Placing a slim file on the desk, Monroe starts taking out grainy photographs of gloomy city streets.

“Facial recognition picked up a few good shots of your boy,” she begins, tapping one of the pictures. It shows Clay, his expression dull and his head facing straight ahead. Studying the picture, you search for any clues. His clothes look scruffy, but not excessively so, and he doesn't look hurt. Just... tired.

[2/3]

>>3941463

“I got a general idea of his movements that night. He leaves home, then wanders the streets for a while. Never causes any trouble, never stops in any shops, he just wanders about. After a while he starts to go down alleyways instead of the mains streets, so it gets harder to follow him,” Monroe explains, pointing to one photograph, “Then he pulls his hood up, and it gets a lot harder to get a good shot of his face. Eventually, he goes into an alleyway and vanishes off camera. We don't pick him up after that. I mean, at all.”

“He just vanishes,” you mutter, “Do you know where?”

“Sure. We even went to take a look around,” she answers, taking out a few different photographs. These were taken from ground level, from a proper camera instead of a grainy surveillance system. There isn't really much to see in the alleyway. Just a single door, locked with a stout chain and padlock, a mesh fence topped with sharp wire, a manhole cover set deep into the concrete, and a number of heavy dumpsters.

Not good.

“Current theory is, he either doubled back and took another alleyway, somehow avoiding the cameras on his way out, or he hopped the fence,” Monroe continues, “Past that fence, there's a whole mess of backstreets. Without getting uniforms out there to search on foot, we're not going to have an easy time of it. The police know that we're dealing with an abused kid, so they're ready to put in as much effort as it takes, but... these things take time.”

You stare back down at the photograph. The alleyway looks so... miserable. You can practically imagine the smell of trash and squalor just by looking at the pictures, and it must be so much worse in person. Why would anyone come to a place like that by choice?

“I don't know. I guess we'll know more tomorrow,” Monroe sighs, “We're best off just letting the professionals do their work. It sucks, I know, but that's all we can do. Do you have any ideas?”

>I don't know. You're right, we should let the police do their work
>I've got an idea... (Write in)
>Other

>>3941474
Ah fudge. I'm at work and can't scour past threads for Clay interaction. If a good write in pops up I'll back it instead, otherwise

>Leave it to the police

>>3941474
>I've got an idea... (Write in)
We can go bodiless and check that house with the padlock and then the sewers the manhole leads to. Jumping a barb wire fence without injury seems difficult and avoiding cameras all the way doubling back seems unlikely.

So yeah, the Padlock House and the Sewers.

>>3941474
>I've got an idea... (Write in)
At one point he mentioned that the members of the baseball club, they were going somewhere when they were skipping out on school, maybe they would have a better idea of where he might be heading.

I'm really drawing a blank on this one, even with the archive.

>>3941494
Yeah I can back this, seems like something we could do better than the police.

“What's that padlocked door?” you ask, pointing to the picture, “I mean, obviously it's a door. I mean like, where does it lead?”

“Storage area for a nightclub, apparently. Lots of crates of beer, bottles of spirits, all that stuff. I know what you're thinking - it sounds like a perfect target for a kid looking for a bit of, um, playful rebellion – but that chain is seriously tough. No sign of any tampering, but we never got a chance to check inside. No warrant,” Monroe answers briskly, “Now, I don't know this friend of yours. Do you think he'd be able to pick that lock?”

“I doubt it. I'm just checking everything I can. I want to...” you pause, “Could he have gone through that manhole?”

Monroe peers down at the photograph. “It was covered up when we arrived, but... I suppose it's possible to drag it shut again from below. Those things are pretty heavy, true, but I guess we shouldn't rule it out. The sewers, though?” she shudders, “I don't even want to imagine it. I can ask my friend to look into the possibility, but they're not going to like this. Searching the alleys is one thing, but going underground like that...”

“Fine,” you decide, leaping up from your seat, “I'll go and take a look for myself. Where is this alleyway?”

“Holly!” Monroe protests, half-reaching out to stop you.

-

Maybe it's a comfort thing, but you find it easier to go bodiless in the privacy of your own room. Less chance of performance anxiety that way, and it's nice to be in bed afterwards. It's pretty tiring work, casting your mind out of your body. Either way, you're soon racing out to the location Monroe gave you. The padlocked door offers no resistance, but no reward either. The tiny room is packed with cases and crates, so cluttered as to offer nowhere for even a child to hide. Retreating back to the manhole cover, you sink down into the sewer and look around for any trace of Clay.

There, you see it. Caught on the edge of the ladder, a rough edge of untamed metal, is a scrap of cloth. Grey cloth from a sleeve, a sleeve from the same hoody that Clay was wearing. That's too much to be a coincidence.

He's down there.

>Okay, so I think I'm going to pause this here. I'm going to try and continue this tomorrow, but if that's not possible I'll continue next Friday.
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3941504
Thanks for running!

>>3941504
Thanks for the run.

Did we find the location all of the people that are missing or just Bergmann.

>>3941504
Thanks for running.

>>3941509
Huang, Bergmann, and Johanna are all together iirc. Julia is still somewhere in the Academy.

>>3941509

>>3941341
Says Bergmann and the others, so I assume everyone.

>>3941509
The former. We got the locations for Huang, Johanna and Bergmann herself

Moloch. Your writing is awesome and you tell very compelling stories. I really got very upset as Dakota got fucked in the last thread. Thanks!

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“I'm going to ask the obvious question,” Claudia begins, peering down at the map with deliberate and studied disinterest, “Why would a good, wholesome, All-American baseball playing young man be frolicking around in the sewers? That seems like a rather awful way of spending your evening... especially considering all the rain we've been having lately. Anyway, aren't there alligators in the sewers here?”

“That's just an urban legend,” Monroe mutters, “Except in Florida. We don't talk about Florida.”

“There is something very strange going on here,” Yulia muses, “This is not normal, this is not... logical.”

No kidding. Before you can make a predictably smartass comment, Fletcher raps his knuckles against the dorm doorway and leans in. “I just got off the phone with Doctor Brahms,” he announces briskly, “His plane just landed. I've given him an outline of what we're looking at here, and he seemed to take an interest. Commander Monroe, he'd like to talk to you about your... project.”

“Oh. Oh god,” Monroe groans, “I never thought I'd have to explain it to a REAL scientist. I'm going to sound so foolish...” Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she squares her shoulders and marches out. Then, pausing in the doorway, she glances around. “Oh, right, Holly. I've got a quick update from my police sources. They got some old clothes from your friend's house, and they're planning to launch a search with dogs. Whether they'll actually be able to smell anything or not down in the sewer...” she shakes her head, “I don't know. It's better than nothing, whatever happens.”

Dakota perks up at the mention of the search, turning to you and grinning with excitement. “Dogs!” she whispers, “Oh man, I bet they're super cool. Like, super well trained and everything. Do police dogs have badges? That would be the BEST! Do you think they'll let us pet them?”

“I think they'll be a little too busy for that,” you reply tightly, only to wince at the crestfallen look on her face. “But,” you hastily add, “That just means we'll have to give them all belly rubs when their hard work pays off!”

“Yesssss!” the young girl hisses, triumphantly pumping her fist. As she sidles off to talk with the others, you meet Yulia's eyes and move over to her.

“This all feels... I don't know. All this effort for one guy?” you murmur to her, “I must sound so ungrateful. Hell, I feel like the world's biggest asshole to say it, but...” But you just shrug, unable to find the words. Yulia seems to understand, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

“If we cannot use all our effort to save one life, then what is the point?” Yulia counters, “What is the point of anything?”

She's right, of course. She often is.

[1/2]

>>3942146

Avalon City might be a new site, but it didn't come from nothing. Beneath the surface, the new sections of the sewers mingle with far older tunnels and cisterns. There's been a great deal of work put into the maps and charts you're working from, but there are still a few segments that are... unclear. If Clay has somehow wandered into these older tunnels, it might be near impossible to follow his trail. Add in the crumbling, aged architecture and the water levels swollen by recent rainfall...

It's not going to be much fun. Not much fun at all.

The door rattles as Monroe enters, a brittle edge to her stressed smile. “I explained the situation to, um, Doctor Brahms. As far as these disappearances are concerned, he seems to agree with me – he thinks there's something more going on here. He's stopping off at the central hospital to do some research. They have access to blood samples there and... well, it was all very complicated and scientific,” she explains quickly, “I need to go and see him in person, to share my notes. Yulia, would you like to come along? I know how you like your science stuff, and-”

“I think perhaps that would not be a good idea,” Yulia interrupts, her voice polite but firm, “I know little about this matter. I would just get in your way.”

“Oh,” Monroe pauses, “Oh, um, okay. If that's what you really want. Now, Holly-”

“Have you started searching the sewers yet?” you press, “We need to get down there and get to work!”

“They're going to be starting soon, yes, but I don't want you going along with them. Those sewers are no place for a novice. Leave searching them to the professionals. They'll keep us informed about any developments – anything at all. It's better for them if we step back and let them work,” Monroe insists, putting on her best attempt at a serious face, “Besides, wouldn't you rather stay here? I heard that, ah... I heard that Karina was feeling a little under the weather. Why don't you visit her, see if you can cheer her up a little?”

That's...

>That's bullshit. I'm going down and searching the sewers with everyone else!
>I guess you're right. I'll check up on Karina, make sure she's feeling okay
>Can I come and see Doctor Brahms with you? I'd like to hear what he has to say
>I want to... (Write in)
>Other

>>3942147
>>I guess you're right. I'll check up on Karina, make sure she's feeling okay
"When you're done with Quinten tell me what he tells you. I might be able piece something together. Maybe."

>>3942147
>I guess you're right. I'll check up on Karina, make sure she's feeling okay.

When we eventually meet Brahms we should ask about the following, if he solved the power problem he was working on, the general felling of the Academy staff, and maybe tell him that we know about what they did to Julia, and knows anything about where she is located.

>>3942147
> Can I come and see Doctor Brahms with you? I'd like to hear what he has to say.

Even if we find Clay there's nothing stopping him from getting hypno abducted again. We need to tackle this at the source to ensure his and everyone else's safety.

“I guess you're right. I'll go check up on Karina, make sure she's feeling okay,” you sigh, secretly – and guiltily – relieved that you won't have to go wading through dirty sewer water. Sometimes it's hard to accept that you can't do everything yourself, but this is one task you're more than happy to delegate. “Oh, but make sure to tell me what Brahms says,” you add quickly, “If we all pool our knowledge, we might be able to keep anything like this from happening again.”

“I'll call you from the hospital,” Monroe promises, “I mean, if they let me. Hospitals can be pretty sniffy about these things. Anyway, um, we'll see what happens. I'm not sure how long it could take – I always got the impression that science stuff could be a pretty slow process. You won't be bored waiting for me, will you? Um, Dakota! Make sure you keep Holly company!”

“While she's keeping Karina company, sure,” the young girl remarks, flashing the commander a cheeky grin, “But who's gonna keep ME company?”

Monroe's eyes widen with a sudden panic. “Oh, um, I never thought about that,” she yelps, “How about-”

“Chief,” you interrupt, “She's having you on.”

“Oh,” Monroe pauses, “Of course she is.”

-

All jokes aside, Karina really does look like she needs cheering up. Somehow worse than when you last saw her, she occasionally resorts to breathing from an oxygen mask. Doctor Weick lingers around the doorway, boring Cam to death with his collection of family photos, and you're not sure if his presence is a comfort or not. He'll be able to react quickly if there's an emergency, but... is he here because they're expecting an emergency?

“Hey, can you get high on that stuff?” Dakota blurts out, looking at the oxygen mask, “Let me take a huff, I wanna see if-”

“Ah, no huffing please!” Weick calls out, hastily moving over to wave Dakota away from the ailing girl, “We must be very careful about anything that could make her illness worse. That means no sharing, nothing that could cause cross-contamination. We must be CLEAN, yes?”

“Sorry, sorry, I understand,” Dakota apologises, giving the doctor a quick bow that makes Karina giggle into her mask. Mollified, Weick retreats back to his place at Cam's side and says something to her in a low voice. Once she's sure that he's not listening, Dakota leans over to you. “Hey, Holly,” she whispers, “Did he just say I was like, dirty?”

“I'm sure it was nothing like that,” you assure her, “Unrelated question, but when did you last take a shower?”

“Uh, I think it was last week, or maybe-” she pauses, realises what you're saying, pouts at you. Karina just giggles again, her laughter cut crudely off by a rattling burst of coughing. Sucking on the oxygen, she waves away your gesture of concern and sinks back into her bed.

[1/?]

>>3942163

It's strange, not having the TV on in the background. You suggested watching something, just to pass the time, but Karina shook her head. Headaches, she claimed, the bright lights and loud noises would only make them worse. This announcement caused Dakota to flee from the room as if in a panic, crying out something too rushed for any of you to understand. She returns a short while later, proudly carrying a folded chessboard. “Check this shit out!” she bellows, only to hesitate at Karina's gasp of pain, “Oh, sorry. Too loud?”

“Too loud,” Weick calls over, “I think your pretty Miss Monroe heard that.”

“She's not here today, she's over at the hospital and-” Dakota pauses, “Oh. That was the joke, wasn't it?” With a disgusted sigh, she unfolds the chessboard and empties the pieces all over Karina's bed. It's nothing fancy, the pieces moulded from cheap plastic, but it'll do the job. “We played chess a few times back home, but I was never all that good at it. Never had the patience for it, I guess,” the young girl mumbles, “But I saw this and I thought it was pretty neat. The pieces are like little animals, see?”

“Very cute,” Karina rasps, picking up one of the rabbit pawns, “But, ah, how do you know which piece is which? I suppose these ones must be the pawns, since there are so many of them, but as for the rest...”

“Oh. It came with a list, but I threw that away,” Dakota admits, “I figured we'd just bang them together and have fun that way. Did you know that if you hit these pieces together just right, you can launch them right across to the other side of the room? Watch, I'll see if I can-” She draws back her hand to clack the two chess pieces together, but you hastily stop her before she can bounce it off the back of Weick's head. As amusing as that might be, but Weick is wearing rather a lot of hair gel today and you're worried that it might... stick.

You look back just in time to see the pawn slip through Karina's nerveless fingers. Her eyes roll back up in her head as she collapses back, her convulsions starting at the feet and soon surging up the full length of her body. “Weick!” you cry out, “Doctor!”

“I will get the syringe. Keep her from hurting herself!” Weick shouts back, leaping into motion with a haste that clashes with his large frame. As he searches for the medication, you grip Karina by the shoulders and fight against her struggles.

“It divides, and it grows, and it... it spreads. It's reaching out now, calling out now, and they're answering it!” the ailing girl stammers, the words not matching up with the movements of her lips, “Form demands substance, substance demands form, and it... it's still growing. I can't...”

Then Weick is pulling you aside, sinking the syringe into Karina's arm and watching, waiting for the seizure to subside. It takes longer than normal, her abused body seeming to resist the medication.

[2/3]

>>3942174

As Karina sleeps, Dakota listlessly pushes a few of her animal chess pieces around. “I saw a kid having a seizure once. You know, back home. I guess he got stung by something, or maybe he ate some bad shit he found in the woods. I dunno. He just went down like he was shot, started freaking out. The adults kinda dragged him away, told us to give him some space. Later, they said they took him to the city so he could see a proper doctor,” she pauses, “But I think he probably died. We never saw him again. They said he was staying away because it wasn't safe, but...”

“But you knew,” you finish for her, “You just knew.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess,” the young girl shakes her head, “It's like, I dunno. It was a decent place, most of the time. Sometimes I even miss it, even with all that... all that shit that happened. It was simple, living there. All this stuff we're involved in here, this UN stuff, that couldn't touch us there. The rest of the world just didn't matter to us. Getting our next meal, making sure the shelters weren't gonna fall down, that was the stuff we thought about.”

“Would you ever go back there?” you ask gently, wondering if this is the right question to ask. Wondering if there IS a right question to ask.

“I don't know,” she answers honestly, “I think... I think bad things happened there. Even so, I miss it sometimes. When all this is over, maybe I WILL go back there. Not to stay there, just to... just to see it again. One last time.”

They came to love their pain, to cherish their weakness, to rely on their abuse. It gave their life purpose, even if that purpose was just to survive one more day.

Matheson's words stab out at you from some unseen angle, causing you to flinch back from Dakota. She was saying something, but the words were lost. “I'm... Sorry, what was that?” you ask, “I didn't really...”

“Oh. Nothing really,” Dakota says, shaking her head, “I just asked what you thought. You know, about... stuff.”

>Maybe you should go back there. It'll be safer than staying here, at least
>You should cut that place off completely. Start fresh, without any baggage
>That place is always going to be a part of you. You can't change where you come from
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3942189
>That place is always going to be a part of you. You can't change where you come from
"Doesn't mean that the past has to keep hold of you either. You can choose what kind of life you want for yourself and no one can tell you otherwise."

>>3942189
>You should cut that place off completely.

It's a cult.

>>3942189
>That place is always going to be a part of you. You can't change where you come from.

Suggest that she if does decide to go back to visit or stay she should consider inviting Juliet, or anyone from the team to along with her.

After this is over some of the team members are going to find it hard to reintegrate into society, if we can help mitigate that by encouraging closer bonds within the team, though we should try and prevent any one member from becoming focused on just one person, otherwise we run the risk of having more Coraline's on our hands, if something ends badly.

Karina's proclamation makes me think that when we find Clay, something is going to go horribly wrong.

>>3942189
>That place is always going to be a part of you. You can't change where you come from
>I know Amon's illusion interrupted it, but did you find what you were looking for about the Dark Place in the portal?

“What do I think? I think... that place is always going to be a part of you,” you tell her quietly, picking up one of the chess pieces – a proud stag – and turning it over in your hands, “You can't change where you come from. I know THAT better than most people. But the past doesn't have to keep hold of you either. You can choose what kind of life you want to lead. You get to make that choice, nobody else.”

“Oh man,” Dakota groans, “That sounds hard.”

“It IS hard. Maybe you WILL have to go back home and see it for yourself. If you do, I don't think you should go alone. Take Juliet, take me, just take someone to make sure you're not alone,” you urge, “We're in this together, remember? You've got my back, and I've got yours.”

Laughing at this, Dakota leans down over Karina's sleeping form until their foreheads almost brush together. “I wonder where SHE came from,” she breathes, “I feel like... she can't go back there. Or if she did go back THERE, she couldn't come back HERE.” Straightening up again, Dakota tilts her head to the side. “Well if that's the case, I hope she stays here,” the young girl decides, “It wouldn't be the same here without them. I mean, we'd have less medical emergencies for one thing.”

“True,” you concede, a grudging laugh escaping from you. As you're laughing, Dakota lunges forwards and wraps her arms around your neck in a sudden embrace. Almost desperately, she clutches herself to you.

“Got your back,” she whispers, hissing the words in your ear.

“And I've got yours,” you promise.

>Ego increased by 5
>Current Ego: 54/70

-

Holding onto you for a few seconds more, Dakota suddenly pulls back as if embarrassed. “Um, yeah,” she mumbles, “You wanna knock some chess pieces together?”

“Maybe later,” you decide, “I want... I need to ask. Tell me to fuck off I'm being too nosy, but did you see anything? I mean, in Amon's illusion. Were you able to learn anything?”

Dakota's smile fades. “No,” she answers shortly, wrestling with her doubts before continuing, “He showed me things. Um... bad things. Then he said he'd tell me what was real and what wasn't. It would be his gift to me, he said.” Pulling her heavy coat tighter around herself, Dakota shivers. “So I told him to get stuffed. I didn't want to get nothing from him,” she concludes, “Chances are, whatever he told me would just make things worse. Even if he DID tell me the truth, I'd always doubt it. So like, nothing would have changed, huh?”

“Right,” you agree, nodding slowly, “I think you did the right thing.”

“Of COURSE I did the right thing!” Dakota cries, “I'm a genius! I'm-”

“A very loud genius,” Karina mumbles, stirring beneath her sheets.

[1/?]

>>3942224

As Doctor Weick goes about checking Karina's condition, you feel your phone buzz insistently. Retreating back into the kitchen, you take the call. Fletcher. “I wanted to update you on the search,” he begins, “The dogs seem to have a scent, they were following it at last contact. However, radio contact has been tenuous. We might not be able to pass along information immediately. That's all. How are things on your end?”

“Karina had another fit. I think there might be a Lilim attack soon,” you answer, “She said that something was growing, spreading, calling out. She said something was answering that call. I think... Fletcher?”

“I'm still here,” he answers, “I'm just thinking.”

“Well, doesn't that sound like what we're dealing with here?” you insist, “It's reaching out, and people like Clay are answering it. It FITS, doesn't it?”

“Keep an open mind,” the mercenary cautions, “If you've already decided, you're going to twist any evidence to fit with-”

“Fletcher!” you snap, your voice causing Dakota to glance over, “Fletcher, can you just LISTEN to me?”

Another long pause. “Yes, it does fit,” he admits eventually, “Some of the sewer workers have been noticed strange feelings down below. Nothing they can easily explain. A feeling of being unwelcome, almost. These are experienced men, and they've worked in these tunnels for a long time, but they were scared. Scared of what, though, they couldn't say.” He pauses, his sigh rumbling like static. “I need to ask some questions here, to see what else the men have noticed,” he concludes, “If there IS something down here other than your friend, we need to narrow down the search area. Excuse me.”

“Yeah, right, sure,” you mutter, giving the phone a disgusted look. After a moment, you tap in Monroe's number and listen as the phone rings and rings. “Hey chief. Just thought I'd check in,” you begin, “How are things going with Doc Brahms?”

“Oh, Quentin?” Monroe answers, lowering her voice, “He's very handsome, isn't he?”

“Uh...” you pause, “I guess?”

An awkward silence. “Well, um, anyway,” Monroe says eventually, “Doctor Brahms wanted to get some names of the missing people. The hospital has their blood samples, and he needed some time to study them. He compared them with some random samples and... um, hold on a moment.”

Another pause.

“Miss Reynolds,” Brahms announces, “As you know, all humans possess an indirect connection to Adam. The strength of this connection can be measured through genetic analysis. I compared blood samples from these missing people to a random selection of samples drawn from the wider population. The missing people all showed markedly lower Adamic material when compared with the general population. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“I think so,” you reply, “Go on, keep going.”

[2/3]

>>3942268
>The missing people all showed markedly lower Adamic material when compared with the general population

Which would stand to reason they have more of a Lilith percentage material than most that might make them susceptible to a Lilim 'call' potentially.

>>3942273
Looks like we need to do some more research, to see if anything can be done to boost the percentage passively.

If the test is successful we should see if we can get Monroe to convince the government to contaminate the water supply with refined biomass.

>>3942268

“Further research is required, of course, but I believe this Adamic deficit could leave these people more vulnerable to outside influence than most,” Brahms continues, “Under normal circumstances, I do not believe this would be significant enough to be noticeable. A Lilim's destructive AT Field would be equally potent regardless of who was affected, for example. However, when taken alongside the Lilim material currently being released into the atmosphere it may-”

“It's poisoning us. Them. Whatever,” you interrupt, “Is that what you're saying?”

“That would be oversimplifying the issue,” Brahms states, “It's difficult to explain properly. I still need to refine my theory. I... wait-”

The sounds of a muffled scuffle. “Holly. So we think that these missing people are being, um, controlled by a Lilim. Or at the very least, they're being influenced by a Lilim. If your friend is being drawn into its lair, that means it's hiding in the sewers. I don't know, maybe in some of the storm drains. Somewhere deep down,” Monroe pauses, “How the hell are we going to get an ADM down there? Honestly, these monsters make my job so difficult sometimes...”

“Yeah, you and me both,” you grunt, glancing back across at Karina, “Look, Karina had a fit and what she said really fits with what you're telling me. It's a Lilim, it HAS to be. Question is, what the hell do we do next?”

“Top priority goes to getting your friend to safety, of course. After that, I'm going to order that the sewers are sealed up as much as possible, stop anyone else from wandering down there. This thing might already be growing down there, but at least we can stop it getting any more...” Monroe hesitates again, clearing her throat, “Well, if we contain the situation then maybe we can buy some time to plan out our next operation. God, I hope so, but... well, I've got Doctor Brahms here if you need to ask him anything. Should I put him back on?”

>No, I'm done. We'd better get back to work
>Yeah, I need to talk to him... (Write in)
>Other

>>3942296
>>Yeah, I need to talk to him... (Write in)
The general status of Academy, BLUE EYE, and SEELE 01. Specially that last one if he knows cause Leighton has been acting shifty recently.

>>3942296
>Yeah, I need to talk to him... (Write in)
For now just ask him if he managed to make any progress on the power problem he was working on, and that we have more questions but they can come later, once things have settled down again.

>>3942296
Blue eye has smaller units right? Might be bad tactically but they could clear the sewers

>>3942296
>Other
"Weren't there other cities where disappearances were prominent? Or is it just the vicinity?"
I don't understand - do we have a little Lilim hatchery in every city or can we expect it to only be here? That's a question for Monroe, probably.

"Can you explain to me in simple terms how Lilim are affected by the sound? Can we just blast some noise in that closed space so that whoever's capable of hearing down there can feel it?"
For Brahms or nearest engineer who actually can answer that.

>>3942296
>Ask him how stupid it would be to flood the sewers with LCL to mess with this thing

>>3942296
>Other to Monroe
Do those sewers connect to Avalon's underground? If a Lilim wanted to make a tactical strike against us that's how I'd do it.

Should we evacuate the city? If a battle can erupt anywhere from under our feet there won't be enough time for people to make to shelters.

>>3942316
Not that i can see Monroe or Fletcher agreeing to waste the limited reserves of the only Material that we have on hand that can repair the Units, when we are about to get cut off from the only ethical source of replenishment, though we could lean on the US's large number of Death Row inmates if we absolutely needed to.

Not that I don't think it would work, it probably would, though it would leave us in a much worse position when Academy / the UN makes their move, if i absolutely had to pick a single unit to lose i would pick Unit 05.

>>3942326
I have my doubts you could flood sewers and storm drains even with water without a literal flood. Not even sure whether one could flood it with gas with a good enough concentration.

“Yeah, put him on. I need to talk to him,” you answer, glancing back across at Dakota and Karina. Dakota is trying, and failing, to juggle chess pieces while Karina watches in amazement. When Brahms gets on the line, you launch straight into it. “Doc. Hey. Been a long time, huh?” you begin, “How are things going in Academy? I kinda miss my friends in BLUE EYE. They're not talking about me behind my back, are they?”

“Slow down, slow down,” Brahms urges, “Unfortunately, working at Academy has become intolerable. I understand the need for security, of course, but the facility was starting to seem like a prison when I left. I saw more soldiers with every day, and our work was constantly being scrutinised. I don't know how my colleagues could work under those conditions.” He pauses here, letting out a hoarse sigh. “I did get a chance to say goodbye to the BLUE EYE team, though. I'm glad for that. They're doing well, but even they seemed to be feeling the pressure,” he continues, “They seemed... quiet.”

That doesn't sound good.

“What caused all this?” you ask, “Has your boss – Leighton, was it? - mentioned anything?”

“Not to me. I'm told that he met with some of his UN colleagues, although the meeting was highly confidential. They must have provided information on some threat, but I don't know the specifics,” Brahms answers, “I got the impression that asking too many questions might be a bad idea.”

Smart man. No wonder he's a scientist. “I guess we can finish this conversation later,” you tell him, “Hey, uh, you were working on a battery project before, right? What happened to that?”

“The project was shelved. My superiors weren't satisfied with the results when compared with the investment. They allocated the resources to a new theory – one of my more, ah, esoteric colleagues pitched an internal generator that used a tiny fragment of Lilim material to power an ADM Unit. I'm not clear on the... I hesitate to even call it “science”,” he explains, his tone growing harsh, “The Lilim material agitates the ADM, allowing a portion of the ADM's natural energy to be used. It's dangerous, unproven, and unnatural. I don't approve of the project.”

You get the feeling that Brahms isn't leaving Academy on good terms. He's been forced out, although they would never be so crude about it. You couldn't comment on the science, but your gut instinct is telling you that this internal generator is a bad idea.

“Excuse me,” Brahms says suddenly, “Your Commander is gesturing. Quite vigorously, in fact. I think she wants to talk to you.”

[1/?]

>>3942330
Now taking bets as too how soon The Garden is going to be wiped off the face of the Earth, and witch of the Members of Blue Eye it's going to take with it.
It's going to be Julia isn't it, looks like we're going to have to step up our plans to get her back.

And now all we are waiting for the Mass Production Series to be complete is for them to replicate Excalibur

>>3942333
This is not sounding too good. I imagine Leighton doesn't want Lilith to die so he and his UN buddies can have ADMs permanently.

>>3942333

“Holly. Hi,” Monroe begins, her voice low and furtive, “Did Quentin say anything about me?”

“He said you were gesturing. I think “vigorous” was how he described it,” you answer, rolling your eyes, “I assumed you needed to ask me something important. I was wrong, wasn't I?” Monroe doesn't answer this straight away, and you bite back a sigh. “Look, I wanted to ask you about your project. Did any other cities show the same rates of missing people?” you ask, “Does anyone else have a Lilim nest hidden away beneath them?”

“Oh,” pause, “Oh God. I didn't think about that. I only looked at the data from Avalon, it was the only information I had easy access to and I never thought... I never thought this would actually come to something!” Monroe groans, and you hear a muffled snap of conversation. “Quentin's calling up a few of his people now, to see if they can dig up some more data. If this phenomenon is widespread, this has gone from a big problem to a... a REALLY big problem,” she adds, muttering a few more words under her breath, “Okay Diane, stay calm. Don't embarrass yourself in front of your new friend...”

You're all going to die.

“Commander. Should we evacuate the city?” you ask, keeping your voice level, “If a battle erupts from underneath is, we won't have time to get people into the shelters. We could lose a lot of people if we're caught by surprise.”

“We need to consider it, yes. Though, I'm concerned that vulnerable people might get, um, lost during an evacuation. In all the chaos, they could easily be left behind. We'd need to be organised about it, maybe take it one district at a time...” she takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out, “I'm going to issue a warning to the civil authorities, tell them to get ready to move people out of the affected areas. That might end up being the whole damn city, unless we can narrow things down a little. If only we could buy some extra time...”

“Subsonics maybe?” you offer, “I don't know how they're supposed to work though. Could you explain it in like, simple words?”

Humming to herself as she thinks, Monroe finally gets back on the line. “Subsonics mainly stop people from concentrating properly. Abnormal abilities typically rely on concentration, you can't really use them if you're distracted. They mainly work on people like Huang, who aren't exactly used to using their powers. I think. Lilim themselves might not be affected,” she offers, “But if this Lilim isn't fully formed, we might be able to use them. Hang on, we're going to come back to base. We can finish this conversation then. And... Holly?”

“Yeah?” you reply cautiously.

“We'll get through this,” she urges, “Just like we always do.”

>It's a little early, but I need to pause this here. I'll be able to continue this next Friday, and I should be free all weekend
>Thank you for your patience today!

>>3942361
Thanks for the run.

Would Holly be able to go bodiless and find Elrow or any other council members in order to deliver a message, assuming that communications broke down?

>>3942361
Thanks for running!

Which would be more viable, covering the sewer system with subsonics equipment or dumping like a thousand gallons of LCL down there?

>>3942394
Not the latter, considering the UN may try to cut us off from important materials like LCL in the near future. We did give Bergmann the idea of a subsonic weapon to use on Coraline, but she's a bit tied up at the moment. Quinten might be able to continue the work.

>>3942402
Forgetting for the moment that we may be cut off. How much do we have on hand?

>>3942361
Why is Monroe so horny, Jesus Christ have some self control!

>>3943091
I kind of hope they hit it off. Monroe needs to get laid and I can think of worse pairings.

Better than Surfer96

So is this Caroline? She still has the excalibur fragment, so I'm guessing that the only one who's going to have enough firepower to not get burned by it will be.....Nate.

>>3943514
My guess is that it might be Belial again, it's flakes slowly making it's way down to the sewers via rain and reforming. That's why this is a worldwide phenomenon.

>so I'm guessing that the only one who's going to have enough firepower to not get burned by it will be.....Nate.

Probably, which is why I'm hoping a strategic subsonic weapon at the right time will disorient her so we can disarm her.

File: QuentinB.png (306 KB, 900x700)

306 KB PNG

As if he didn't have a care in the world, Brahms runs his fingers along Bergmann's desk. He inspects them as if expecting to see dust and grime clinging to them, lightly brushing them clean on a handkerchief. You watch him carefully, as Fletcher instructed, but you're not sure what you're supposed to be looking for. He sounded calm enough over the phone, but in person the doctor wears a dazed expression. Coming here, you suspect, had been a rather sudden decision. Probably not a decision he made for himself, either.

“It's a pretty good lab,” you announce, speaking up for the sake of breaking the silence, “Um, Bergmann never had any complaints. Not about the lab, at least.”

“It will be perfectly sufficient,” Brahms assured you, leaning down to take a closer look at one of the numerous computer monitors. “I have some information. Other cities across the globe are reporting similar results to what your Commander Monroe found. The rates of unexplained disappearances have been steadily increasing since Belial was destroyed,” he continues, lowering his voice, “But we still don't have all the answers. For one, Avalon still shows the greatest increase. Second, not all ADM deficient individuals react to this phenomenon. There must be some other factor that prevents them from being affected.”

“They have something that connects them to this world,” Monroe announces, causing you both to look around, “The missing people were lonely, abandoned, spurned by the world. They have wounded hearts, and this Lilim is preying on them because of it.”

“Interesting,” Brahms muses, “I'd like to see your evidence. How far have you studied this?”

Almost immediately, Monroe's attempt at acting cool breaks down. “Well, ah, I've not really studied it all that much, but it seems to fit,” she pauses, thinks for a moment, continues, “People aren't meant to live alone. We need to feel connected, to each other and to the world around us. Without that connection, without a reason to keep going... well, is it really so surprising that these people disappeared?”

“I'd have to dispute that,” the doctor argues, “I believe that men CAN live-”

“Can we save the philosophy for later?” you snap, “Like, when we DON'T have Lilim growing under our feet? Like, are you-”

The shrill chirp of Monroe's phone cuts you off here, and she hurriedly turns away with an awkward smile. “Right? Right, I'll tell her,” she states after listening for a moment, turning back to you, “Good news, Holly!”

“Clay?” you gasp, “You found him?”

“We found him,” Monroe answers, hesitating for a moment before adding, “But that's not all we found.”

[1/2]

>>3946615

Eerie memories of the Paris incident site flash through your mind when you arrive at the scene, the street sealed off and crowded with white tents. Men in bulky, humped biohazard suits move from place to place with brisk, purposeful strides while large crates are offloaded from military trucks. Every time you see a blue UN helmet, you tense up. How much longer will you be able to rely on their support?

But that's a problem for another day. Looking away from them, you follow Monroe into the largest of the tents. Immediately, you spot Clay sitting on a low bench with a thick blanket draped around his shoulders. His face is blank, his eyes unresponsive and his shoulders slumped. You take a step towards him, then hesitate as if afraid to touch him. Monroe nods slightly, putting a hand on your back and nudging you a little closer to the young man. He doesn't look up, even when you call his name.

“They found crawling through the tunnels. It looks like he hurt his leg somehow, but we need to check him over properly,” Monroe whispers, “He hasn't said a thing. I'm going to take him to the hospital, just to be sure we don't miss anything. I don't really know what else we CAN do.”

Outside the tent, you hear a flurry of raised voices. You turn, but not before noticing Clay's utter lack of any reaction. Caught between remaining here and seeing what the commotion is, you opt for the latter. The party is already over by the time you emerge, and you see Fletcher standing near the tent entrance with a heavy metal case in his hand. “Is Doctor Brahms here?” the mercenary asks, “I have some samples for him to analyse, and I need it done ASAP.”

“I'm here,” Brahms announces, “What was that all about?”

Fletcher looks back, a grimace creasing his face. “False alarm. One of the men had a panic attack, started trying to pull his suit off. We thought...” he pauses, “Forget it. Take these samples back to HQ and see what you can do. Doctor. If this Lilim isn't fully developed yet, will the subsonics keep it under control?”

“Possibly. I really can't say for definite,” the doctor answers cautiously, gesturing towards the large cases, “I think it's worth testing out. Are those...”

“Right. We're getting them into position now,” Fletcher says with a curt nod, “Reynolds. Remain on standby until we know what the situation is.”

And with that, they all go off to their duties. Leaving you to do...

>Follow Monroe to the hospital with Clay
>Head back to HQ with Doctor Brahms
>Venture down into the sewers with Fletcher
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3946616
>>Follow Monroe to the hospital with Clay
Reminds me of the woman in Paris, but at least he's not coughing up LCL. Is there a picture of the baseball club we can keep near him? Something that connects him to the world.

>>3946616
>Head back to HQ with Doctor Brahms.
It provides us a good chance to go through Bergmann's stuff personally.

And ask him about the possibility of Academy having the Research for the new power plant done at The Garden, and if they would use Julia as the test pilot.

>>3946616
>>Follow Monroe to the hospital with Clay

As Fletcher and Brahms get to work, you turn and hurry back to the medical tent just in time to see Monroe leading Clay out. He's able to walk, albeit with a sluggish pace, but he doesn't seem to know where he's going. Whenever Monroe pauses, the young man immediately comes to a slumped halt. “Hey, chief!” you call out, “I'm coming with you!”

She turns, her face caught between hope and fear. “Are you sure?” she asks, “I'd be glad to have you along, but... I don't know how to say this, but if the situation doesn't improve...”

“But it WILL,” you insist, nodding urgently, “It has to!”

Hesitating again, Monroe finally lets out a weary laugh. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?” she decides, gesturing over to her car. You help her get Clay into the back, making sure that he's comfortable. He might not notice it, but you do. When you glance around, you see the older woman's worried eyes reflected in the rear view mirror. Of course, you know exactly what she's worried about. If this goes wrong...

Banishing the thought, the doubts, you sit down and fasten your seatbelt. As Monroe drives through the city streets, a new idea comes to mind. “Why are we taking him to the hospital?” you ask, “Why not the infirmary back at HQ?”

“That's another option, of course. If there's any... contamination, we might need to bring him back to HQ with us. First, though, I want to get Clay checked out by a specialist – someone with experience of, um, trauma,” she answers, carefully guiding the car around a busy junction, “Call it female intuition, but I think that's going to be more useful than anything we've got back at HQ. Trust me, okay?”

Female intuition?

“Okay chief,” you murmur, “I'll take your word for it.”

-

Lingering by Clay's bedside, you watch as the waifish nurse wraps a padded bandage around his ankle. You winced at the first sight of it, swollen and black with bruises. It looks like he twisted it somehow, maybe falling in the dark and tangled sewer tunnels. Clay doesn't notice the treatment, or the soft murmurs of reassurance the nurse wastes on him. Monroe is still away, looking for her “specialist”, so you're left to watch and wait.

Contamination. You wish Monroe hadn't said that. Now, you can't get the idea out of your head. Maybe you should have gone back with Brahms after all, to see if his research turns up anything. But, you consider, you probably would have had to wait anyway. As soon as you've got a better idea of Clay's condition, you'll head back to HQ and check on the doctor's progress. That's the plan, at least. For all you know, the world might end between now and then.

“There, all done,” the nurse announces, patting Clay on the head, “Now get some rest, you hear?”

Maybe he does hear, but he doesn't reply. Giving you a sad, fleeting smile, the nurse bows her head and retreats from the room.

[1/?]

>>3946631

Dimly and distantly aware that Clay is wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown – his clothes, filthy with sewer grime, had been taken away for discrete disposal – you sit down on the edge of the bed. Shifting yourself a little closer to him, you think of something to say. “The sewers, though?” you think aloud, “Man, that's nasty. Did you see any alligators, at least?”

No answer.

“Nah, probably not,” you sigh, “A whole lot of shit, I bet, but no alligators. You made me pretty worried, you know. You gonna take responsibility for that?”

No answer.

“Jeez, give me a break,” you mutter, shaking your head, “My boss, she said that people aren't made to live alone. She said that we all need something that connects us to the world, to each other. What do you think about that?” You wait, silently pleading for an answer that never comes. “C'mon man, I'm not asking for an essay here. Just tell me I'm talking crap if that's what you really think, just...” a pause, “Just say SOMETHING.”

No answer. Finally, with an almost savage lunge, you throw your arms around the unresponsive boy and cling to him. His body feels cold and limp, with no strength at all in his limbs. When your embrace fails you start to shake Clay by the shoulders, gently at first but then with a ferocity that causes his body to flop back and forth. Despair sours and turns to anger, and you draw back your hand to slap him across the face when-

“Holly!” Monroe snaps, grabbing your wrist before the blow can land. Guilt, hot and raw, rips through you like a knife. You wince, bracing yourself for her anger, perhaps even horror, but then she pulls you tight to her chest. “Holly...” she repeats, murmuring your name to herself, “You said he would improve. You were sure of it. Have you given up so soon?”

“No, but...” you mumble, your words muffled by her chest, “But I don't know what to do.” Monroe draws back, giving you a patient smile. With a sudden clarity, you remember Paris once again. “I've seen this before,” you state, “In Paris, this woman was... she was like this, but she got better. I showed her a picture, a photograph. If we showed Clay something like that, maybe he'll wake up. Something from the baseball club maybe, I don't know if he has anything like that, but...”

“I'll check. I'll start with the school, and then I'll go to his home if need be,” Monroe promises, “Can you stay here? If Clay wakes up on his own, he'll want a friendly face nearby.”

Another spasm of guilt tugs at you as she says this, but you nod. “I'll stay,” you agree, “But what about that specialist?”

Monroe's smile turns rueful. “I suppose a lot of people need help these days,” she states, “Just... Just talk to him. I'm sure it'll help.” As Monroe turns to hurry out, you sit back down and think about where to start.

>Best to wait and see what Monroe can find
>You've got something to talk about... (Write in)
>Other

>>3946662
>You've got something to talk about... (Write in)
Guess we could reminiscence about building the club's activity at the school fair and us showcasing it.

>>3946662
>You've got something to talk about... (Write in)
We don't really know very much about Clay himself, I guess he is a little like Holly in that way, lets start by seeing if he will respond if we talk about the incident he was involved in where he smashed up that Blue Car, and why he kept working on the Stall for the Festival, if that doesn't work there should be materiel left over from the Festival somewhere.

>>3946662
Just talk about baseball practice to start with, then transition into our injuries and how we got them, dont hold back.

Perched on the edge of the bed, you search for something to talk about. It's hard, and soon the faith Monroe has in you starts to feel like a burden. Like a high expectation that you need to live up to. “Looks like we've got a problem on our hands, huh?” you begin, simply speaking without thinking too hard about the words, “This would be way easier if I knew more about you. I guess we've been dancing around each other for a while now, never getting too close. Maybe that's what she – my boss, I mean – is talking about. We don't open up to each other, and then this is what happens when times get tough.”

No answer.

“Sorry for shaking you. And almost slapping you. I've got a pretty good right hook on me though, I bet that would have woken you right up. Er, maybe I shouldn't joke about that,” you continue, “I guess you know what it's like to lose your temper, though. I remember you telling me about that car you smashed up. That guy really deserved it, huh? Still, that's no way to live. I sorta know this girl, and that's all she has left. All she wants to do is smash up the world. You gotta have something else, right? Something GOOD you can hold onto...”

Was it your imagination, or did Clay's hand just twitch? His finger seem to close, as if holding onto some imaginary baseball bad. But it's small, so small that you can't be sure. Choosing to believe in him, you continue with renewed energy.

“Like that show we put on for the festival. That was good, wasn't it?” you tell him, “You know, I always thought it was really cool how much effort you put into that. Even when the others were slacking off, you kept at it. It was hard work, but it was worth it in the end. Do you remember how many people were there? It was crazy, I'd never gone up in front of an audience like that before. I just told myself that if you were going to all that effort, I couldn't let you down. You see? That's what it means to be connected to stuff. You inspire people to do their best, and... and then they inspire other people too. You know what I mean?”

No answer. Maybe it really was your imagination. Sighing quietly to yourself, you get up from the bed and walk across to the window. There's a whole city out there, everyone going about their difference without any idea of what's beneath their feet. At least they won't be afraid of something they can't do anything about. Maybe ignorance really is-

“Holly?” a hoarse voice rasps. Turning hurriedly around, you see Clay slowly rubbing his eyes. “Where am I?” he whispers, “Is this a... hospital?”

Crossing the room in a leap, you grab the young man and pull him into a desperate hug. Although startled, Clay certainly doesn't complain.

>Ego increased by 5
>Current Ego: 59/70

[1/?]

>>3946697

“I don't really remember much,” Clay muses, rubbing his temple as he thinks, “I had, uh, an argument with my folks. I remember going out to get some air, just to get away from them, and then things start to get hazy. It's like I was following someone, or... or following a route I've walked so many times that... ugh, this talking stuff sucks. That probably didn't make any sense, did it?”

“A route you've walked so many times that you could follow it with your eyes closed,” you offer, “Right?”

“Right,” he agrees, “I remember feeling... I remember what I was going towards, sort of. It was like this warmth, this sense of belonging. It was like coming home, I guess. What people usually mean when they talk about “home”, you know?”

Something you understand all too well. Clay seems to read something on your face, because he gives you a faltering little nod. A secret shared between the two of you, that's what that nod seems to say. Swallowing heavily, like a man fighting the urge to vomit, he forces himself to speak. “I just don't GET them. My folks, I mean. It's like all they ever do is hurt each other. They just argue, tearing strips off each other for no fucking reason,” he hisses, “Like, they hate each other, but they hate the thought of being alone even more. All the while, I'm caught in the middle of it and I just wanted...”

This time, you don't try to finish his thought. This is something he needs to say for himself.

“I just wanted out,” he admits at last, “That's all that mattered.”

And that's what led him straight into the Lilim's trap. With a low sigh, Clay shuts his eyes and leans against your shoulder. Accepting it, you glance up and notice Monroe standing silently at the doorway, a tender smile on her face. “HQ,” she mouths, nodding towards the corridor, “I'll wait.”

Back to HQ. Maybe Brahms found something, or maybe you've got other problems to deal with. There's always something, after all. As for Clay, he looks about ready to sleep for a straight week. He probably wouldn't mind if you slipped away for a little.

>Catch up with Monroe. Time to head back to HQ
>Before you leave... (Write in)
>Other

>>3946731
>Catch up with Monroe. Time to head back to HQ
"Get some rest Clay. I'll come by again. I need to go kick the ass of whatever is causing this."

Surprised he didn't comment on the eye patch.

>>3946731
>Before you leave... (Write in)
We should let him sleep many things are going on right now. Just let him know that once things have calmed down again, we can feed him the excuse about our eye, and maybe enough about our job in order for him to keep quiet about it.

>>3946747
>we can feed him the excuse about our eye
Nah. We are already talking about HQ and Monroe as our boss. He was also open about his injury and issues. I say just be honest with him if he asks.

>>3946750
But Anon, Holly spent forever coming up with the perfect excuse, and now you don't even want to see what it was.

>>3946731
>>Catch up with Monroe. Time to head back to HQ

>>3946762
I wouldn't mind seeing it fall flat on it's face. That'd be funny.

As Monroe backs out, leaving you alone with Clay, you pat the young man on the arm. “I gotta get back to work,” you murmur to him, “You get some rest, okay? I've got butts to kick and worlds to save. I'll be back soon, we can talk some more then. But you know, I've got a bone to pick with you. Don't you know that girls hate it when you don't notice things?”

Clay opens his eyes, looking at you with a new confusion. Then, realisation dawns. “Your eye?” he mumbles, “I, ah, of course I noticed. I just thought you didn't want to talk about it.”

“I'll give you the full story soon,” you promise, dearly wishing you could give him a wink, “All the gory details.”

“I can't wait,” he replies, giving you a weak smile.

-

Monroe doesn't talk much on the drive back to HQ. Occasionally, you catch her grinning coyly to herself, but she never offers much in the way of explanation. Not that she really needs to – you can guess what she's thinking, what kind of assumptions she's making.

“Busy roads today,” you mention awkwardly, trying to break the silence, “Lots of traffic.”

“We're evacuating the area,” Monroe replies briskly, steering carefully around a knot of stalled traffic, “Not the whole city, just the immediate area. That should be enough, the rest of the civilians can use their normal shelters. The Lilim seems contained within a fairly small area – um, one of the storm reservoirs, I believe. If the situation changes we can look into widening the evacuation area, but we'd prefer not to.”

“Right, right,” you murmur, “So what's the latest news? Why are we heading back?”

“Quentin, I mean Doctor Brahms, has made some discoveries. That's all I really know. I think he's the sort of man who prefers to talk in person. Wait, do you think he just wants to see me?” she pauses, “Well, uh, we're getting distracted. What I mean is, we'll just have to ask him in person.”

“Ask him about the Lilim,” you state.

“Of course!” Monroe laughs, “What did you think I meant?”

-

“Shall we begin?” Doctor Brahms asks, looking around at the assembled crowd. Save for Fletcher, who remains back at the incident site, you're all here to hear what he has to say. “I'll summarise my findings as simple as I can, then. First of all, this phenomenon has been observed in multiple cities across the globe. However, they all appear to be connected. What affects one site appears to affect them all.”

“So if we destroyed one, we'd destroy them all,” Kaori asks, “Is that correct?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Brahms agrees, “However, these gathering pools – as we've come to call them – are yet to present any real means of destruction. They lack a Lilim core, for example. That brings me to my second point. The exact nature – and, indeed, purpose - of these gathering pools remains unclear. Further study is required.”

Further study. You don't like the sound of that.

[1/?]

>>3946804

“Now, when you say it's unclear...” Claudia asks, “What exactly do you mean?”

“There are currently two competing theories. The initial assumption was that these gathering pools would eventually create a new Lilim, using the harvested LCL as raw materials. The absence of a Lilim core, however, casts some doubt on this theory. It may be that these pools are an end, not a means,” Brahms pauses, “Or, put simply, they are nothing more than a way to destroy humans.”

An awkward silence, then Brahms clears his throat. “I should repeat, these are just theories,” he points out, “Until we have more evidence either way, we should be careful about making any assumptions.”

“I understand. I think we all understand,” Monroe replies, glancing around at you, “What about the subsonics? Are they doing anything?”

“Again, it's hard to be certain. However, the subsonic frequencies seem to cause disruption on a cellular level. It would not be enough to harm a fully formed Lilim, but it seems to be preventing any further development,” Brahms turns and taps a few keys on his computer, nodding towards the monitors. Both screens show the gathering pool itself – a deep cistern filled with reddish LCL, the fluid shot through with pale streaks. It looks... contaminated, like normal LCL that has gone bad. From one picture to the next, the pale streaks seem to multiply. “Development,” Brahms repeats, “These pictures were taken half an hour apart, before the subsonic frequencies were deployed. As you can see, a change was taking place. That change has been, for now, suspended.”

“So is it possible that, like, the Lilim core hasn't formed yet?” you ask, raising your hand.

“That is indeed a possibility,” Brahms confirms, “My personal theory – although I am loathe to indulge in speculation such as this – is that the Lilim core has already formed in some “other” location. What is being created now is a body, a vessel that the core will inhabit. Our first priority, then, should be locating and destroying this external core.”

Another silence. “The Dirac Sea,” Yulia points out, “If this core is anywhere, it will be there.”

“Oh good,” Claudia sighs, dramatically rolling her eyes, “I was worried that we might have a large area to search.”

>I need to take a short pause here. It shouldn't be much longer than an hour, but I can't be 100% certain. I'll get back to writing as soon as possible.

>>3946856
just like xcom. Once the mars mission begins you cant back out. We are going to be stuck fighting in Dirac straight until the end.

Well all has been dank thus far gm. Thanks for running, ill still be lurking

>>3946872
You can back out in the original X-Com.

You're starting to leave with everyone else when you hear Brahms let out a low sigh of frustration. Glancing back, you see him shifting about some of Bergmann's old things – old books, and various devices that you know only as “science stuff”. You recognise a microscope, but that's about it. For what it's worth, Brahms doesn't seem to know what to do with the stuff either. He's just trying to impose some kind of order onto the chaos Bergmann left behind.

That poor, poor man.

“Need some help?” you offer, gesturing to the mess, “I'm no scientist, but I can move boxes.”

“Please,” Brahms replies, accepting your offer with polite relief, “I just need you to help me pack up these things. Books in one box, everything else in the other. I'll sort through them later, when I have the time.”

So you get to work, sneaking glances at Bergmann's things as you put them away. You're furtive about it at first, but once you realise that Brahms is doing much the same thing, you don't bother to hide it. Soon, any pretence of tidying up has been lost as you both examine anything that catches your eye. “I was never really sure, like, how serious Bergmann was about any of this stuff,” you admit, shuffling a deck of Tarot cards, “Sometimes, it all felt like a big act she was putting on.”

“I couldn't really say. I never knew her well enough for that,” Brahms answers cautiously, “However, I've read a great many of her older essays. Most of them had a faint air of... mockery, perhaps. Scorn, even. Scorn for the reader, and for the world at large. She wrote like a woman expecting to be ignored or written off as a lunatic.”

“Can't imagine why,” you mutter to yourself, setting the cards aside. So far, you've found nothing that relates to the work Bergmann did here – nothing she did to Nate. “So hey, this generator thing your old colleagues were working on. You said it was dangerous, right?” you ask, “Exactly how dangerous are we talking about here?”

“The Lilim material could drive the ADM into a state of constant frenzy. Alternatively, the amount of energy it produces could exceed all expectations, potentially leading to an explosive chain reaction,” Brahms pauses, “So, extremely dangerous.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, pausing as an idea occurs to you, “So, if they were going to build a prototype of that, they'd do it somewhere isolated... right?”

Brahms considers this for a moment, nodding his agreement. “Unless the research has been progressing far quicker than I had anticipated, a prototype is still a long way away. However, yes, it would be wise to conduct trials in an isolated location,” he studies your face for a moment, “And yes, the Garden would be a likely candidate. However, I should state, this is-”

“Only speculation, I know,” you sigh, “But isn't it fun to take wild guesses now and then?”

“No,” Brahms replies, giving you a mild frown, “Not really.”

[1/?]

Additionally there is also the possibility of them replicating the process used to create the Titan for the Power Test Unit since it's supposed to be experimental test bed and they have control over Temple, and would benefit greatly from being able to continue using it's power after this whole situation blows over, and the dust settles or a handy stop gap solution if we fail, considering that Biomass isn't going to be a problem so they handily avoid the ethics problem, and Julia is a handy candidate for the pilot, based of Bergmann's testing she shares some key Markers with Huang while she was infected, and we don't know how widely those results were shared, and with who, also since they know it is possible and they have much more resources that NHIL ever did at their disposal, they don't have to worry about secrecy. Progress is going to occur much faster than it did.


I'm also considering turning Konstantine's disk over to Brahms, he seems much more level headed then Bergmann and if he can reveal any critical information that we overlooked even better.

>>3946982

“Oh,” the doctor adds, his frown opening up into a rare expression of surprise, “I had something to show you. Please, give me a moment.” Marching across the room, he opens a neat briefcase and takes out his phone. Tapping the screen for a few seconds, he passes it over to you. “Before I left Academy, I had a chance to visit the pilots,” he explains, “I mentioned that I would be coming here, and Eins asked me to record this.”

“April, huh?” you murmur. Clicking the video, you watch as all six members of BLUE EYE crowd into the frame. They all look cheerful and carefree, even Ava, but you feel your stomach tighten up at the sight of them.

“Hey hey people, Emma here! Long time no see, huh?” Emma shouts, flashing a peace sign to the camera, “I know we only had like, one day together, but we're all missing you a lot. Shut UP Ava, we all know you're missing her too. You just get off on acting grumpy all the time!” The whole group laughs here, with Ava scowling enormously at her colleague. “Anyway, things are super boring here. Nothing but training sims, day after day. I hope things are more interesting for you!” she adds, “But not, uh, too interesting.”

“What she means to say is, we all hope things are going well over there in the States,” April states, a cool smile on her face, “You do your part, and we'll do ours, okay?”

“But don't worry!” Fiona yells, pushing her way to the front of the group, “The lady said we're gonna see you REAL soon!”

The video ends a few seconds after that, just long enough for you to see the surprise on their faces. That last line, you guess, wasn't a part of the script. An uneasy feeling settles deep in the pit of your stomach as you consider the words. Looking around at Brahms, you give him a dubious look. “Ah. Zwei has been asking after you a lot, to anyone who'll listen,” he explains, “Perhaps one of the staff told her that to try and, well, calm her down.”

“But you don't know that for sure,” you murmur, “You're just speculating.”

“True. I didn't have a chance to make inquiries,” he concedes, “But I'm not sure what else it could be.” Taking the phone back from you, he fastidiously wipes the screen clean before returning it to his briefcase. “In either case, I was asked to pass the message along when I saw you. Better late than never, as they say,” he continues, “Now. I appreciate your help with sorting Doctor Bergmann's belongings, but I should be able to finish up here. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

>There's nothing else
>There's something... (Write in)
>Other

>>3947072
>There's something... (Write in)
Three things, whose the lady they mentioned? Whya re they "coming to see me soon"? and an another totally unrelated topic, connections DO help in survival and recovery of EGO in AT related attacks. There was a woman after that attack, the pictures kept her from tanging and gave her enough resolve to reverse the process.

>>3947072
>There's something... (Write in)
Can you Keep a secret?
Turn Konstantine's disk over to Brahms, keep Vic's involvement a secret.

Also we don't know if NHIL managed to Clear their servers in the bunker before Fletcher's team took custody of them, so they may have access to some of this info.

>>3947072
>>There's something... (Write in)
"Doc if Leighton and UN do what I hope they never do and use those girls against us for whatever reason I need your help to stop them without hurting them. Anything you have that can help. Loopholes on their programming, disabling their ADMs, their combat data. Everything helps. Please Doc.

“There is something. A few things, actually,” you begin, choosing your words with care, “You really don't know who that “lady” Fiona mentioned was?”

“No. The BLUE EYE team had their medical examinations recently, and it may have been one of the nurses. However, I really can't say for sure,” Brahms answers, shaking his head, “Usually, the BLUE EYE team are kept separate from most staff. I don't fully agree with the practise, but it was decided before I had any say in the matter. Aside from special times, such as their medical examinations, only high level UN staff would have access to them.”

High level UN staff. Like Matheson, perhaps. “And why would she say they'd be coming to see us?” you press, “Just to make Fiona shut up about it?”

“That's the only explanation I can offer,” the doctor states, “It seems cruel, to give her false hope like that, but perhaps this woman thought she was doing her a kindness. It's not my place to say.”

Sometimes, you'd prefer Brahms if he was a little LESS rational about things. Just once, you'd like to see him get angry or upset, just to see what it was like. “Listen. There's something I need to ask you. Can you keep this between us? It's kinda related to what we've been talking about, with the BLUE EYE girls. If they... if the UN did what I seriously hope they don't do, and they send the BLUE EYE team after us, I need something to use against them. Some way to get them to back down. Secret codes, command words, tactics to use against them,” you pause, “Is there anything you can give me?”

Brahms stares at you, as if horrified by the idea, by the possibility that you might fight. Then, slowly, he relents. “There are two points worth mentioning. The BLUE EYE pilots are trained, primarily, to act as a team, following Ava's instructions. If she was... disabled... the others would be left disorientated. They are trained to fight without her orders, but they would be less coordinated,” he explains, his voice quiet, “Second of all, Emma. We still don't understand why, but Emma is flawed. On two separate occasions, she's lost control during a training simulation and attacked her fellow pilots. We believe it may be some kind of reaction to extreme stress, but that's still only a theory. Now that I'm here, it will unfortunately have to remain a theory.”

“So if Ava was knocked out somehow, or removed their... their network or whatever, Emma might freak out?” you ask, “That's... God, I hope I never need to use that.”

“I hope so too,” Brahms concedes, “I hope you realise, I don't tell you this lightly.”

“Right,” you pause for a moment, “So, uh, why ARE you telling me this?”

“Because everything I've seen of you tells me that you'll use this information wisely,” he answers, “That may not be a rational answer, but even I trust my instincts sometimes.”

[1/2]

>>3947136
Does their programming react to signals or auditory commands? If so we might be able to deafen them from it and have them be able to act on their own free will. I just want to avoid a situation where we have them surrendered and Leighton sends something that makes them lose their rational will and fight to the death or something.

>>3947136

“How are these commands given?” you ask next, “Spoken commands, or something else? Just, if we can block them out somehow, we might be able to get them to act of their own free will. That's better than... you know, mindlessly obeying whatever orders they're given.”

“Auditory commands, primarily, so blocking any external radio contact would prevent any orders being given,” he answers, “These commands are kept classified, most of them restricted to the highest level of UN staff. Ava herself doesn't have access to any of them. So, without the external radio link with her commander, the BLUE EYE team would be left to act according to their own training.”

Brahms, you realise, is placing a lot of faith in you. He's trusting you, openly and without reservation. The cynical side of your mind is crying out a warning, crying out that he's just trying to get you to let your guard down, but you shut it out. After so much paranoia, so much suspicion, you WANT to believe this is real. “Listen Doctor, there's something I'd like to show you. Information. From NIHIL,” you murmur, keeping your voice low, “Can you take a look at it for me? And, um, keep it quiet. Just keep it between you and me.”

With a small frown of thought, Brahms nods. “I can take a look at it, yes,” he replies slowly, “I assume you'd rather not say how you acquired this information.”

“Right,” you tell him, “That's right.”

“I see,” he nods again, “Then I won't pry.”

Once again, you're left both surprised and relieved. “You know doc, you're okay. I think you'll fit in pretty well here,” you remark, laughing softly to yourself, “Still not convinced that people need bonds and connections? Lay down a few here, you might change your mind. I've seen what they can do, how they can help people claw their way back from the brink. In Paris, and now here, it's happened twice – I've MADE it happen twice.”

“It's true, I may have been hasty,” Brahms concedes, accepting your point with a tilt of his head, “But please, allow me to expand on my argument. I do believe that men need something to hold onto, but that need not be another human. It can be a duty or an ideology, even a grudge. These can be connections too, can they not?”

“Well... that's true,” you admit, grinning slightly, “Okay, so maybe we're even. Still, I know a certain Commander who'd like to “connect” with you...”

Brahms looks away, clearing his throat but saying nothing for a long moment. “That disk,” he says eventually, “Would I be able to take a look at it now?”

Harsh. Very harsh.

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

>>3947190
Thanks for the run.

I'm starting to think we let Matheson get off way too lightly, though I guess now they will be looking for us, If we manage to get back into contact with Coraline we could probably be in and out real quick, before they realize anything is wrong, hopefully she doesn't have too big a problem with Bergmann, and Huang doesn't straight up reuse her help..

>>3947190
Thanks for running.

Looks like we need to look into jamming equipment. We knock out all connection to BLUE EYE's ADMs and use Karina to communicate with them and we'll be in a decent position. Hopefully.

>>3947190
We never told him it's a disk. We only said "information".

File: KarinaT.png (191 KB, 900x700)

191 KB PNG

“Checkmate,” Dakota states proudly, grinning victoriously at the chessboard.

“You can't just say “checkmate” after every move!” you protest, “That's not how this works!”

“If I say it every time, I'll get it right sooner or later,” the young girl insists, as stubborn as ever, “Then who's gonna look silly? That's right, you-” A soft laugh interrupts her here, and you both look around to see Karina giggling quietly to herself. Covering her mouth with one hand and keeping her voice low, she's every bit the demure young lady... unlike Dakota. “Oh, you're laughing now, but not for much longer!” she promises, pointing at Karina, “I'll checkmate you next!”

“But Miss Fisher,” Karina protests, “You don't even know what that means!”

“I do so! It's like...” Dakota pauses, floundering for a moment, “It's when you take the king?”

With a sad sigh, Karina shakes her head. “That's, ah, that's close. Check is when you CAN take the king, and checkmate is when you can't move out of check,” the sickly girl explains, “Ah, if only we were playing Shogi. It's a far more elegant game, but with greater depth. A true game for masters, or just those who appreciate-”

“Did you hear that, Dakota?” you ask, raising your voice, “I think I just heard a massive weeaboo!”

“What the fuck is a weeaboo?” Dakota asks, frowning in confusion, “Is that one of your city girl things?”

“Uh, I guess so,” pausing, you shrug, “Maybe that's enough chess for one day.”

-

Almost as soon as the subsonic emitters were activated, Karina's condition improved. If it was anyone else, you'd call it a medical miracle. As it is, you just take it as confirmation that the embryonic Lilim was behind her illness. You're glad to see her back in good health – good by her standards – but there's an uneasy feeling behind the relief. So long as the Lilim remains alive, it could all be snatched away from her.

You're still working on that one.

“Holly?” Karina asks, her soft voice barely audible over the hum of the elevator, “You've got a very serious look on your face. What, ah, what are you thinking about?”

“Me? Nothing,” you reply, forcing a grin, “I try and leave that thinking stuff to the experts.”

“Oh, don't put yourself down so much!” the sickly girl scolds, “I mean it. Go on, tell me!”

“Alright then, how about...” you sigh, leaning on the handles of her wheelchair, “Right now, I'm thinking about how glad I am that we don't need to take the stairs. How's that?”

Karina giggles softly. “Well, ah, I certainly know how you feel,” she agrees, “But I must admit, I'm a little nervous. Is Doctor Brahms nice? He sounds like a very serious person, from what I've heard. Do you think he'll like me?”

“Of course he will,” you assure her, “Who wouldn't like you?”

“Oh gosh,” Karina mumbles, clasping her hands to her chest, “Oh... oh gosh!”

[1/2]

>>3948157

“Fascinating, isn't it?” Doctor Brahms muses, studying the image of the Lilim gathering pool frozen on his computer screen, “We may very well be looking at the very building blocks of life itself. A strange thought, wouldn't you agree Miss Teufel?”

“Ah, well,” Karina pauses, “It certainly is... strange, yes.”

“Forgive me. I didn't mean to sound disrespectful. We must remember that a number of people lost their lives to create this phenomenon. Perhaps more could have been done to prevent it, had we not been so focused on... politics,” he sighs, shaking his head, “Sometimes, I wonder if mankind really deserves to survive. Certainly, we don't always make a very strong case for ourselves.”

That escalated quickly. Before you can comment – although you're not sure what you COULD say – the laboratory door opens and Fletcher marches inside. “Doctor Brahms!” he calls out, “You've been in contact with the UN, haven't you?”

“Indirectly. I needed to go through unofficial channels – an associate of mine. I tried contacting Academy, but I couldn't get through. There must be an issue with my security credentials,” Brahms explains, “They tend to be connected with individual facilities, so when I was stationed here it must have-”

“Who?” Fletcher interrupts, his voice hard. Brahms tenses up at the unspoken accusation, taking an involuntary step away from the mercenary. “Who are they? Who do they report to?” he barks, continuing the verbal assault, “How much do you trust this “associate” of yours? I need to-”

“Mister Fletcher!” Karina cries, doing her best to sound stern, “Don't be so rude!”

A sudden silence falls. Taken aback by her outburst, Fletcher turns to stare at Karina. Then, as if blaming you for it, he looks around and meets your eye.

>Don't look at me, I'm not getting involved in this
>Karina's right, you're being way too harsh about this. It's not fair
>Fletcher has a point. We need to know who Brahms is talking to
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3948158
>Karina's right, you're being way too harsh about this. Take a moment and let's start this over. Did something happen? Did something get leaked?

>>3948158
>Fletcher has a point. We need to know who Brahms is talking to.

Considering how close we currently are, to a shooting war with the other installations,
Fletcher's concerns are absolutely valid, though he would probably frame it better if he wasn't so stressed.

Maybe it's we ask Fletcher if we should try and reach out to Coraline, see if she will assist us in getting Bergmann and co. back.

>>3948158
>Hey don't look at me. Just calm down and ask better.

>>3948158
>Karina's right, you're being way too harsh about this. Take a moment and let's start this over. Did something happen? Did something get leaked?

It's not like we're at war with them. They haven't even cut off supplies yet. Plus I was pretty sure they still had oversight.

>>3948158
>Fletcher has a point. We need to know who Brahms is talking to
'Sorry, Karina, not the time for pleasantries, it looks like. Guys can handle it just fine.'

>Other
Does Fletcher want us around for an interrogation? Bad cop, good cop, et c.

I thought he could wiretap literally everyone in this facility, what's with the gap?

>>3948169
If anyone has the ability to reach out to Coraline it would be us. Also what you're suggesting would end in disaster. Coraline doesn't have restraint. She'd kill a lot of people at Academy if she even agreed in the first place. Rescuing the girls is going to take some real quiet commando shit if we don't want to start a war with the UN.

>>3948180
>Good cop/Bad cop interrogation

Lolno. I think you are misinterpreting the situation. Brahms didn't lie about being in correspondence with someone. Dude just doesn't know the full situation.

>>3948183
All she would need to do would be get us into and out of Berlin when we need her to, we should be able to handle the rest.

We could promise to turn any fragments of Excalibur to her that we find, or tell her where they are located, we know that there is at lest one in storage at Temple.

Why do you always get dragged into this crap? You just wanted to have a nice, relaxing day, but Fletcher had to go and try his bull in a china shop act. You look between the pair of men – Brahms, tense and silent while Fletcher blazes with a cold intensity – and heave a heavy sigh. “Can we like, not have a massive argument over this?” you ask without much hope, “We're all on the same side here, aren't we?”

“I don't know,” Fletcher replies bluntly, looking back around and spearing Brahms with his glare, “Are we?”

“Oh come on!” you groan, “Look, I'm not saying that you shouldn't ASK, but Karina's right – you're being way too harsh about this. It's not fair on Brahms, treating him like a criminal, and it's not fair on us. What's wrong anyway, did something get leaked?”

Fletcher's scowl darkens for a moment, but then he curtly shakes his head. “There was an unauthorised communication from your doctor friend,” he explains, “I don't know who he was calling or what they were talking about. That kind of security is usually reserved for the highest levels of office. You understand what I mean, don't you?”

This time, you give Brahms a probing look. “Must be a pretty important friend you've got,” you remark, leaving the implicit question unspoken.

“He serves as a liaison between the UN and a number of private corporations. That kind of position demands a degree of discretion. Corporate espionage is a very serious concern, especially when ADM-related technologies are concerned. If this information fell into the wrong hands...” Brahms pauses here, giving Karina a sideways glance, “Miss Teufel. I apologise for this disruption. Had I known that this was going to happen, I would have asked you to come back later.”

“Private corporations,” Fletcher repeats, his reply trampling over whatever Karina was about to say, “Kinsley Biotech?”

Kinsley?

“That... is one of them, yes,” Brahms concedes, “Why? Do you know something about that particular organisation?”

Batting the question away with a crude gesture, Fletcher presses on. “Now. I need to know everything that you told this “associate” of yours,” he warns, “Take your time and think it over. I don't want you to forget anything.”

“I asked him to look into these disappearances in other cities. It was a large task, too large for any one man to handle, so I knew we'd need help. He was able to uncover the other gathering pools, and he assisted in studying them. Thanks to his assistance, we know that the subsonic frequencies deployed HERE the other sites,” Brahms answers, speaking with a wounded dignity, “Without his assistance, we would be working at a great disadvantage. Lives may have been lost without his cooperation.”

Fletcher glares for a moment more before letting out a low grunt, turning on his heel and marching out. The interrogation is over, apparently.

[1/?]

>>3948218
Fletch sure seems grumpy today

>>3948218

“Oh, I hate arguments!” Karina breathes, slumping in her chair, “Why can't we all be civil with each other?”

“In my experience, soldiers tend to have little patience with civility,” Brahms laments, “Thank you, Miss Reynolds, for your support. I assumed that I was following all the correct security procedures – I was contacting a trusted source on a secured line. There was no chance that confidential information could be leaked to an unauthorised party. I assumed that would be enough.”

“Yeah, well...” you shrug, “Fletcher can be pretty tight about this stuff. You should have cleared it with him first, even with all that security stuff.”

“I'll remember that next time,” he sighs, “Does it surprise you, to hear that the UN works with private corporations? It's an unfortunate necessity, considering the number of projects we have in development at any one time. Lucrative careers in the private sector lure away many bright minds, leaving us with no choice but to-”

Karina clears her throat, causing you both to glance around. “Excuse me,” she murmurs, “I think I should go. Doctor Brahms. Would you call down to my quarters? I'll ask Cam to bring me back. I... need to get some sleep. This has all been rather exhausting.”

Nodding gravely, Brahms picks up his office phone and starts to dial.

-

“There's something that's been bothering me,” you muse, watching as Brahms sorts through a small stack of papers, “That information I mentioned before... How did you know it was a disk?”

Brahms pauses. “It was a guess. I was aware that NIHIL acquired some sensitive information, and I was aware that it was on a physical medium. We were briefed on NIHIL some time ago, and a part of that briefing was the order to look out for this information – specifically, a disk,” he explains, “When you mentioned the information you had, I assumed it was the same kind. I also assumed that you came to possess this information through... complicated circumstances. Better for both of us if I didn't ask.”

“But you said it was a disk,” you point out.

“A slip of the tongue,” Brahms concedes, a rare hint of a smile forming at one corner of his mouth, “I would make a terrible spy, wouldn't I?”

His attempt at humour, if that's really what that was, is forced to say the least. “Uh...” an awkward pause, “Have you had a chance to look at it yet?”

“A brief look. I'm afraid it's the kind of material that demands a careful examination. From my initial impressions, I'd have to wonder if a priest wrote some of these notes. What little hard science there is has been mixed with mysticism and philosophy. It gives me a headache just thinking about it,” the doctor remarks, wincing slightly, “Little wonder that NIHIL were so deranged, if this is the material they were working from.”

[2/3]

>>3948248

Leaving Brahms to his work, you stop by Fletcher's office before returning to the dorm. His pistol is out, dismantled on the desk in front of him as he cleans it. Looking up at the sound of your knock, he frowns briefly before looking back down. “You're grumpy today,” you remark, “Just one of those days?”

“One of those years,” he replies curtly, “Between the prisoners in Academy, this radio silence, and our Lilim friend in the sewers, I've barely had a moment to think. I think I was happier when people were trying to kill me. That, at least, was honest work.”

There isn't much you can say to that, is there? Giving him a vague nod, you retreat back to the dorm. You arrive just as Claudia is getting ready to leave, standing still as her maid drapes a light summer coat over her shoulders. “You know, I've seen some pretty lazy people in my time – and hell, I've had a few idle days myself – but I've never seen someone too lazy to put their own coat on,” you laugh, “Congratulations princess. You've managed to raise the bar once again.”

“Why thank you,” Claudia replies sweetly, “Would you like to join us?”

“Another exciting evening of jazz at that bar of yours?” you ask, “I dunno. I was thinking about going to the hospital to see Clay. Should just be able to catch the end of visiting hours...”

“My my, sneaking out to visit a boy,” the heiress tuts, “What a terrible example to set for the rest of your colleagues!”

“C'mon man, don't make it sound so...” you begin, only to stop yourself short. This is seriously not an argument you want to get into. Not now, not ever.

>Join Claudia and Hester at the bar
>Head to the hospital and visit Clay
>Stay at the dorm with the other pilots
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3948290
>Join Claudia and Hester at the bar
If there is time after we can split off and visit the hospital.

>>3948290
>There's something else... (Write in)
Send Coraline a message, see if she is ok we haven't heard from her in a while.
Then.
>Join Claudia and Hester at the bar

>>3948290
>Head to the hospital and visit Clay
Claudia is annoying.