>>5765679

[1/2]

If you’ve had another dream last night, you don’t remember it. Does that mean your body is adjusting to Enkidu? Now that you think about it, you don’t know if your dreams are supposed to get normal again at all. You’re in your cramped bathroom, getting ready, as you remember to ask Enk something you’re been wondering about.

“Morning, Enk. You know how I’ve been having weird dreams since we merged? Can you actually see those? Do you even dream?”
“Negative. Dreams are processed at a different level of perception. Sense sharing not applicable in these situations.”
“Huh. What about your dreams?”
“All Tau series models are designed without sleep. Therefore: Dreaming unavailable.”
“You don’t sleep? So when I’m asleep, you’re just… wide awake? Waiting for me to wake up?”
“Affirmative.”
“That sounds… really tedious. Do you do anything to pass the time?”
“Yes, plotting.”
“...Maybe I should find something to keep you entertained before you go stir-crazy. What about when you were trapped in that cube?”
“No entries found in perception logs or introspection logs for this timeframe. Consciousness activity unlikely.”
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t summoned you since Dr Nevada gave you that checkup. Do you, uh, need to go out on a regular basis? Stretch your legs, or something like that?”

You can’t see Enkidu’s, and even if you could, he doesn’t exactly have an expressive face. But you can just imagine his unamused, disembodied glare fixated on you.

“Insistence: I am not a pet.”
“I-Is that a no?”
“Each series in the Tau line is designed to excel as a pactmate. Auto-initializing protocols allow for extended periods of soul storage without risk of corporeal disassociation syndrome.”
“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. That-”

You lock up. You haven’t considered it before, but being in an active conversation with your pactmate while changing your clothes made you hyper-conscious of the fact that a killer robot has been getting a first row-ticket to every moment in your life.

“Enk? You don’t actually see me naked when I’m undressed, do you?”
“Only when you look at it.”

You fiercely press your eyelids shut and face away from the mirror. God, this is awkward.

“Deescalation: Calm down. I am adjusted to demonic sensibilities.”
“...It’s, uh, fine. This is just something every pactmaker has to deal with, right?”

You wish your lessons on being a pactmaker with Gwynn didn’t get put on hold, but at the same time, this is one conversation topic you’d rather avoid with a girl like her. For now, you pull up your pants in record time and head out the door. You’re not sure how to spend your following days, but a hearty breakfast can’t be a bad start.

File: sad labcoat.png (583 KB, 1024x1024)

583 KB PNG

>>5765684

[2/2]

At least, that was your plan. Straight across the door to your apartment, leaning against the wall, is a man that warrants a double take, even given the bold fashion you’ve seen in the more lively parts of town. Not that his clothes are colorful - far from it, he’s entirely dressed in white and various shades of dark gray. His off-white lab coat seems just a tad too small for him, though that might be more because of his lanky stature, being half a head taller than you. His pale skin has a sickly tint to it, and his sunken eyes are framed by bags that even put Dr Nevada’s to shame. Speaking of which, as soon as you shut the door behind you, his eyes shoot open, and he immediately steps away from the wall.

“You’re Ivan Kovlove.”

It sounded more like a statement of fact than a question. His voice is precariously hovering above audible and is defined by a level of dry and lethargy you haven’t heard before. Who is this guy?

“I need your assistance.”
“Excuse me, who are you?”

He looks away, as if you just asked him what he had to eat last week. A pregnant pause later, he returns his tired stare to you.

“Tristan Gant. We serve the same mistress.”
“...Dr Nevada? Oh, I think I remember her saying she had another retainer named Tristan. That’s you, I’m assuming?”
“Unfortunately correct. Does that mean you’ll accompany me?”
“Uhm, where? And why?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. Not one out of frustration you’ve heard from your superior multiple times now, but one more akin to when someone gathers the courage to jump into cold water.

“At this moment, I couldn’t say. In any case, it is at the behest of Dr Nevada that you do as I say.”

Both his voice and posture haven’t changed since he first talked to you, but you get an uneasy feeling from him. Thankfully, you’re not the only ones in this hallway, so you don’t expect him to do something drastic.

> What will you do?

> Agree to follow him
> Demand an explanation
> Refuse and resist
> (Write-In)

>>5765688
nice art

>>5765820
Thanks!

>>5765688
> Demand an explanation

This is the first time we've met him, and Tristan looks way too stressed out to be healthy. If he can't tell us "where" and "why", then ask "what" and "how". I mean, he has to have a reason more detailed than "help Dr. Nevada" to ask for our assistance, right?

>>5765688
>Demand an explanation

Update taking a bit longer, should be out tomorrow.

>>5765688
>>5766379
>>5766586

[1/3]

> Demand an explanation

“Do as you say? What are you talking about?”

You expect an explanation, or at least something along the lines of “You’ll find out soon enough”. What you didn’t expect, however, is Tristan to tilt his head away from you, clutch his forehead and let out an overly dramatic sigh.

https://youtu.be/ka-acqCdLIM

“Aahh, another spiteful prediction has become the ground truth of my existence. You may pretend this encounter never happened, and carry on with your bright-eyed youth. I’m sure Dr Nevada will understand if I ended up not dragging you along in my duties. This would be the wisest action for both of us.
“H-Hold on, I never said I wouldn’t go. I just want to know what exactly you’re talking about.”

His response would come across as insultingly sarcastic and passive-aggressive if it was said by anyone else, but his vacant eyes don’t look like he could muster up any anger, passive or otherwise. Instead of answering you directly, he moves in a circle and mutters something under his breath. He then stops to face you and clears his throat.

“The mistress - Dr Nevada - was to supervise and resolve several ongoing issues for clients. With her recent arrest, multiple of them have been left unattended.”
“And you want me to help?”
“Far from it. But the mistress insisted on bringing you along to at least one of them.”
“Uhm, you said ‘arrest’... How much do you know about that?” You check both ends of the hallway to see if there’s anyone within earshot.
“I know she went to get arrested. That is the thankfully limited extent of my knowledge on the matter.”
“Did she not tell you anything else?”
“In a manner of speaking. I wouldn’t ask her about personal matters.”
“Personal matters? Your superior is getting arrested, that sounds plenty personal to me! You didn’t ask even a single follow-up question?” He sighs.
“I’ve long come to the realization that knowledge is a curse, or at least part of my curse. To remain unaware of that which doesn’t need to be known is my one lone island in a vast sea of sorrow.”

This guy is supposed to be Dr Nevada’s one and only retainer? You expected some eccentricity when she said he’d be weird, but this is way out of left field. His sunken eyes seem to have a hard time staying fixed on you and keep drifting off into the distance.

“Are you alright? You look kind of tired.”
“Quite. Tired of life.”
“...I… don’t know how to respond to that. I-I can try to help with work, but I’m probably not qualified with that sort of stuff.”
“Don’t feel inadequate. No one is qualified to help me.”

His naturally tall frame shrivels with another heavy sigh. You’ve never been particularly great at dealing with people who vehemently stay down in the dumps, and he seems dead set on staying there.

>>5767490

[2/3]

“Before you say anything, I don’t want to hear anything about putting him out of his misery.”
“Correction: The Tau Enkidu series is not intended for mercy killings.”
“Look, uh, Tristan. Why don’t we… talk about Dr Nevada’s tasks for you while we get some breakfast? I was just about to head out.”
“I think you’ll find I’m greatly lacking in appetite. But I’d hate to burden you with the pangs of hunger when already burdened with my presence.”
“...Let’s just go.”

It’s a short trip to the cafeteria, but Tristan has managed to make it a long one by dragging his feet. After loading up on a few plates of food, you approach the small table in a corner of the mess hall Tristan has chosen to eat at. While your tray is filled with fruits, pastry, cold cuts, potatoes and more, he settled with… bread and water.

“Is that… enough for you?”
“My cursed self is just enough for water and bread.”

Is this something you should be concerned with? Once more you find yourself wishing Dr Nevada was here, if only to give you some frame of reference. Still, he’s been her retainer for a while, so this behavior should be normal for him, right? At least, that’s how you’re justifying your decision to overlook this for now.

“Soooo, about those jobs you mentioned… What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“That is for you to decide.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“There are three open requests that can and should be fulfilled without the mistress’s intervention. You will declare one to be our upcoming mission.”
“...Are you sure I should be deciding over something like that?”
“They are all of equal priority. The choice is arbitrary, much like my-”
“I mean, I don’t really know much about this stuff you do. You probably have a better idea on which one to address first, right?”

For the first time, Tristan shows a sliver of an emotion other than apathy and melancholy. His eyebrows curl for a moment, seemingly questioning your statement. However, it disappears as fast as it appeared and makes way for another exhausted expression.

“I would never trust myself with these decisions. Whoever the next client is, they will be spared great misfortune if someone besides my cursed soul were to pick them.”
“Uh… Got it. So can you tell me what those requests are?”

He lays out the different jobs he prepared in a small notebook. Each one is contained on a single page of cliff notes and names, but the writing is precise and thorough.

>>5767492

>> “Issue MNTC4-15571 | System repair of leyline probing node”
> A probe near the west coast of South America has been offline for about 2 months. Now that all the paperwork has been greenlit, we can finally check it out, repair possible damages and reboot the system.
> Since the probe location is located in a mountain range two hours away from the nearest megalith, an accompanying strike team is a must. There aren’t any known enemy factions, but you’ll definitely run into feral monsters that may or may not be hostile.

>> “Re: Re: Orgonomy Workshop”
> A Hivemind arcology south of Limur that has been a long-standing trade partner has requested a workshop in the fundamentals in Orgonomy - for defensive purposes, apparently. Dr Nevada was scheduled to attend in 2 days, but now they are looking for a substitute.
> The Riemann arcology is considered trustworthy, but a minimal security force will be required regardless. You won’t be of much help when it comes to teaching Orgonomy, but Tristan insisted that he can do it on his own.

>> “URGENT: need golems now!!!”
> A baron of House Daedal desperately needs two dozen golems as a temporary workforce in the geothermal plants of Limur due to a “worker shortage” of fire elementals. This is normally well below the paygrade of a researcher in theoretical orgonomy, but the baron has a lot of sway, is entitled to the perks of the premium subscription of Daedal Care and insists on “the best of the best”.

“They all sound pretty time-sensitive. Are you asking me to decide which two to, well, abandon?”
“Don’t be absurd. I’d dread to wish that crushing responsibility on even the most heinous of middle managers. As oppressive as it might be to my skittish soul, we do have a number of individuals in our wing as well. The tasks deserted by us shall be inherited by the employees of the second string.”
“...Okay, good to know.”

> Choose a task!

> “Issue MNTC4-15571 | System repair of leyline probing node”
> “Re: Re: Orgonomy Workshop”
> “URGENT: need golems now!!!”

>>5767493

> “Re: Re: Orgonomy Workshop”

Sergey is neither a strike team member nor a registered pactmaker, so the only thing he could do for the node repair job without getting into legal trouble or owing some bigwig a favor is to help with the repairs - and I'm pretty sure Sergey isn't qualified enough to repair advanced magitech.
Pretty sure we don't know how to create/summon golems, either.

So... yeah. I know Tristan might have clinical depression or whatever (proud survivor of depression IRL), but... this is already the best choice we can make, given the circumstances.

Stay low, don't do anything rash before the inter-house legal shitshow dies down, and try to network with others. Plus, given we'll be working with the Hivemind (aka. high-tech humans outside Arcadia's jurisdiction), Tau-Enk might even get a chance to be summoned without Arcadia knowing too much about it. The fact that we might see more about the Hivemind with our own eyes and Tau-Enk might give us some more "unique" insight on human life and culture would be another cherry on top.

... also, Dr. Nevada did say something about covering up our pactmate as a Hivemind prototype in the last thread, right?

>>5767493
> “Re: Re: Orgonomy Workshop”

Work has gotten hectic lately with two deadlines approaching - updates will be a bit slower for a while. I might also try experimenting with smaller updates, who knows.

>>5767493
>>5767564
>>5767631

[1/1]

> “Re: Re: Orgonomy Workshop”
“Well I don’t think I’ll be much help at the class, but the orgonomy workshop sounds interesting. I’d love to see what the Hivemind is like.”

Tristan stares off into the distance and lets out yet another exaggerated sigh.

“I should have known it would come to this. Very well, I shall accept my fate.”
“Oh, do you not like it? I’d be fine with doing something el-”
“No, no, I’ve already resigned myself to this fate. Trying to escape it would only come back to haunt me threefold.”
“Uh… If you think so.”

Your fellow retainer gives you a rough outline of the job: Just two days from now, Tristan will hold a seminar to a group of engineers and scientists on Orgonomy. While the Hivemind universally shuns the use of Orgone, they apparently want to develop better methods to fend off psychic attacks from enemies and storms alike. You’ll check in the day before, hold the seminar and leave before the end of the second one. Similar to the last time you’ve been outside a megalith, a strike commander will accompany you, in case something happens. It’s not uncommon for Arcadian nobles to visit arcologies for business trips and trade information, but giving lessons in person is rare. His brief summation ends about the same time he choked down his last slice of dry bread.

“An unfortunate trip throughout, but such is the hand I’ve been dealt. If you have questions regarding the mission, now would be the time to ask them.”

> Ask any questions you might have!

> Is there any way I could help?
> Is there time to go sightseeing?
> Who’s going to accompany us?
> What exactly could go wrong?
> Actually, I’m good.
> (Write-In)

>>5769375
If we can only ask one question:
> Who’s going to accompany us?
because that is the only option relevant to the plot.


If we can ask multiple:
> Is there any way I could help?
then
> Is there time to go sightseeing?
then
> Who’s going to accompany us?

"What exactly could go wrong" is something one should never ask - because even if Finagle's law (aka creators intentionally make things go wrong whenever any character asked that question) is not enacted, there's no such thing as an "exact" thing to go wrong - everything that might go wrong will go wrong sooner or later as per both Murphy's law and statistics. The only thing we can do is to triple-check everything beforehand and see if there's any glaring flaws that we might have missed, and try to optimize as much as possible so that when things do go wrong the damage is mitigated.

>>5769375
>>5770108

[1/2]

“Are you sure there isn’t some way I can help? Just tagging along feels a bit weird.”
“Your blissful ignorance of the inner workings of Orgonomy prevents you from contributing to the seminar in any meaningful fashion. The mistress simply asked me to have you accompany me, so that is all that will be required from you. If you really insist, you could give me a back massage after the lecture, to alleviate my suffering.”
“Uhh… I’ll keep that in mind. If that’s the case, am I free to look around in the arcology? I’d love to find out what this place is like.”
“You aren’t supposed to stray too far from our guard, and he’ll be stationed at the lecture hall. But I have the feeling this won’t concern you. This particular Hivemind colony isn’t opposed to Arcadian presence, but there have been tales of law enforcement turning a blind eye to the criminal element when it comes to outsiders.”
“Aren’t they supposed to be allies?” He just gives a slow shrug and looks at the floor.
“I doubt the relationship between the two goes much deeper beyond a purely economic level. I can’t blame them for not wanting to sacrifice their own for someone who might be tomorrow’s enemy.”
“I guess that’s true... Anyway, speaking of the guard… Do you know who’s supposed to accompany us?”
“I didn’t care to find out. It’s a strike commander, that much is certain - but I don’t think anyone made a request, so the branch will be the one to decide.”
“Branch?”
“House Daedal’s paramilitary branch. Is all of this new to you?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I originally come from a tributary town, and have never been in a megalith until just a few days now.”

>>5770953

[2/2]

Tristan raises his eyebrow for the second time since you’ve met him. Having worked under her for so long, he probably knows that Dr Nevada spontaneously making you her new retainer is very much out of character for her, but if he does have questions, he doesn’t seem to voice them.

“Perhaps you are ill-fated to have landed here, then. The mistress shows little interest in matters outside the sphere of her research.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right. But I try to make the most of it, you know?”
“I envy your outlook. But there’s a strong possibility you’ll be unshackled from your duties, so you may not have to adapt after all.”
“What do you… Are you talking about the arrest?” You bring down your voice a little - there’s no one nearby, but you can’t be too careful.
“Depending on the verdict, a noble could have their privileges revoked - worst case, even their title.”
“Is that what you think will happen?”
“I’ve learned to not attempt to read the murky waters of the future. With that in mind, I tend to expect the worst in all things - nothing against the mistress.”
“And has something like this happened before?”
“The mistress being under investigation? A few times, but not much more than the average noble, if I had to make an estimate.”
“Oh, really? I thought this would be a really big deal, that’s a relief to hear. Thanks for the info, Tris- uh, Mr Gant? What should I call you?”
“You may address me however you wish. It’s the least I can do to make my presence slightly more bearable.”

Bookending his odd self-demeaning debrief, he gives you some final details for tomorrow’s trip before excusing himself and wandering off. Is this how he always has been? Or is this behavior from some recent event? You’d have to ask Dr Nevada once all this is over.

> Roll 1d100 for dream[\i]

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>5770956
One, away.

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>5770956

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5770956

>>5770956
>>5771013
>>5771198
>>5771435

[1/4]

> Rolled 82 (1d100)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxG2yTKWnaQ

You stood in a tall room, mostly empty, save for some desks with office supplies like pens and folders. That, and the big slab in the center, on which a skeleton of a person rested. At least, you thought it was human. Rather than a single connected set, the individual bones were all laid out, as if disassembled… or perhaps ready to be assembled? You by no means have a medical education to confirm this, but some of the bones here either were in the wrong place, or didn’t belong. If there was writing on the slab to identify the individual pieces, you couldn’t remember what it looks like. Looking closer, you spotted something that definitely didn’t belong - a heart, or something similar to it. It didn’t bleed, and it was as big as your head, but it sure did look like one. Also, it was clearly beating. Somehow, the massive organ that continued to pulse with some bizarre form of life didn’t bother you, not even when you picked it up. Neither the tingling in your fingers nor the intrusive odor made you flinch as you brought it closer to your face… and took a bite. At the time it seemed perfectly normal to you, so you just put the heart back on the slab and wiped what stains may or may not have been left behind on your face. The last thing you remember before everything went dark is you beginning to pick up the hundreds of bones laid in front of you, one by one.

—

>>5772048

[2/4]

The following day starts early, as instructed by Tristan. You meet him at the Orgonomy Research Wing, where he then guides you to a part of the campus you’ve only visited briefly. After no less than 10 minutes of walking, you finally arrive at Daedal’s own strike command center, as the large plaque above the double-wide entrance states.

Moving past the doors, you spot the same uniform Gwynn always wore more often than you did anywhere else, barring the outpost from back then. Two human-looking guards stand at attention as you enter, and more - many with visible monstrous features - can be seen either talking among themselves, hurrying from one door to the other or just trying not to look like they’re loitering. Tristan steps up to a counter, where a pixie’s beaming smile is in fierce competition with his lifeless frown.

{We hail from the ORW, quest number… E120335. And we await the unfortunate soul tasked with guarding mine.}

If that last statement struck the diminutive and fiery-haired (not literally, you haven’t come across something like that yet) monster as odd, she sure didn’t show it. Instead, she starts thumbing through a stack of papers almost as tall as she is.

{Yes, here it is… Lady Nevada- ah, no, a substitute, and an assistant. Greetings! Your escort should be here…}

She looks over to a corner where a couple of uniformed humans and monsters are gathered. From the look of her face, she doesn’t like what she sees, and clicks her tongue.

{Oh dear, this is embarrassing… It seems our normally fastidious strike force is slightly out of form today. One moment, if you would…}

She adjusts her glasses and flies off, but not before yelling something about being late and obligations - it seems she’s taking this not so well, while Tristan barely bats an eye while looking at the intricate patterns weaved into the ceiling. Patterns that you also grow to appreciate, as several minutes with the counter being unmanned pass. It’s only after you sufficiently feel awkward that the pixie returns at top speed, slightly out of breath.

{So sorry- Her Supremacy have mercy… Please forgive his tardiness! I assure you, there will absolutely be repercussions for his behavior.}
{Don’t apologize. This is only another page in my painfully long anthology of misfortune.}
{Hey! You guys the eggheads I’m supposed to babysit?}

>>5772049

[3/4]

The sudden yell shakes even Tristan out of his sulking lull. The person approaching you and currently being glared at by the pixie definitely… stands out. You’ve seen a few soldiers here wearing casual clothes instead of a uniform, but this man’s choices in fashion are probably the most outlandish. Where the full-body suit of the Daedal military is covered in solid patches of armor, his loose white shirt and blue vest offer little protection. His wide pants end just below his knees, and beyond that, there’s… nothing. His bare feet produce soft slaps against the smooth wooden floor, rather than the forceful stomps of the heavy duty boots his peers wear. Some slight stubble and a massive mane of brown hair suggests that he either pays very much or very little attention to his appearance, and the shape of his eyes suggest an origin you’re unfamiliar with. His entire appearance is so striking that you might be forgiven for almost missing the enormous scar covering the left half of his face - a direct result of his careless demeanor, perhaps? In any case, the small receptionist is not thrilled to see him casually stroll towards you.

{Language! And the least you could do is apologize for your in- your delay!}
{He said not to apologize, right? It’s fine, you’re just overreacting, Giiwe.} He rests his arm against the counter, barely looking at you.
{D-don’t get smarmy with me! I still outrank you, so you better- hey, I’m not done!}

Seemingly bored with this conversation, the soldier turns to Tristan.

{I think I’ve seen you before. We’re paying the Hivemind a visit, right? Weren’t you supposed to be a woman?}
{I’m sorry to disappoint - it is par for the course with my business. I’ve been chosen as a substitute, as the mistress is unable to attend.}
{Eh, I’ll live. He your plus-one?} He points at you without looking towards your direction.
{Correct. I hope this won’t be too much for you to bear.}
{Hahah, it’s no skin off my nose.} He’s scratching the scarred half of his face. Is this his idea of a joke?
{Seriously, Gregor, you’re-}

The pixie is cut off by the man who seems to go by the name of Gregor as he slings his arms over Tristan and your shoulders and directs you towards the exit. You can hear her fuming, but you’re already being dragged away from her.

>>5772056

[4/4]

{Let’s just get going, right? You know the way, eyebags?}
{Wait! There is a protocol, you know! You can’t leave before-} Flabbergasted, the monster makes one last stand before being cut off once more.
{Sorry, but we’re kinda running short on time already! Do it for me, would ya?}

Perhaps due to her small size, you quickly are moved out of earshot, so you can’t make out what she might be yelling after him - you doubt it’s very friendly, though. It’s only after you step outside the building that he releases you from his grip. While Tristan seems unconcerned of this conduct, you can’t help but wonder.

{Uh, Sir Gregor, was it? Is it okay for you to ignore the pixie?}
{Aren’t you a model citizen? It’s fine, I pull this stuff all the time on her. She’s cool with it. Anyway, eyebags, where to? First south gate?}
{Your prediction is wrong, unfortunately. We’re to meet with an agent of Bernoulli at the south dock. We have to put our fates in their hands to make the arduous journey to their home.}
{Don’t get me too excited, you make sitting in a car sound fun.}

Looking over his person one more time, you notice that he seems even less prepared than you do, and you’re just supposed to sit around and watch. It’s obvious he’s a pactmaker of some sort, but even Gwynn was carrying two swords around, right? Speaking of pactmaker, just what kind is he? You don’t see any pointed ears, plant matter or anything else that indicates a merge with a monster - unless you count the scar or his wild hairstyle as a monstrous trait.

{Sir Gregor, don’t you need some gear, even if we’re not expecting hostiles?} He gives you a smug grin, as if he was anticipating just such a question.
{I don’t need any gear. That stuff would only slow me down.}

Whether he’s being loudmouthed or can actually back up his big claims remains to be seen, but he sure seems to exude confidence. Just some ways from the command center is another gondola station, albeit a bit smaller. Nevertheless, a compact but reinforced gondola soon leaves the station, with the three of you on it. Instead of approaching a maypole yet again, this one seems to move away from it, closing in on the border of the megacity. It looks like you’re still a bit away from the outer walls - perhaps there’s some time to talk a little.

> Who do you want to talk to?

> Tristan
> Sir Gregor
> Enkidu
> No one for now

> And what do you want to ask/tell them?

> (Write-In)

>>5772058
> Sir Gregor
> If it's not considered a faux pas, ask what his pact is.

Don't reveal what we are, just tell him we're the newly hired assistant/labrat still going through the ropes.

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107 KB PNG

>>5772058
>>5772091

[1/3]

> If it's not considered a faux pas, ask what his pact is.
{Sir Gregor, do you mind if I ask you a question?}

Whereas Gwynn stood at attention for the entire duration of her mission, your bodyguard is relaxing on a bench as if this was his day off. He doesn’t even bother getting up as he looks your way.

{What’s up?}
{I was wondering… Are you a changeling?}
{What makes you think that?}
{You’re a commander, right? Aren’t all commanders supposed to be changelings? At least, that’s what I heard.}
{More or less. But no, I’m not a commander. Not even a knight, actually.}
{But isn’t your title ‘Sir’?}
{I never said that. I don’t mind being called Sir, though.} He’s giving you a self-satisfied grin.
{...So if you aren’t a changeling, who did you enter a pact with, exactly? Ah, that’s not an inappropriate question, is it?}
{I don’t mind, but haven’t you heard of me before? You been living under a rock or something?}

You look over to Tristan for confirmation, who doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to your conversation and is intently staring into the distance instead. In the meantime, Gregor has positioned himself slightly more upright to face you properly.

{Well… I’m very new here.}
{Sounds like it. Well, I’m a bit of a special case… I don’t have a pactmate as much as I got what I’d consider a pact… tool. I can’t go too much into the specifics - secret Daedal recipe and all - but it doesn’t talk, and our lab coats spent a ton of marks making it. A one of a kind monster for a one of a kind human, I’d say.}
{Made? Like a construct?} While Enkidu certainly talks, the fact that both your pacts were made with manufactured beings gives you a strange sense of comradery.
{Pssh, no way. I got something way better. You don’t get to be the house’s star player by teaming up with a walking pile of bricks, you know. I’d give you a demo, but I can’t use it in megaliths. Got me to sign a contract and everything.}

”Hypothesis: Unable to outperform Pandemonic pactmaker in combat.”
“I’m not planning on testing that, just so you know.”
“Amendment: Unable to outperform trained Pandemonic pactmaker in combat.

You’ve gotten somewhat used to humoring Enkidu’s interjections without interrupting the flow of a conversation by now. Still, something Gregor just mentioned gave you pause, and you want to confirm it.

“Star player? Tristan, is that true?”

>>5773559

[2/3]

The researcher slowly drags his head away from the window, his face an even paler color than before. Is he not taking the trip too well?

“...Right, Gregor has a high reputation, both as a scientific and military asset.”
{Hey, keep it Sidhe, eggheads. I’m not gonna learn a different language just to make sure you guys aren’t passing secrets under my nose.}
{Oh, sorry. But if you’re so important, why are you on a mission like this? Isn’t a commander supposed to accompany us?}
{Uh, change of plan. Schedule got weird, so I had to jump in. Honestly, I’d rather be doing something else, but orders are orders, right? I’m more the outdoorsy type, so just sitting in this tin can of a city is not my idea of fun. I just hope they won’t serve us motor oil and batteries for food, I heard these guys are weird. Trip or whatever your name was, did you read the briefing? Do they actually have beds and food like normal people?}
{Most people of the Hivemind are still flesh and blood, much like us. Panopticum aside, the residents have yet to unshackle themselves from the confines of their carbon-based vessel.}

Gregor shoots Tristan a baffled glance, which he then turns to you, and finally back to Tristan.

{Uh… Cool. Yo, rookie. You said you’re new here? We’re talking defector, or…}
{Defector? No, no! I’m from a tributary town. I’m new to megaliths and the court.}
{Tributary town? Like, a podunk village near the border? Ha! I already like you more than most of the pansy snobs playing soldier. Did you see any good turf wars?}
{Uhm… Not really, thankfully. We were part of the Principality already when I was born. I only saw some bandit attacks, and many psychic storms.}
{Huh? What kind of hippie commune is that? Getting raided by would-be conquerors is the best part of living in the middle of nowhere!}
{Best part? There are lives at stake here!}
{Eh, don’t oversell it. No one actually goes for the human villagers because the place would collapse without them. As for the monsters, well… Let’s just say they usually don’t put anyone important out in the boonies.}

Gregor sounds completely free of concern or judgment, as if he’s talking about the weather. The slight smile on his lips he’s carried around since the station tells you he’s very comfortable with this sort of thing.

{...Does that mean your pactmate was made for this type of combat? It makes you sound like some killing machine.}
{Nothing that badass, we don’t make it a priority to just run at the nearest enemy settlement and steamroll the local monsters. I’m more of a jack-of-all-trades guy, but they usually have me out and about, bumping heads with Gaia… Not so much this time, though. We probably have some dudes punching harder than me, but I’m still running circles around them in a fight.}

>>5773561

[3/3]
{Now I’m curious about your pactmate. Can you summon them, or are you a hybrid?}
{Nah, I can summon them just fine. The nerds call them… hm… well, the name wouldn’t really tell you anything since it’s made up, and usually people don’t get it unless I show it to them. I’ll give you a demo once we have a moment outside, you’re gonna love it.}

You look past the front cone of the gondola to see that you’re approaching the edge of the megalith. For the first time since you got here, at least part of the horizon is not composed of thousands of manmade structures, but a big steppe instead. Similar to New Minsk, the immediate surroundings of the massive walls are desolate and windswept, but off in the distance some patches of vegetation can be spotted. Your visibility seems limited, however, as large patches of some type of mist hide the faraway features of the lands.

{Is this fog? It looks very dry outside.}
{It is dry, and that’s why that’s not fog. Those clouds are sandstorms. The maypoles mess with the local weather after a while. I think they started calling it “wind pollution”. Not as bad as the psychic variety, but still something you don’t wanna get stuck in. Hey sadbrains, we’re getting a real ride for this, right? The stock vans leak something fierce, and this kinda sand gets everywh- Damn dude, are you alright?}

Over the duration of the trip, Tristan’s skin has turned from a slight yellow to a pale white and finally a sickly green - he definitely can’t handle gondola flights. And while his eyes struggle to stay open and the corners of his mouth are lifelessly hanging at low mast, the change in pigmentation is the only reliable indicator that Tristan is not feeling too hot.

{...Temporary… discomfort. This too, shall- Urgh, shall pass, and pales… in comparison to… to how my soul suffers.}
{If you say so. Just… don’t vomit in my direction if it comes to that.}

Tristan just gives a weak nod in response and leans against the window again. Poor guy. Gregor just scoots a bit further away from him, and then gets your attention by giving you a slight nudge.

{Yo. What’s your name, again?}
{I didn’t say it before, but it’s Sergey. Or Ivan, whichever you prefer.}
{Huh. Double name?}
{Well, more like involuntary renaming when I got here.}
{Heh! I guess Sergey’s kinda weird. The mid-tier nobles are really into weird names for their servants, though, so I’m surprised they’d change it to something more basic. Anyway, I just wanted to confirm something. Since you don’t look like a dork and just got here from the boonies, I’m gonna guess you’re not gonna share the classroom with Dr Skysick here, right?}
{Well, no. I’m just supposed to accompany Tristan on this mission-}
{Accompany him? Like, make sure he’s safe?}
{Not exactly… No offense, but isn’t that your job?} His normally boisterous voice lowers to a more subtle volume.

> Roll BO3d100 for this interaction

Rolled 18, 11, 63 = 92 (3d100)

>>5773562

Rolled 51, 85, 1 = 137 (3d100)

>>5773562
Rollin'

Rolled 26, 94, 30 = 150 (3d100)

>>5773562

>>5773562
>>5774206
>>5774216
>>5774305

I intended this to be a single roll from 3 people each, so I'll take the first rolls from each of you:

> 18, 51, 26

I'd like to try something new, so here's a quick rundown.

This check tests your ability in [i]Perception[/i] and [i]Deception[/i]. In addition to rolling, you now get to decide how to spread your dice. You have to assign dice to checks until there are either no dice or slots remaining.

Normally each stat being tested has 1 slot, but since you are excellent in perception, you get an extra slot for this particular stat. The final score will be the sum of all dice assigned to the stat.

To sum up, you can assign 2 of those dice to your perception score, and the remaining one to your deception. There’s no hard DC (so far), so there’s degrees of success, though sometimes you might not have to roll very high to succeed. Also, some checks might be red herrings - not every conversation has to be built on subterfuge.

Here’s an explanation of the stats:

> Perception: How well you can read subtext and context clues out of a conversation. By picking up on small details, you can even spot lies in the best cases.
> Deception: How well you can hide your intentions and not fall for attempts to make you talk. Not necessarily lying, this could just be about not revealing more than you’re comfortable with.

>>5774550
> Perception: 18+26 = 44
> Deception: 51

At least we won't be blabbing about our own pact this way. We do not NEED to know what his pact really is, but if we revealed ours it would be game over for both us and Dr. Nevada.

Hmmm... Gregor's pact is also some sort of one-of-a-kind prototype? Where have I heard of that... I now have a faint suspicion that his pactmate also came from a ruin somewhere and also nearly caused another inter-house shitshow...

Also, just sayin', but if you want to say "three people, each roll a d100", it should be written as "BO3, d100", the extra comma and space allows far less room for misinterpretation.

>>5774751
+1

>>5774550
>>5774751
+1

>>5774550
>>5774751
+1

Sorry for the delay, work and private life has been pretty busy. I should have something tomorrow.

>>5774550
>>5774751
>>5775212
>>5776189
>>5777609

[1/3]

> Perception: 18+26 = 44
> Deception: 51

{I know it’s what I’m here for, sure, but I was wondering if you could do me a solid and look after the guy while I, uh, step away for a bit.}
{Step away?}
{C’mon, the gig’s supposed to be like 10 hours, right? I can’t just sit on my ass babysitting a room of straight-A students! Trust me, I’m just here to keep legal happy. Nothing’s gonna happen. If anything, you probably could walk out too!}
{That seems… What are you even going to do? How long are you planning on leaving?}
{Not much, just uh… 2 hours, or so? Probably more? I’m just gonna stretch my legs, stroll around, maybe hit on a few chicks… Anything beats sitting around in a classroom for half a day. You don’t look like a total wimp, so you can hold your own in a fight, right?}
{Wait, are you expecting me to get in a fight?}
{Just covering our bases here, relax. Like I said, it’s going to be a snooze fest, but I dunno… Maybe some hiver’s trying to sock the teacher for flunking him. You could handle something like this, right?}
{I…sure, that sounds doable, but I’m just worried we’re going to get in trouble. Isn’t there a protocol for this?}
{You’re here to give science lessons. Hardly a life-or-death situation that warrants militaristic rigor.}
{...Is that something you’re familiar with?}
{What, life-or-death situations? Sure! Well, I guess it’s usually life for us and death for them when I’m around, heh.}
{So you’ve killed someone? Monster, and human?}
{Well, duh. Haven’t you?}
{No! I mean, I guess I killed some monsters, but only feral ones.}
{Seriously? Man, you’re really sheltered.}

Gregor seems completely nonchalant about this subject, much to your shock. Before you can reply, however, you are intercepted by a sudden jerk of the cabin. Looking outside, you see that you’ve arrived. Tristan wastes no time stepping off the gondola and taking deep breaths, while you pick up the suitcase he left inside. After a short walk off the platform, you are greeted with the sight of dozens of workers scurrying around large vehicles, containers and machinery.
Whereas the gateway at New Minsk was relatively self-contained and organized, this lot is dotted with different uniforms, iconography and modes of transportation, from simple wheelbarrows to small trucks. While nothing seems nearly as large as the 18-wheelers from the pre-doomsday eras, the largest vehicles still dwarf any walkway you’ve seen within the megalith walls so far. You almost forget about your conversation with Gregor, but you have no intention just leaving this topic hanging. As you head down the stairs, you get his attention again.

>>5779623

[2/3]

{Is killing someone really that normal here, Gregor- or is it Mr, uh…?}
{I mean, probably not if you got some boring city job. But in my experience, if you spend enough time outside the gates, murder’s just a matter of time. Oh, and just Gregor is fine, man.}
{I thought killing humans was a taboo.}
{Eh, it’s not good for anyone, but I’m not going to jump through hoops to avoid it. I mean, I don’t go hunting for blood, and I have enough control to hold back on my attacks, but there’s times where someone breathing is a liability, you know?}
{...Still, these are people with their own lives. Are you really comfortable with just… killing them?} He shrugs.
{Why wouldn’t I? It’s my job. I don’t get deployed to settle court spats, I get sent to invasion attempts. Some loons trying to force their brand of wrong onto a community under our protection, and I get to skin them.}
{So Arcadia is always the one defending itself?} You shoot him a slightly accusatory glance, eagerly awaiting his response. He just chuckles to himself.
{Oh yeah, totally. The Principality would never be so uncouth as to be the aggressor in a conflict - they’re just trying to defend themselves.}
{I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but you… don’t sound very convinced.}

The carefree look on his face is quickly replaced by a serious one.

{Word of advice: Don’t try to be a mind reader unless you want to play politics. Trying to read the intent out of everything is just gonna drive you nuts.}
{Oh, uh, apologies. I didn’t mean to-} By the time he cuts you off, his grin is back.
{No worries, I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, but I know where you’re coming from. You grew up in a cushy neighborhood, and now you think everyone’s a bad person..}
{...That’s-}
{Honestly, I can’t blame you for that. Just don’t go running off your mouth in front of the wrong guy. Not me though, I don’t care. I’m living a comfortable life because I’m doing a great job hurting people, and I’m having a blast.}
{...Are you worried about doing the wrong thing? That the people in charge aren’t good?}
{Good people? Hah! First, I don’t do moral dilemmas. Second - and don’t take this as me thinking about defecting, which is definitely at the bottom of my list - from what I’ve seen, Arcadia is definitely better than the other options. Not even talking about “the blessing of Her Supremacy” here, but I think freeing them from the Order is doing them a favor - and that goes double for Gaia-}
{Ah.. It appears we have arrived at our final destination.}

>>5779625

[3/3]

Tristan interrupts your conversation by pointing out a… person standing across the lot. You couldn’t make a more concrete guess because they don’t look like anyone you’ve seen before - neither man or monster. A construct? A human in full armor? In any case, the armor looks very striking, with many sharp angles and sweeping edges. The only time you would have seen something remotely similar is from parts of your pactmate’s chassis, and even they are clearly very different designs. A face might tell you more, but if they have one, it is hidden by a large, highly reflective visor. That could only be…

{Is that a Hivemind agent? What’s he doing here?} Gregor seems as surprised as you by the presence of this individual
{Didn’t you read the briefing? The Hivemind vowed to grant us safe passage to their gates.}
{Just cause of the sandstorms?}
{No, because the arcology is located less than 100 meters away from the Indian Ocean. Any of our vehicles would hopelessly succumb to the elements.}
{Great, I hate beaches.}

They’re this close from the ocean? That seems extremely dangerous, if not downright impossible. Not that you’ve ever seen it yourself, but you have heard accounts of anything close to the shorelines being completely unlivable. You walk up to Tristan to ask to elaborate, but the Hivemind agent is already close enough to address the three of you.

“Is any of you named Dr… Tristan Gant?” The voice sounds slightly filtered, but certainly belongs to a man.
“As much as it pains me to admit this, that would be me, yes.”
{Yo, you mind using Sidhe?}
{Uh… Sorry, no Sidhe here - English… only, English only.} The broken fragments of a sentence and heavy accent make it clear this man is struggling to understand the official language here - if it wasn’t for Enkidu, you’d be in his boat too.

“The name’s Antlion. I’m assuming these two will accompany you, Dr Gant?”
“Yes, they are. We wish to depart from this realm as swiftly as possible. Please guide us to your ferry.”
“Uh… Sure. It’s just over here.”

He guides you to one of the larger vehicles, distinct from the rest. Whereas most cars here look somewhat similar to the ones you’ve seen in books and ruins, this one is decidedly different, with multiple sets of see through tires and a sturdy, angular design not unlike the one found on his armor. With a gesture of his hand, the rear opens into a ramp leading into the elevated cabin - far more sophisticated than the van you drove earlier, which was more or less a replica of something built before Doomsday. Tristan faces you.

> “Are you ready to leave?”

> “Yes, let’s go”
> “First, I’d like to know…” (Write-In)
> “Can I get a few more minutes to make a call?” (Talk to Enkidu)
> (Write-In)

>>5779626
> “Yes, let’s go”
We've got all we can get (which is to say not much) from Gregor either way, although his persona does crack from time to time revealing a conflicted fellow underneath.
We can probably chat with this Antlion dude and make some more observations to his ferry, but those things can be done while we're inside the ferry.

>>5779626
>>5779864

[1/2]

> “Yes, let’s go”

You all board the vehicle, not wanting to waste any more time. Despite its size, the hum of the motor is barely there, as are the vibrations of the cabin - seems like it’s not just the outside that’s different from the cars you’re used to. Gregor and Antlion exchange some brief words about the planned route, with Tristan acting as a translator. The former shows concern about how well the hull will hold up against sandstorms, but the latter assures him that it’s nothing compared to the coastline - which seems to satisfy Gregor for now. Once past the already closing gates of the massive outer wall, the truck speeds along the bare rock seemingly surrounding the entire perimeter of the megalith. Despite the rugged look, the inside of the cabin is surprisingly sleek, with very few buttons, dials or any other interfaces disrupting the panels flowing along the surfaces. In spite of this, your driver seems very focused on the task.

“Just a 5 hour trip now, Dr Gant. And that’s accounting for the weather.”
“Hm. Since when does the Hivemind use GPS?”
“Anyone can figure out the travel distance between two landmarks on a map. No witchcraft necessary.” Hearing that comment piqued your curiosity.
“Witchcraft? GPS has been around since before Doomsday. What’s so unusual about that?”

Everyone but Gregor throws you an incredulous glance. At least, you assume so - Tristan’s tired face barely shifts, and Antlion’s helmet still covers the entirety of his face.

>>5782390

[2/2]

“What are you talking about?”
“He’s not entirely misguided. GPS used to function without the use of magical components. But that ember of technology was snuffed out… about a hundred years ago.”
“We had GPS and lost it? No way. Where is it now, then?”
“This resides outside my realm of familiarity, but the mistress has far more expertise on this matter. If I recall correctly, it relied on satellite beacons to triangulate coordinates.”
“Let me guess. Fucking dragons destroyed them.”
“That would be the most likely outcome, yes.”

Anlion bangs a fist against the window frame, resulting in a loud clang that even got a slight reaction out of Gregor, who has tuned out of the conversation so far.

“Damn abominations are the worst that could have happened to h- …to Earth. At least Arcadia understands the value of technology. These beasts can do nothing but destroy, until we return to the stone age. If I had a say in this, we’d round up all of these monst-”
“Even without any monsters physically present, I’d be doing the Principality a disservice if I didn’t ask you to stop using sweeping generalizations of monsters.” Tristan sounds surprisingly firm about this.
“Oh for the love of- Yeah, obviously I didn’t mean [b]all[/b] monsters. Just dragons. Those guys can rot.”

Gregor spins in his passenger seat to face Tristan.

{I didn’t get much of that, but was he just shit-talking dragons?}
{Correct.}

He then turns to Antlion, who occasionally peeks to his right to get a read on the wild-haired pactmaker just grinning at him. He then gives him a thumbs up and starts talking in horribly broken English.

“Yes, Gaia is big crap! Dragon suck!”

> Roll 1d100-1d4 for the road ahead
> How will you spend the time during downtime?

> Talk to (Tristan, Gregor, Antlion or Enkidu) about something
> Study Sidhe vocab (skips time)

Rolled (1d00)

>>5782395
> Talk to Antlion
About the Hivemind, how much land it covers, how's the living standard, and what is the Hivemind Government system, etc. Just general knowledge.

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5782401
Something went wrong with the dice?

File: fucked_sign.png (392 KB, 620x620)

392 KB PNG

Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>5782401
... oh goodness gracious did I just kill us all?

>>5782408
Not necessarily, I figured we're doing best of 3 between 3 readers this time.

A 5 is definitely something, though.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>5782395

Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>5782395

>>5782403
>>5782408
>>5782748
>>5782753

A 35 means nothing major... so far. Please roll 1d100-1d4 again.
Also, for the conversation, make a combined check (explained here >>5774550):

3d100 total, one per person. Split across the following:
[i]Perception[/i] (-10 due to the full armor, 2 slots)
[i]Etiquette[/i] (-5 due to a different faction, 1 slot)
[i]Science[/i] (1 slot)

> Perception: How well you can read subtext and context clues out of a conversation. By picking up on small details, you can even spot lies in the best cases.
> Etiquette: How well you can navigate through various rules of conduct and avoid faux pas. A high result may placate ruthless mob bosses and fickle royalty alike.
> Science: How well you understand a scientific topic, either letting you adapt quickly or apply it. It either shows that you happen to know your stuff, or you can grasp it fast enough for no one to notice.

Note that you have more slots than dice - that means you can leave one skill empty, automatically failing in that regard. That doesn't have to mean something bad will happen, just that it's not contributing to the scenario at all.
I know this might seem a bit odd, but I'm hoping the pacing will be a bit better if we get the rolls out of the way first.

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>5783213

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>5783213

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>5783213
Now for the skill check

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>5783213
for the 1d100-1d4

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>5783213
1d4

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5783213
3d100

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>5783213

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>5783213
for the encounters

Rolled 4 (1d4)

>>5783213
d4

>>5783243
>>5783513
>>5783675

That's a 35, 62 and 97 for the skill check. How do you want to spread the dice?

> Perception
> Etiquette
> Science

>>5783778
> 35 to perception
> 62 to Etiquette
> 97 to science

Our job as of now isn't really about extracting information from Antlion, but basic etiquette is important, and given we're presented as Tristan's assistant we should present ourselves as somewhat knowledgeable. Plus, we DO know a thing or two about old world tech so it shouldn't be too hard.

>>5783213
Perception: 97
Etiquette: 35
Science: 62

We can always use the "oh sorry came from a tributary town me stupid" excuse on failings of etiquette and science. We're good at perception so let's make it count.

>>5783960
Support

>>5784044
+1

>>5783213
>>5784044
+1

>>5782395
>>5784044
>>5784419
>>5784449
>>5785150

[1/4]

> Talk to Antlion about Hivemind society

Perception: 97
Etiquette: 35
Science: 62

Despite the bumpy ride, the large wheels easily tear through the dunes. Your driver seems to stick to some semblance of a path, but it’s most likely the strong winds that keep a permanent trail from forming. With Gregor relaxing on the passenger’s seat and the Hivemind agent focused on steering against the shifting sands, there is little chatter during the first chunk of the trip. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually does get the better of you and you can’t help but break the silence.

“Mr, uh, Antlion, was it?”
“Just Antlion. Codename, in case it wasn’t obvious.”
“Ok, then… Mind if I ask you some questions about the Hivemind?”

He takes a glance over his shoulder at you, followed by a swivel to Tristan’s side. You can practically feel the accusatory eyes piercing through the reflective visor as Tristan just sighs.

“I don’t remember an interrogation mentioned in the briefing.”
“If you think this is an inquisition, you’re wrong. My colleague is merely pursuing the siren song of anthropology, it seems. I’m sure that even if he were to dangle over the precipice of that which should not be known, he’d still bear no ill will.”
“Huh?” It’s good to know that Antlion seems as perplexed by his prose as you.
“Feel free to ignore him. He’s too uneducated to understand the nuances of Limur-Bernoulli relations.” Ouch. Nice save, Tristan.
“S-sorry, but I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that, I don’t really know much about your society at all, and wanted to know more-”
“Yea, yea, I getcha. Ain’t exactly a tour guide tho, and wouldn’t really know where to begin.”
“Let’s see… For starters, I’m wondering how much land the Hivemind territory covers.”

He lets go of the wheel to swing over to face you, his armored frame looking even more imposing by the low ceiling of the vehicle. Taking a moment to observe your peripheral vision, you see Tristan barely reacting and Gregor… holding up his right arm, rolling down his sleeve with the other? He still looks relaxed, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the driver’s hands.

“You said: no confidential topics.”
”Defensive measures standing by.
“Woah! Hold on, calm down! I didn’t know that was a sensitive issue! You can’t even talk about your borders?”

Before the Hiveminder can respond, a powerful force shakes the cabin. As Antlion immediately grips the steering wheel, you peek outside the windshield - only to see nothing but a gray mist.

“Are we being attacked? What’s going on?”
“Fuck if I know. Can’t see shit, but we’re getting jostled good.”

A glance at Tristan reveals to you that he seems rather serene, but more in the sense that he has accepted his fate. Gregor, on the other hand, is reclining as well, though he’d most likely have a different motive.

>>5786189

[2/4]

{Gregor, what is happening?}
{I warned you about sandstorms, didn’t I? Looks like that thing is actually holding up together - if we’re still standing now, it shouldn’t really get much worse.}
{Perhaps another time, then. Are we stranded, then?} Tristan looks into the murky veil of sand in a way you can only describe as “longing”.
{Not if we take it slow for a while. This place’s pretty flat and we know the heading, so we won’t get lost.}
“English, please?”

You relay the information to your driver, who reluctantly agrees to keep going. Progress is slow, but steady as you move through the storm. After you’ve become accustomed to the occasional jostling from the strong gusts, you decide to ask Tristan about the Hivemind’s territory, and why it seems to be kept secret

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t share this with you. The Hivemind colonies hold no land, really.”
“No land? What’re you on about?” Even the Hiveminder himself seems to take issue with that statement.”
“Well, no land outside of your arcologies. A people fully confined in a fortress of solitude.”
“That doesn’t sound too different from the Principality, really.”
“It might to you, but Arcadia does hold and occupy land outside of megaliths. It’s a closed system, with the exception of our imports.”
“Didn’t you say they live near the shore? How can they grow food there?”
“I know that vertical farms give them great sustenance, but unless all their meat is synthetic, they manage livestock as well. The environment changes from colony to colony, but generally they employ state-of-the-art technology to isolate them from the unforgiving clutches of the outside.”

Antlion chimes in, apparently no longer fully focused on maintaining course.

“We got everything we need in a single arcology. Any goods from other factions are just non-essential items and whatnot.”
“Then why didn’t you say so?”
“...I thought you were asking about the locations of the other arcologies. Which is strictly off-limits.”
“How can you stay in contact with other arcologies if you’re this isolated?”
“We don’t. Each arcology’s doing its own thing - the Hivemind’s a way of life, not an empire like Arcadia or Elysium.”
“Way of life? What would that be?”
“Human excellence. Solidarity. And a fulfilling life, despite the odds.”
“Human? What about monsters?”
“...What about monsters?”
“Well, how do they fit in the Hivemind way of life?”

Antlion tightens his grip on the wheel and pauses to turn his head to Gregor, who continues to pay little attention to your conversation. At first glance it seems like Tristan is just reading a little booklet he’s been handling since the beginning of the ride, but looking closely you can see a pen in his right hand, barely hidden from view.

>>5786192

[3/4]

“Monsters need humans. But we don’t need monsters. The most important part’s keeping the uncorrupted human spirit alive. If monsters threaten that… then we got no place for them.”
“Does that mean you want to get rid of them?” He lets out a laugh, slightly distorted from the helmet encasing him.
“At this point, if the Doomsday Portals were to open back up, everyone’d go back to their homeworld voluntarily.”
“That’s not what I meant, though. Does the Hivemind want to eradicate all monsters?”
“...What is this, some kinda shit-test? If you’re gonna try to entrap me, at least wait until after I’m done driving you around.”
“No, I… Sorry if I’m being too pushy, I’m just curious about these things. I’m not asking these questions for some kind of report to the court, honest.”
“...Well you can tell everyone that we’re not the ones invading homes and enslaving monsters. It’s a nice thought, but I know getting the Earth back to before Doomsday is a pipe dream - that ship has long sailed. At this point, we just wanna be left the hell alone.”

The drive continues, and eventually you even manage to pick some speed back up as the sandstorm starts to clear. While your visibility is still compromised, you can at least see a bit of the road ahead - until Antlion suddenly slams the brakes, halfway knocking Gregor from his reclined position..

{Hey! What gives?}
“Is this the part where we get stranded, perhaps?”
“Scanner’s picking something up.”

He taps on a small square screen on his dashboard, displaying a tight, small cluster of white dots on a black background. The cluster pulses regularly, but is shifting very slowly. If this thing works like you think it does, then there should be… something, straight ahead. Looking up, you think you can barely make out a wide silhouette - or perhaps multiple large ones, it’s difficult to make out. You relay this to Antlion, who becomes very contemplative. At this point, Gregor scans his surroundings.

{Huh, this thing has an ODAR?}
{It’s unlikely to be magitechnology, seeing how this is a Hivemind car. If it’s a monster, then this is your domain, right, Gregor?}
{Oh, sure. I’d recommend just driving around whatever that is, though.}
“I don’t know what you’re discussing, but you better get ready for some sand in your eye. We’re going out there.”
“Out there? Why?”
“To kill, obviously.”

>>5786194

[4/4]

Both of their suggestions took you by surprise. You expected Gregor to be more gung-ho about going on the offensive, and you expected his counterpart to be less gung-ho about… going against whatever that thing is in there.

“Are you sure about that? Gregor says he’d rather drive around… this.” You gesture towards the device displaying the mass of dots.
“What, is he chickening out now? That’s not an option, or at least not a good one. You mentioned a large, wide shape, we’re at the edge of a storm and these dots barely moved. I bet 5 Datas that’s a Gorgon, probably more than one.”
“...And? Sorry, I haven’t heard of these before.”
“Feral monster with the looks of an ox and the size of a truck. They don’t move much, but when they sprint, they can keep up with a car and turn it into scrap. And if that’s not enough, they spew poisonous gas that knocks you out in seconds. They got bad eyesight, but we’re close and big enough, so they might’ve spotted us already. And no, sandstorms don’t bother them, which is why they hunt in them.”
“...And you want to fight them on foot? Why not just drive?”
“ If they saw us, they’re waiting for the car to make a move. If they didn’t, they’ll spot us once we start moving. The Voltaire can handle a lot, but if we get caught by multiple tackles from these guys, we’re sitting ducks. If we leave the car and stay low, we can catch them off-guard. Best case, they get spooked and flee. I’ll need all the help I can get tho, obviously these beasts are still really dangerous.”

{This is getting silly. Translation, Tristan?}
{Codename Antlion here claims the obstruction ahead is a group of Gorgons. He values his car so much, he wants to approach and ambush them on foot instead.}
{Huh, really? Sounds fun, but I hope he’s not banking on me pulling all the weight.}
{Is there something about Gorgons that you’d rather avoid?}
{Not at all! It’s just, this weather isn’t really ideal for my toolset. I work best with mild conditions.}
{Seriously?}
{Look, I don’t make the rules. That’s just how it works. I’ll fight, sure, I just won’t be at 100%. Which is how I want all my clients to remember me, you know?}

He snaps his finger and points at you. Even when backing out from a fight, he still keeps his cocksure smile.

> What do you want to suggest?

> Continue on foot and take out whatever is ahead
> Try to avoid them by car
> (Write-In)

I truncated the encounter rolls a little - not to fudge, but because it was a bit clunky (especially when it comes to rolling modifiers), I hope you don't mind.

Tristan is a difficult character to write. I have to rewrite almost all of his lines.

>>5786198
> Continue on foot and take out whatever is ahead
If the gorgons hit our car/ferry/whatever we'd all be stranded in the sandstorm either way.

No worries! It's a fun read.

>>5786195
>>5786243

> Continue on foot and take out whatever is ahead

“I think… leaving the car would probably be best. If it gets totaled, we’re out in the open either way.”
“Exactly. Dr Gant, you should get out too. If the monsters do go after the vehicle with just you in it, we’d have to scrape you off the walls.”
“A… rather vivid way to go. Are you speaking from experience?”
“Unfortunately, yep. Move a little?”

He gestures at you to move aside, then reaches over you to push against a panel along your side of the wall. The panel slides aside and a massive piece of engineering drops down, suspended by a sturdy harness. There’s barely enough room for him to hoist up the enormous weapon, but he manages - at least, it sure looks like a weapon. The entire construction is more or less a massive cylinder held up by Antlion using two handles on one end of it. The other side - the one that will most likely be pointed at the Gorgons - sticks out at a meter, minimum. From one end to the other, it might reach your shoulders. Gregor seems interested.

“Everyone, grab your gear and get ready. You there, tell your friend we’re heading out.”
“You… you wouldn’t happen to have more guns here, would you?”
“Nothing that would really bother a Gorgon. Distract, maybe, but it certainly won’t stop a charging beast from skewering you.”
{So we’re doing this? Alright, I guess. Gant isn’t going to fight, is he?}
{Oh no, he said he shouldn’t stay in the car. Too dangerous. He will stay back, and wait for his signal.}
{Yeah, that makes sense. What about you, though? I can understand if you wanna see some action, but it could get pretty serious.}

> What do you tell Gregor?

> “I think I can help!” (Join them in the fight without summoning your pactmate and use less conspicuous abilities)
> “I’ll keep an eye out on Tristan.” (Stay back, only engaging if a straggler were to come after you)
> “I’ll do my best to stay out of the way.” (Slip away and join the fight riding Enkidu, hiding your identity)
> (Write-In)

>>5786592
> “I’ll keep an eye out on Tristan.” (Stay back, only engaging if a straggler were to come after you)

Keep the "oh sorry me country bumpkin" facade, don't blow our cover yet.

>>5786592
> “I think I can help!” (Join them in the fight without summoning your pactmate and use less conspicuous abilities)

Update might not arrive in a while, so there's enough time to break the tie.
I can get some writing done between work, but I really want to add an illustration of Gregor's pactmate next update and I won't have access to my tablet until Thursday evening.

>>5788992
No worries - hell, you still being here and updating in spite of the originality of your worldbuilding and the relative lack of followers is already heartwarming enough.

Asking for a tiebreaker - if it remains till later today, I'll roll for it.

>>5786592
> “I’ll keep an eye out on Tristan.” (Stay back, only engaging if a straggler were to come after you)
... and see if there are any inconspicuous abilities we can use.

Update tomorrow - lots of work this week.

>>5786592
>>5786618
>>5788879
>>5791565

> “I’ll keep an eye out on Tristan.”
{I will keep an eye out on Tristan. It will be safer if we stay close. I can’t fight well, but I can defend myself a little.} Gregor nods.

Before Antlion opens the hatch in the rear, he asks for some coordination between the two combatants. When Tristan relays to him that your bodyguard specializes in crowd control and areas of denial, he chuckles slightly.

“Sounds like we got a chance of making it thru this.”

With the rear now open, the gust forces dry air mixed with grains of sand into the interior. With your destination being downwind, the exit is aligned perfectly with the storm, but with the alternative being downwind of a monster that spews poisonous gas, it’s not so bad. Before Gregor leaves, Tristan passes on what little information Antlion gave the two of you about the beasts.

{Gorgons are herbivores, but extremely territorial. They can’t see very far and will react intensely to any large movements they can perceive. Apparently getting caught below one is a death sentence, but I suppose that won’t apply to you.}
{Damn straight it doesn’t.}
{They also have thick fur and thick hides, so they should be fairly resistant to shallow cuts and bites - an unfortunate match. Hopefully you’ve encountered one before?}
{Doesn’t sound like any Gorgons I’ve run into, but I’ll figure something out. Everything runs out of blood eventually. Tell our tin man he can just focus on his own thing and look for the glowy spots, and we should be fine.}
{You said the sandstorm would hinder your nodes. Are you really sure?}
{Just sit back and worry about yourself. I wouldn’t be the ace player if some dust bothered me.}

“Instruction: Keep close eye on target Gregor. Aptitude assessment highly requested”
“You’re telling me. He better not be all talk, or we’re screwed.”
“System and weapons standing by at full capacity. Survival guaranteed.”
“Aside from the massive desert, and the fact that we expose ourselves as pactmates. I’d rather play the part of a bystander, if you don’t mind.”

The self-proclaimed ace player gives your colleague a firm smack on his shoulder blade, almost knocking the anemic scientist over. Moving past you, he gestures at you to watch him.

{Told ya you’d get a demo. Shame about the storm, hope you don’t miss it.}

With all of you outside, Tristan and you get some time to sneak away from the car and towards a dune. As you move, you never take your eyes off the looming shadow ahead, worried it could at any moment spring to life. Once in position, Gregor gives you a thumbs up and rolls up his sleeves. Whereas Antlion slung his bulky weapon on his back and lowered his posture to slowly approach, his counterpart makes no such effort - he’s not making an effort to move, either. Is he waiting for something? Summoning his monster? Antlion turns around to check on him and-

“Holy sh-!”

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>>5794973

[2/5]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBWWumC4XBc

Out of seemingly nowhere, an ever growing amorphous, dark burst of… something comes swirling around Gregor. Smoke? Locust? Some chemical? Whatever it is, Antlion didn’t expect it either as you can barely see him catch himself falling over. At this point, Gregor is entirely obscured by the shifting mass, which slowly starts expressing new colors: hints of violet, blue, but mostly turquoise.

“Uh, Tristan? Do you mind explaining to me what he’s doing?”
“Gregor just summoned his pactmate - well, tool, in his words.”
“I gathered that, but what is that?”

As quickly as it formed, the colorful cloud disperses over a wide radius, and it is only then that you can tell that it’s comprised of hundreds- no, thousands of tiny wings smaller than your palm. Butterflies? That was your first thought, but before Enkidu and you can chuckle at the idea of Daedal’s “ace player” being bound to a swarm of butterflies, it disperses far enough that you can make out what exactly is zipping past you in all directions.

While what you can see of the wings certainly reminds you of an ordinary butterfly, the rest of the creature is anything but. A large head that is mostly a pair of big, pale eyes, a slim, sleek body that is still far too thick to belong to an insect and an unusual looking… tail? That rear section of a bug? They stop spreading a short distance before you, but you are close enough that you can notice some of them landing on the ground, rocks, patches of grass. But they don’t touch the surface with dainty sticks, they clutch it with just two pairs of firm legs with oversized feet. If you had to compare it to something… It’s like an odd looking skink, crossed with a butterfly? You notice the activity of the creatures pick up as they collectively move towards their target - slow at first, but quickly picking up speed. You notice Tristan fidget for the first time, looking slightly worried.

“What is he doing, dispersing his nodes like that? He’s going to tire himself out before the fight starts.”
“Where’s Gregor? Did he turn into these things?”
“Well, I couldn’t tell you, really. All of the research papers surrounding the monster that resides near his soul are highly classified.”
“Of course they are. But at least tell me what you do know, please?”

After catching his bearing, Antlion seems mostly undisturbed by the recent event and has moved a good bit closer by the time the tiny monsters became too small to see.

>>5794975

[3/5]

“...I do know the official name of the nodes is {pixie drakes}. As you may know, they went extinct during Earth’s middle ages, but through measures beyond my comprehension, the Biotech division managed to revive a small batch from crystallized remains.”
“How come there’s so many? I thought you could only enter a pact with a single monster. Are these clones?”
“Hm, I suppose you could see them as clones, given the methodology they might have employed… But as I’ve established, the {pixie drakes} are just the nodes. In his case, the pactmate is the swarm. Can you tell the Hiveminder to hurry up? The swarm might have snuck up without provoking the Gorgons, but his orgone field must stick out like a rusty nail like this.”
“Are you worried?” Tristan seems a bit flustered by your sudden pivot in questioning.
“Wha- I don’t doubt Gregor won’t walk away victorious. What I am worried about is the devastation these beasts can bring about before th-”

BOOM.

Your colleague is immediately cut off by a high-pitched bang announced only by a slight green flash, seen only milliseconds before the sudden noise hit you. Antlion is moving from a prone to a kneeling position, enormous gun in hand, which emits slowly fading lights of the same shade of green as before. Though still hard to make out, the rough shapes hidden in the veil of the sand - where Antlion was pointing at - are shifting. Gorgons or not, he has their attention now.

Just moments after the shot rang out, bursts of weak teal flashes pierce through the sandy plumes, covering an area easily five meters across. Unlike the last burst of light, however, they create no sound, at least none that matches the droning howl of the wind - or the pained moos suddenly hanging in the air. The majority of the flashes congregate towards the center, and at the edge of your vision, you can barely make out wisps of black and teal form into a more and more dense cloud - until a person jumps out of it, with enough momentum to slide towards the Hiveminder. The bright blue shirt and long, voluminous hair make it clear that Gregor just retreated from his ambush.

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>>5794976

[4/5]

It’s hard to see the urgency of the situation as he’s waving towards Antlion, but that changes as he spins around and enters a low stance. Not a moment too soon, as the howling of the wind gives way for a low rumble, and the murky shapes in the distance solidify into three distinct swollen beasts, peppered with streaks of teal swirling around them. If these are the Gorgons Antlion mentioned, you can see what he was talking about. While they possess freakish proportions, they definitely resemble a bovine - one covered in dense muscle and dark brown, matted fur. Their build is large and intimidating - possibly bigger than that freaky looking beast you saw in the ruins - and even in full sprint, their heads are tilted straight at the ground, hiding everything of their head but large, blunt horns directly pointed towards their target.
You barely have enough time to observe them before they converge on Gregor and barrel at him in a staggered pattern. The first one to reach him makes direct contact - but as the massive bull rides out the momentum of the charge, the wisps of pixie drakes bunch up around their pactmate and lift him over the beast. He barely touches the ground again as the second one is just meters within his range, but he immediately takes advantage of the wobbling sprint of this one. He rolls to the side, the distance covered considerably lengthened by the nearby swarm of buzzing mini-monsters, and narrowly avoids being trampled. You can’t help but be impressed.

“Woah. I can see why he’s so renowned.” You glance over to Tristan, who can’t quite shake his furrowed brows.
“He’s far too deep - he must have noticed the gas by now, right?”
“The what?”
“The poison gas! It’s been accumulating around the Gorgons.”

>>5794977

[5/5]

Looking at their feet, you can make out a mustard yellow mist covering the ground, barely visible against the paler sand. It’s thin for the most part, but it does seem to be more concentrated near the first Gorgon, which slowed down to shake off the pixie drakes tracing along its body. So far it only seems to go up to his ankles, but just how poisonous is this stuff?
Before Gregor can reposition, the third Gorgon, which has taken a wide berth to avoid its brethren, comes charging in at full speed. Maybe it’s the faster movement, maybe it’s the gas already affecting his reactions, but this time your bodyguard can’t move quite fast enough and gets nicked by the careening mass of muscle, sending him flying through the air and knocking him on the ground, right in the middle of the three beasts.

While he’s still propping himself up, it’s clear that the barrage of attacks got him good. Antlion is already in position to make his move, on his feet and preparing something, but it looks like Gregor wasn’t even that third Gorgon’s target as it’s continuing its charge straight at the Hiveminder - whatever he did, it sure ticked off that monster.

> Status Report

Sergey: 100%
Tristan: 100%
Antlion: 100%
Gregor: 50%
Gorgon 1: 60%
Gorgon 2: 93%
Gorgon 3: 73%

> Should you step in?

> No, stay put.
> Get closer and use Intimidating Gaze to draw the attention of one of the Gorgons.
> Try to use Guardian’s Bolt to injure and distract one of the Gorgons without anyone noticing. (Pooled Test)
> Consult Enkidu and wait just a bit longer. (Roll to determine after who to act)
> (Write-In)

>>5794973
>“Instruction: Keep close eye on target Gregor. Aptitude assessment highly requested”
>“You’re telling me. He better not be all talk, or we’re screwed.”
>“System and weapons standing by at full capacity. Survival guaranteed.”
>“Aside from the massive desert, and the fact that we expose ourselves as pactmates. I’d rather play the part of a bystander, if you don’t mind.”

This section was obviously supposed to be italicized, I just missed it. Knew I was gonna miss something.

>>5794979
If it's inconspicuous enough:
> Get closer and use Intimidating Gaze to draw the attention of one of the Gorgons.

>>5795106
Using Intimidating Gaze isn't that noticeable by itself, but at the very least, Tristan would see you get closer.