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Thread: [M] Galactic Empires II

  1. #101
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
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    THE WAY IS OPENING. THEY WILL COME FOR YOU NOW.

    “The gate…” Sayori looked sharply at Ella. “Is this news to you too?”

    Until now her concerns had remained bounded by the ferrocarbide hull of the Elcano, with survival the primary goal and escape now a tantalising second. The transfigured bridge crew had made no mention of the Berserkers reactivating the Collector Gate since the explorer fleet had appeared, and so she had simply assumed that they were either uninterested or incapable of doing so. Now though…

    Cronos could be blowing smoke to get them to go along with its plan, that was true...but what if the Berserkers did eventually overrun the Elcano? What if they absorbed Julian’s knowledge, and took control of the vacuum particle batteries that could be used to charge up the Gate…?

    But before she could take the line of thought any further, Miranda stepped forward, hand on sword.

    And everything went to hell.

    Miranda turned away from the shield putting her back to Chronos to look at the others. “You think it feels remorse and that is why it wants to help us? Are these things even capable of feeling remorse? Because I know for damn sure the things up there that are trying to kill us didn't feel sorry about it. They are killing machines and nothing more. You are all crazy to trust this Chronos without any reason or proof. Excuse me for not having blind faith in this false god. News flash, gods don't exist.”

    “Have you got a single productive answer?” Sayori snapped, her heart racing from shock at Cronos' attack and anger at the pathologically combative Lyran. Her hands crushed into fists inside her suit. “If not, then for once in your life, shut your fucking mouth!

    Stratford walked behind Miranda quickly and placed her metal arm around her shoulder. "Enough." she finally said.

    Vezarres was muttering to himself in the guttural Dragonoid tongue. When he spoke, he almost sounded amused. "Can we convert this to our own?" He asked aloud and looked up to the machine.

    Sayori shook her head, as wary of provoking the alien construct further as she was of its demand to commune with Sinclair.

    “First priority, we need to get home.” she said. The answer was for Vez, for Miranda, and perhaps even for Cronos itself. “And nothing else.

    "What is this... 'communion'?" Iona asked, unmoved by the alien alpha's attack.
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 04-14-2019 at 09:05 PM.
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  2. #102
    The Last Remembrancer
    dakkagor's Avatar
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    “The gate…” Sayori looked sharply at Ella. “Is this news to you too?”

    "We'd suspected." Ella nodded. "It would make sense for the virulent bastards to try and find new hunting grounds now this galaxy is exhausted of prey."

    "Can we convert this to our own?" He asked aloud and looked up to the machine.

    Ĩ̿ ̱̭̼̺W̫̠ͫ͝A̙̲͍̍͝Ŝ͔̜̙͚̆ͤ̄̀ ͇̯̦̭̯̬́ͯ̂̏C̟̙̘͎̣̯̾̀̐R̡̹̟̳̭ͨE͆́ͫA͍̎̄́̓͐͂T̯̝̿͊ͪ͂ͯ̅Ë́ ͇͚̰͖̞ͫͧD̻ͬͤ̋ͨ̏ͫͪͅ ̟̝̝̬ͯ̈́̔̒͆ͤ̕ͅT̎͆̌͗O̴̭̝̓ͭ̊̐͛̇ͬ ̖̺̱͓̳͉̰S͍͈̦̣̓ͬ́ͧE̶̝̙̼̲͕̐̚Ř̻̗̼̠͓͓̤͗͠V̺̭̈́͐ͭ̄͋̚Ěͮ͛ͬ ̵̜̇̑ͪ ̟͈͓̫ͤ̎͟M͏̙̬͈͉̞ͅͅY̻̘͇̼̪̌́ͩ͑ͣ͗ͨ͘ ̳͉͓͝M͋ͨͨ͐ͪͮ̈Aͩ͌ͦ҉̠̩̗̖͙͙S͙̼͇ͅT͚͉͙̽Ē̒͏̼͓̬̜R͎̗͔ͭ̊̉͊̅ S͙̮̠̖̍ͮ̒ͦ̕.̱̳͔̔̈́̊ͯ̎ ͓͕̖̲͍̓̈́̈́ͨ̚ ̧͈̲̭̘̠ͩ̌̽I̬͇̰̫̬̪̝ ͍͇̺̥̻͑̏̏̏̂̚͠S̬͍ͪͨ́ͫ̎E̩̖̒͂̓̕R̠͖̘̹ͅV̛̬̲̩̰̩̝̱̾ͨE̥̜͇͑͑ D̳̹̪̓̾͐ͣ͌ ̜͈̪͙̝̱͖ͭT̟͎̟̲͍̔ͫ̊ͪH̴͕̣̜̰̳͒̏̏̑̋ͪË̖̤͔̠̠͛̑M̩̻̯͚̅̓̔̊̀ ̳ ̸ͫͤͩͨ̂͊̅G̛̳̙̜̼̈́̉͂ͦL̠̬̩̾͒ͧͯͮͫA̪̝̤̞̝̯̗͗͑̾̉̆ͯ͊Ḓ̮͙͓̓̄ L̅͑ͤ̃ͪ͌͗͠Y̳ͦͥͮͤͯ̿̾,̲͚̹ ̯̩̟̞͖̓͊̔̈́͌͗͂R̺̦̺̺͚̯͝ͅE͉̻̪̘̣͎ͮÅ̞̰̪̻̤͛͋̊͛V̖̲̲̰̻̹̎̋ͫ ͇Ĭ͙̪̈Ň̘̹͕̪ͧ̚Ğ̻̹͔̮͈͇̃ ͇͓̞͚̲̫͗͋̑͑͗ͮA̬̦̻̭̦̗̝̋̆̿ͬC̯̓ͨ̅R͛ͮ̿͒ͩ̀Ǒ̦̪͇͖͔ͤ̓ͮ͛ͭͤS ̙̂ͣ̀͑̉Ŝ͈͓̣̺͌́͂̂ͩͤ͜ ̨͍̲͈͖͈̭̣ͫ͋̀T̵͕͓̣̺̰ͤͪ̌̎H͈͙̳̉̓̈̃̐̓E͖̅́ ̷̲̹̳͔̭̏͋ͧŚ̸̤̞̦̙̤ͪͪ̄̎̅ͅT̥͈̟̣̼̼̹̆͆̐ͮͣA̡͇ͣ̿́ͧ͒̏ͅRͫͮͯ ̐ͪ͏̞̰̙S҉.̱̣̙̳̲̜̑̂̈́ͦ͆ͤ ̧͙̜͈̀ ̗̹Î̠̱͓̫̭̹̩̔̃ͩ̈ͮ̚ ̢͛ͅ

    W̼͎̰̟͙̺͢I̹L̫̞̜ͣ̿͌̑͛͛̚Lͧ̂͋̂͡ ͔̱ͮ̑N̡͉͉̟̯̆̈́ͨ̉̚̚ͅO̵T̢̬̘͍̱̽̆̂̈́̀̊ ͖̰̙̠̦̉ͤ̑̑̂ͪŚ̳͕͇E͈̮̣͕̗̦̝̍̇͐R̖ͫ̎̔̄̉̂ͫV̑ͣ̽̈́̃E̹͇ͩ̇͆̌͞ ̗͇ ̃ͫ̈͜Ā͙N̨̤̙̬͉̘̈́O̰Ț͙͙̩̹Ḫ̀̎͛ͮ͡ͅE̟͌ͦ̆̍ͯ̌̚R͔̦͕̬͇ͩ.̓̚ ͣͬ̌̚


    B̍̕U̴͔̣̫̯̯̺̺ͤͯT̢̐ ҉̻̺Ǐ̠̘͔͌ͩ͒͋̋̌ͅ ̭̬͇̘̱͎W̶̖͈͓͈̹̟̓I͔ͯ͆̾Ḷ̘̬̯̟͊͝L̮̗͇̫̞͔̲ ̜̦͖̭͌̌ͫ̓ͮȦ̙͎̙̼͕̙ͥ̍̅L͖̦̼̞̞͛̿ͮL̡̺̦̣͕͍̈̽̎Y̰̠̝͎̯͡ ̳ ̷̝͉̭̪̍͐̂W̗͕̦̲̱̫͒̽ͯ̄I̓̓͒͘T͚̫͖̬̚͞H̆ͩ̈ ̸̭͉̹̥̯̺̤̍Y̢̐ͯ͗͆ͦỎ̝͈̖̹̝̖͑́̆̉͢Ǘ̖̝̫̳̼͙͕ͫͮ̌.͒̃ͯ̄ ͔ͨ


    "What is this... 'communion'?" Iona asked, unmoved by the alien alpha's attack.

    Ĩ̶̿̎̿̓T̰̱͕͔͈̰͝.̖̘͙̳̲̟ͧ͑͛͑͠ ̪̯̭ͨ̆ͨ.̪̩ͯͯ̃̾̔ͨ ̓͆̉̍҉̱̹ͅ.͖̬̲ͅI̠ͩT̶͔͛͐̏́ͯ́ͥ ̷̱̮̊IŚ̰͎̮̝ͩ̐ͤ͡ ̰͎̙̙̩̎̎ͣ̚P͛̔ͪ̆ͯ̚͏Ṙ͎̦͖̘͍͑̓͒͒̍͢O̠̙̣͕̭͚̝O̯͉͛̅̀F̙̬̟̬̊ ͔̬̳.͉̣̺̞̩͖ͣ̇̓ͧ͑ ̨̥̪̰͚̠̯͚̈ͨ̓̌̐͑ͥ ̛͉͉̣̼͓͉̄́ͫ͋̀͑̽A̫̜̙̜̗̼͕̔͛N̘̟̗̘̜͊ͣ̓ͩ̂D̞̠̗͍̖̞̰ ̨̩͚͕͇̱̭͓̏̏̎ͫ͌ͭ͗K͖͈̻̙ͨ̏̉̀N͓̙̯̬ͩ̉̇Ȯ͂̊͞Ẇ͕̌̌̆̃̊̃Lͤ̍ͧ ̨̟͎͙͈̈ͬE̞͍̐̉̓͌̈́D̟̫ͫͤ̉̚̚G͚̩͙̜̕E̷̗͉̖͇ͅ.̤̫͓̂̋̑̍̎͘ ̝̤ͅ ͓̘̫͍̥̱̼̒̈́ͫ̒̏͂ ̶͔̩̲̄̔ͨͪͧ̎͒I͙̫̲̹̲̭̲͛̽͆̏̂ ̀͛ͧͨW̞̤̳̝̞͒ͦ͋̀I͔͙̠̤̻̅̉ͮ̅L̺̔ͨ̎͞L͚̥̆̀͝ ̩ͦI̶̜̒͂̿ͪͬ̌̚N̙̗͙̱̪͋ͯͣ̕ͅT̫̺̱̱͇̫͂̉̉̿͋̽͂E̱͔̤̤̖ͬ̆̊̔̈́R͆ ̠̲̽͗͑ͦͨ͞F̘̥̰̭͓̑͒ͯ̒ͅḀ̺̤̭̜̮͑̔̓̚͜C̙ͪ̉̕E ̛̘̲̗̬̣͐͗ͥͥ̓ͫͅW̠̠̝̼̩ͥ͒͑ͅI̿̅ͮT̪̯̠ͩ̿H̻͆ͨ ̖͖̤͎͖͎̏̍́͊ͤ̒͠Y̻͔͔̏̇̉̒O̷̼͕͕ͫͤͯ̎U̜͔͔̱͖ͮ̇ͬ̃̄,ͫͣ̋̾ ̥̜͓͟ ̝̜̺̗͓̗ͯ̓̔̂ͧẠ̫̘̤͇͎̳̍ͭͩͪ̑̍̃́S̹͚̣͕͓̞̞ͮ̊ͣ̆ ̎͋ͧ҉͓͕̬I̪̺̩͑̈̏ ͬ͗̃͟Ő̘̻̪̠̤̬̞̃N̲̤͔ͤ̆̐C̗̱͋̾͠E͖̩̞̗͈̻̅ͨͫͧͥͨ̈ ̯̱̖͡Ḋ̫͓̞̣I̱̤̙̻̤̦̣͊̉ͣD͚͈͙͖͐̑͒ͧ̄ ͥ̎ͦ͒̆̉ͯ҉̩͕̻W͇͉͔͕̣̭I̗̬̳͎̖͒̾̏́T̪͇ͯ͛ͦ̔̔̅̌H͙̳̞͇͚͒͒ ͖͍ ̳̰̹͇̚͡ͅM͖̄ͮ̌̆Y̲̞͆̏ ̷̖̱͛M͎̻̣Åͫ̍͂҉͚̙̣S̹̺̙͔̗̄̍ͫͦ͑͢T̵͎̖̲̗̻̦͕ͫ̊͋Ẹ̽̐̿͌͡Rͭ ͦ͊͞Sͤ͒̃̓̂͂.̏ ̹̭̄ ̤̬̥ͦͅ
    Y̨̩͑ͣ̾͌ͩ́̾ͅO̼̫͓̐Ȕ̪̲̟̺̻͝ ̦͓̟̹̰ͪͮ͆̾ͬẈ͖̫I̭̼͓͇̣L̖̥̬ͪ̏͋̾ͥL̬̹ͪ͌ ͈̲͈ͣ͡R̫̒͛͗̒͌͛E͖͓ͫ̿͋̅ͥ̇̒̀C̤͓͇͇ͯ̍E̗͇̣͇̫̝̘͋͆͢İ̡͔̱ͅV͋ ̸̠ͧ̐̏̾Ė̸͕͍̣͇̺̙̑̓̾̚ ̞͖̣͓ͬ̀̄̿̚͟T̮͈̦̫̭̩ͣͥͤͮͩ̈͘H̤ͅE̐̓͐ͬ ͖̪̹̟̜ͣ͗̂ͣK̉N̈ͭ̌́̔́̑͏̙̼̥O̴̻̦̰̘̹̔́ͦ̚W͕̹̗̩͇̮̽̄ͧ̋̃͟Ľ͐ ̦̻̞ͧ̍ͪ̍͞E͙̰̻̹̙D̰͖͚̪̱̊ͪ̾̉̾G͔͖̗̹͐̽ͮ̌̌͋ͅḘ̮̟̫͑̄͂ͫ ͖̊̊̍ͫT̥̥́O̚͏͉͍̝̠̩ ͓̂ͫͬͥB̳ͧ̋͌̂͂̑̀ͅÙ̢͎̗I̜̥͓̥̻̥̞̅ͩͤ͜L̖͇̺̳D͍̱͖͔̼̻́ ͫ̓ͯ̉ͯ͛̚͏̘̹̯̟͉T̤͉̝̤͊̚H̼̞̝̱͋͋E̢̘̜̱̹̖͕͆ͣ̓ ̲̭͙͕̺̤͕ͣ̎̓͗ͩ̈ͭT͎̲̣̽O̥͈̩̭̪Ȯ̩̜̜͇̹L͇̙̪̱̭͇̱̅͛͑̽̂͒͢S͒͒ ̳̻̹̥̜̿ͭ̑͑͝ ͇̟̝͓͎͛ͫ̌͐ỴO̥͋̋̇ͫ͜U͉̩̟̽͐ ͔̺̖͓̝͓̱͑̚̕N͕͇̤̗̣̜͂Ẹ̦͔͈̯̦̗̓̾E̳͎͉̜͉̟͉ͨ̓́̈̓͐D͔̮͚̭ͅͅ. ͎̮͖̭̈́̅̒́͆̂


    The voice sounded almost pleading as it continued.


    T͌҉H͎͎ͪͫ͂̈́E̸͎͉̞̙̪͙ ̪͖̤ͨͬ̓ͫ͗͐͒͝S͙̣̫̼̤̳̫͋͐̎ͨṔ͍̘͚̩͈̙͗ͥA̵ͧ̏W͉͎̗̙̲̬͌̃́̆͠ͅ N̙͎̹͡ ͚̫̦̜͇̙͓̿͑͛̚̚Ơ̱̿F̩͔̌ ̵͇̞̪̣̎ͫ͑ͦͪM͍̩͐ͭ͊̅̍Y̞̟̟̦ͨ̓̎̐ ̴ͮͯͪ̅͐́C̈́͡H̻͎͋̾̌̊̿̚Iͨ̋͐ͩ̄͢L̓͆̉̊҉̮D̟̠̱̜̪̖̲ͣ́R͕͈͖̰ͣͬ ̬̙E̙̮̎͟N̮͈͐͝ ͚̩̖̹̠̉͑ͦ̚͢Ų͕̮̭̹S̹͓̙̟̖̤̉̊̑͐͗ͮ̏͝ͅE̦̝̣̹̦͇͕͗ͪͯ̀̃̃ ͐̀Ṱ͖͎̤͔̉ͣ̅̈́̇ͅẈ̠̠̫̰͛Oͩ͐ͭ̅ͤ̓͆ ͙̝̤̱͌͌M̱̲͢Ḙ͕́̍ͣ̈́͌͗̽T͍̤͖̟̤̰̃̅͒ͩ̽͂̿H͍̣͖̥̅̓̾͂͝O̅D̓ͮͪ ͙̮͛̒S̟̏̂̈́ ̱̥̠̟̼ͩ̓̀͐T̸̹̠͉̎ͨ͑O͐̉̋ͣ͏̞͙̯̘͚ ̉ͦ̊̔ͯͣ̿͏̳̲͈̪̯̱͉C̝̑̾ͤ̓͝Ỏ̭͚̻̘̭ͫͤ̐̆̈M̘͈̻͕͙M̝̯̾ͫ̍́̽̓U ͔̂ͫ̅N̩̬̭̊ͫ̂ͪI͈͎͔̺̒̔̇̿ͯ͗́C͕̰̻̼̼̲ͥͫ̎̆̓ͣA̸͓͎̙̣͙̜̦ͮ͑ͫT ͤ̓͝E̱ͪ ̠ͫͯ̾̅̿W͐͆̽͑͗͋̔I̷͕̭̱̘̬̽ͪ͂̄ͥ̇̾T̬̻ͬ́H̶͕̹̾̄ ̷͔̞͛T̨̗̺̬̪̠̦H̸͈̼̥̥̥ͨ͂̉̐E̠̙͍̜̱ͦ͠Ĭ̥̟̼̫͈̓̐ͣͮ͊ͅR̎ͧ͋̓̂ ̹̼̩̥̈͌ ̺̲̤ͬͬ̋͐ͩ͊̕M̫̝̠ͧͬ̋̾́̈Ä̟̹̳̼͖́͆ͯͣ͝S҉̘T̞̩͍̩͒Ḙ͙́̎ͯ͐̓ͨͩ ̭R̲̖͚̆͡S̱̼͕̝̺̼͘.̙̳̞͇ͤ̅ ̦̳͈̲̺͉̌̒̓ͨͧ̽͑ ̦̘̊͛̽́ͅT͇̖͈̹ͥͭͣ͛ͭ̎̚Ḧ̬͕͖̖́̋͊̌́͐̏Ẻ̫̩̳̬̰̞͔̊ͩ̋͆ ̡̻̣ͥͣ̋͑

    F̺̹͕͜Ĩ̞̩̞̯̙͋Ř̠̲̝̜̗̎̎̔͢S̻̫͔̩̬̯̿ͬ̇̓̇͑̈́̀T͚̫̫ͭ͐̄̃ ̖̻ ̲͚͙̟̘̞ͧ̾I͔͍͕̫̍͜S͎͑̔̕ ̺̣͖̳̌́ͮͪͤR̭̞̮̟͚̽̽̓̉ͨA̩̬̪͙̻̻D͓͎͔̙I͊O̝̊̐ͤ͋͡ ̘̪̖̱̞̞̮̓̍͌W͎̫̖̬̪͈͔̋̓ͮ̚̚Ăͨ͐̂҉̫̥V̺̈Ę̖̻͔͔̙̗͈ͧͭ̎Ṡ́̓ ͍͑̌̈́,̢͕͖̻̯͓̀ͦͥͨͧ̚ ̖̤̲̮̮̰̾̃W͕̱̰͎̍Ḧ̵͍̹̦̳͇́ͥ͛̓̅Ÿ͔̤̮̕ ͇̀̄̍͌T̥͊ͬ͐͗H̻͚̹̓ͨ͠Eͥ̊̊̏ͨͪ͡Ỵ͙̫͇̬͊̌͂ͦͧͮ͞ ͤ͒͂̒ͯ͢H͙̯͊ͧ̊̋̾͆̐̀A͔̲̿ͩͧ̏͛͐̀̕V̴͕͍̰̲̻͍̰̆̂ͩͫ̈É̷̈́ ̦͚̣ ̧͓̐͒͒ͮ̃N̺̥̭̝̬̆͋ͩ̀ͥͪO̶̭̪͚T̥̟ͅ ̵̙̻̿ͨͩ̓͊͆V҉̘E̠͓̘̥̣͎̍ͬN̴̲͍̩̳̠ͥṪ͚̻̓̈̓̓͗Û̽R͔͍̰ͣ͆̅̽̕ ̱̱̫E͔͙͉̱̹͋̈́ͮ͒D͍̥͖͚̫̞ͧͥ̄ ̡̙̌̍͛ͩͣͫTỎ̸̹̜̫ͦ̐̏ ̞̳̖T̯͈̪̄͗̾͡H͔̤̞̝͎͊̽́̅̍̚I͚̳̿͘S̵̙͎̝̙͈͇ͫ͑ ̱̰͆͜W͓̩̩͉̤͙͇͛O̹̳͌͑ͪͥ͛̽R̓L͇̠̫͙͙̮͈̽ͩ̚Dͮ̓͐̿͊҉̺̤͎.͌ͩ̿̍ ̙ͦ̇̕ ̺́̑̌ͮ̇̋̃̕ ̝͊̎̂ͪ̏͑̀T̯̘̰̅̈ͭ̅̉̍ͭH̩ͯ͒ͩͨͯ͛E͕̯ͭ̿ͦ͂̽ͨ̓ ̦̦̣͔S̺͗̑Ê͉͈͙̗ͤ̆ͫ͠C̘͐͋̂̋͗̈́̚O̟͍̝̣͓ͪ̅ͣ͛ͯ̓͢N̛̫͒̉Dͬͦ̏ ̤̠̱̫͎̜̹͠,̘̯̤̜ͯ̌ͯ̐̄ͭ͡ ͒͐̇Í̖̻̼͉̬̩̄͆͢Ṣ͈̗͈̤ͧ̍ͭͭͣ ̙͈͇̣͓͉͊ͣ̃̋̆ͣA̗̪̪̥ͫ̏̽̿ͮ̐̒N̡̲͍̠̞͎̰̓ͣͬ̋̇ ̧̻̜̆ͩ̎

    Ê̡̯̺̩̮Ñ̆̐̏̏͐͒C̩͆́̏ͭ̈̉͐Rͣ͌ͤ͏͉̥Y̫̾P̞͎̙̝̍ͤ͘T̄͝Eͤͪ̑͋ ̬̳̍̓̓D̳͎̭͂̆ͅ ̠́ͨ̋ͭQ͙̞͢Ù̜̟̻͎͙͈͉̄̌̐͌̚̚͝A͑͒̃̑͏̝̻̘͔̲N͔̰͋͛̐͋T͛̓͋͑̆ͪ ͙͓͖̯͍͕̳̅U̺͓͕̼̫̮ͥͩ̌M͇̝̰̟̹̖̲̒ͭͩ͊ͬ̅ͭ ͉̝̫̜ͅĘ̖̳̫Nͬ̓̋ͧ̌̆ͩT̰̟̗̦̑ͭͬ͌A̗̖̳̍̃̌Ṇ̘̙̯̓͌̋̀̌̆̅́G̤̞ ̬̠̙L̰̝͍̬̲̭̭ͬ͠Ḛ͐͝M̞͖͆̾Eͦͭͧ͞N͈̟̺̬ͩ̒ͪͮ̈́T̠̪͝ ̱̖͍̯D̨̖̼EV̴̳͔͔̥̭ͬͣ͌ͅỊ̜̲͙̰͔̅ͩͤĆ̡͆͒͗Ĕ͉͎͖ͨ͌̐ͪ.͑͒ͧ̚ ͉͒̒ͪ ̨̻͓̱͒̃̍ͦ ̴̮͈͇̣̦̮̓ͦṪ̫ͩͭͯ͌͜H̵̟͔̹̱̗̑̇ͮ̿ͤ̎I͏̻͎̱͖̰͙S̖̖̈̒ͫ́ ̶̼͊ͥ̔̔͑͑S̮̜͚͓̜̝̗̈̑Ẻ̞ͤ̈́̀͂͂̋̀C̜̺ͧͯ̾̿̓ͩ͡ͅOͥ̌͑Nͬͣ͗͂̀̽ ̤͇̼̜͖̪D͔͎̝͕̾ ̢̗͉̤̹͐M̛̬͓͉ͬE̺̘ͣ̂̂̇T̨̿ͪ͒͐H̸̝̠͋̅̈͗̍Ö̮͕͍̪͈̘̟́D̙̺͉ͯ̀ͭ ̥̣̪̹ ͔̙̞͙͊́Ș̗̯̏̃ͭ͐Eͮ͋ͫ̽ͣ͘R̬̠̯̘̤̳ͦ̄̌̄͊̿ͯV̠̜̙͙̝̰͉̇̐ͩ͆̇̂̚ E̱̹̻̹̻̮͘S̖̪͔̻̠͂̃ͨ͞ ̦̻̥̮̤͒̉A͈̦̬͈̻̮ͭ͑̽̿͊S̨͚̦̱̥̰ͤͬ̅̐̾ͬ ͎̥̭̩̝͇̫͊̂̍ͫ͋̀ͤT̝̬ͮ̒̈́͒͐Ḩ͔͓̘̺͔̲̀E̖͍̱ͯ̋̚ ͙̋͒͌͑̚͟W̵͎͈̱̋ͪ̓A̠̝͇̠̮͍Y̹̝̩̬̳̻̘̍ͯ͡ ͖̬͙̱̭̥̯̄̃T̩̩̒́̃̂̌H̠̉́̌̓ͅE͓͋̏ͦͨ̃ͯͭY̲̪̗̼̩̺̌͂̅ ̠͓ͭ̇͒͊̕

    I̬͍̠͡D̺̀E͕̙̱͎̞̱͂̈ͣ̏̌͆N͍̲̠̩̩̳͋ͧͬT̮̮͈̭ͮ̓̒̿͂̉͝I̸F̌ͥ̆̊ ̷̘͖̯̫̏Ý̲͉̽͊ͪ͢ ̍ͨ͆̏͏̱̥̳̱͎̙̯A͔͖Lͥ͋́ͥ͊L̗͎̫̺͚̤̳̎ͣ̅ͭͥI̩͇͙̐̎E͕̬̭̥̙̗̙͋S ̜̭͕̂ͣ͗ ̉̈͡A̡͍̱̫͉̗̟͛̽ͭ͆͌͐N͈̣̳̠̺ͪ͂͗ͥ͂̚D͚̹͚͍͓ͫ̊ ̘̺͈͚̮̭̘ͫ̀̚E̹̩̤̺̊ͤ̄̈̕ͅNͤͩE̝͙̼͐̓M̼͉̙̿͊̔͟I̗͕̪̞̗̗̼͞E̙̰ ̟͇̗S̲̗̠͙̞̱͔̋͐̃͑͂.̽̏̑ͧ ̛̼͎͚̞͓͔̱̆̓ ̵̹̙͈̲͍͉̠̅̓̿̌͆͂ͨM̝̙͉̻̹ͮ͒̈́͛ͅY̬̠ͨ͛͞ ̢̘̪̭̣̻͗ͣ̽̽͐̉͐S͊̾̎̑̾ͯP͇͖͇̜̃̇ͯ̂A̝̮̪͊ͬ͌ͫ̚W̶̪̤̜̘͌N̰̈́̆͠ ̗ ͍͉̱̪B̼̘̟̱̤͔̪̊Ĕ̗͇L̝̩͇̰̪̂̓̄ͪ̍I̫͉̫ͧ̈́̈ͮͫ̀ͭÉ̦̯̘V̢͓̇ͫ̐ ̘̳̟E͚̔̋̎́ͭ̑ ͌̐̽̍̀̎̇͏̞̙̠͔̪͈̪Ĩ͙̟̺̊̆̐ͤͪ͜Ṱ̩̭̬͚̣ ̔͌̄̎I̜͉̟̩͎̟̿͌Ş̬̫͎̹̼̳̌͂ͭ ̙̳͍̮͚̼̐U̹̝̜̟̇̅ͣ̄Ņ̫͇ͪ̍ͪͥḆ̺̼̘̦̤̇̃̓͂͌R͔̮͚͒ͣ́E͍̬̝̪̘̤ ͙Ḁ̗͗ͨ̏ͅKͤͯA͖̮̟͛ͧ͑̌ͥ͠B̲͚̈́ͩ̎̄Lͭͩͩ́Ê̦̼̼͕̱͍.̯̄̏͛ ͕ ̿͌ͫͨ͘ ͖̝̞͚̳̳̥̂͟A͍͔̣̬̣̲͠N̝̜͗̓ͦͫ͐D̼̣̮͚̱̟͖͆͊̎̋̈́͞ ̺̉ͬͮͬI҉̣͇͙̮T̘͈̥ ͐̇ͤ͛͛I͇̫͚͇̭̬ͫ̈S̪͉͎ͭͫ̆͋̄ͩ.̞̗̣͚̟͑̂̿ͯ͌̉ͅ ͎̮̅ ̜͙͍̥̠̅Ḟ̰̥̦̘̉̅͂́͌̀O̡̼̯̿̇Ȑͣͨ ͉̬̖ͪ̐͒̉Ỹ̳̘̩̭̊ͭO̯̤̼̣̻̳ͩ̔͂ͩͮ̈́̅͠U͖̘̝ͯ͗ͨͥ̈͞.̣̫̌̄ͤ ̟̣



    H̦̪̣̯̥̗ͫ̎̌ͅO̶̪ͨͯͬ̀W̿̅ͬ͛̕E̝̳̭͖̩̱̹ͫ̌̄ͫ͑V̸́ͥ̎̊ͥͣ̈È̓ͫ ̹͇̩̩̣̞̤̐ͣR̪̦ͨ̅̍ ̉̑͛̽͌͏͖͖̠̫̰͍̬Ḭ̦̘̙̭́̾͒̅̾̋̓͟ ̗̠̹͎ͩ̐̄H̦̪͇̤A͙̯̪͜V̷̞̩̓̿̒̓ͭE̛̩̼̪͉̙͐̎ ͖̻̥͖͚̦̬̂̈́̓ͧ̽ͬ͋͜D̤̥̥̙̃͆E̹̤̝͉̹͠S̡̻̯̩͚͖̗ͦ̄͒̈̆ͨ̚I̴̩̥ͮ̔ ̤̲̬̪G̯̦̭ͦ̇ͬ̑̂̍͊N̸̹̫̦͍̳ͮ̋̽̃̿̋Ē̪̼̞̒̆̈́͐D̼̟̤͚͎̆͜ ͔̩͕̙̘̲͇̽͜A͇̜̘ͭ̊ͪ͒̽̇ͬ ͒̄̍Dͪ̆ͫ͌͗̂ͮḚ̮̰̟̝̟̺ͥ̓ͪ̓ͤ̃̃V̵̓ͥ̀̉̐ͮ̚I͇̖̪͚̻̎̔̄ͧͥ͊ͩ͢C ͈̜͙̪̂͌́͊E̡̳̙͚̭͎̩̻͆ͯ ̩͋̐͆ͭY̅̌̉ͫ҉͈̭̹̪̤Ȯ̐͗͠U̗̣͇ͦ̒͌̔ͥ̈́͘ ͇̝͕̤̠͙̍ͬ̊ͨ̿̈́̀C̫̝̥ͧ́ͩ̾͂̅̔͜Ả͈͉̔ͨ̚N̐ͪ͒̔ͭ̌̐҉̭͍̮̝ ̶̻͚̿ͧBŪ͕̾͆̓I͑̊ͬ͞Ļ͗̓̄D̵̖̺̪̃ͭ͐̌ ͓ͥ̄̎̑̏̍͡A̧̩͖̹̞̠̙N͚͓̜͓̦͓̺̅̈͛͒̍ͫ̽D̡̜̯̜́ͥ ͈͓̻̰͎͕͕̽Ḍ̱͕̫̙͛̅́̃ͩͯ̃̀E͏͕P̱͖̖̦͕̥̄͂͗̑ͅL̬͇̪̦͙͐̿Ô͗ͣ̔ ͙Y̳̰͕̜͕̯̓̑.̷̟̰͈͈̐ ̭̬̝̤̥̀ͧ̏ͅ ͎̜̣̪̖̙̹̔͊̀̓N̲̦̭̠͓̥O̹̦̯̝͇̭̒̿ ͚̼̕B̟̞͐̈́Ĭ̞̊̈́́G͈̥ͯ̈̊ͤͤ̌͐G̘͚͚̦̹̦̤̀̄͒ͤ̔̃͢È̹̝̓͛ͣ̃ͣ̀͜ ̥Ȑ̰̤̼̟̱͖̓̅́ͮ͠ ͓̿̑ͦ͌T͌́̅́ͥ͋̂͏̩H͖̙̝͓̣͋A̵̹͒̈́ͤͩ̑N͎͇̹̻͆̄ͤͅ ̭̩͐̒A̷̳̫̥̟͙̐͌̂͂̊̽ ͉̦̐͛ͧ̆̿ͦR͓̺̯̣̈͢ͅI͓̘̟̔ͬͧͣF̳͋̉̈́ͥͨ͂̐L̢͖̟͇̗̱̪ͬͥͮ̃Ë́̽̓͂ ͈̟͇̙̤.̖͓̲̩̱̲ͮ͛͋̊ͨ̽̔ ̪̜͕ͪ͢ ̝̜̳ͩ̔̋́ͅ

    E̶̐̃͑Qͯ͒̅̐͑̄͜U͕̘̪͙̖̤͊̃̇̆ͅI̳͔̖͂̇͗͐̒P̦̩͉͉͇̗ͦͦ͊ͬͅP̾͒̆ ͈̪̖̅͒Ḙ̖̥̟̕ͅD̪̲̝̣͉͌ͣ̇̈ͬͬ͂ͅ ͉̬͇̗̳̱͐ͮ̈́̅̒̑̀W̒ͧ͏͚̫̪̮̗̺I̫ͣ̇ͦͤ̍͝T̴̓̏H͎͍̲̱́ ̒̒̑ͭ̂A͕̔͋͑ ̩̘̏͑͑ͣͬ̒̾͡S̠̱͔̗̠ͪ̓͋̌̓͟M̥̉ͯ̌ͩ̈́̍A̒͑̚҉͎̘L͎̺̲ͮͣ̃ͫͣ͐ͅͅͅ ̳L̰̜̣͉̻̮̠͂̉ ̛͖̌̏͌͂Ḁ̡̮̹̣ͯ͗̇ͨM̈̃Ọ͕̠̮̖͎U̐͂͞N̟̍̋͂̆̈͝ͅT̕ ̡̬͓̂̃̓̇ͥ̓O̠̦ͦ̓̎͊̇ͅF̥̠̲̳̮ ̶̼͇̝̥̲̬͓̾Q͉͈̅͂̈̅Ų̖͑͋ͨ͐͑͌ͧẢ͖̠ͯ̚͞N̛̘̣͓̭̙ͯT̮̫̗̥ͧU̇̆ ̟͉̲̗̇͌͆ͮ͞M̰̪̆̒ͪͪ ̺̲̠͙͇̃͢M̰̗̟̭̞̺̓͌ͪ̾ͫA̩̪̓ͩͬ̇̏T̛̿̿̓ͪ̚T͇̂͒͒Ẽ̝͉̈́Rͣ͌̅̕ ̱̜̟̖ ̵̀̅ͪ̇͐H̭͇̟ͅA͖̜̭ͥ̽̊̓͊Rͮͥ̅̊V̺̩̥̗̤̖̄̔̋̒͒E̻͎̥̦͕ͬ͆ͫ͟ͅS̓ ͓̗̹͈͇̺̈ͪ̇͆͐͂T̩͓͒Ȩ̲̻͔͎͉͂̑̿͋͊͋̚D̠̺ͦ̐ ͋ͮ̎͛̌́̍͠F̨̤̫͈͆̓ͅR̷̬͙̹̤ͤ͆ͤ̍̃ͤO̞̍̋ͮͪͨ̀̎M͓ͤ̊ͩ̏͜ ͙̖̮͎͓͙̰̅̔ͨA̴̯͚͛ͭ̆ͩ̊̈́ͅ ̻̌̾D̝̞͕̭͔͓̓ͨ̇ͨ̾͂Ẽ̢͉̘̽ͯͤA͓̬̼̚͟Ḋ͉͙͍͔̫͆̌̓ ̹͙̃'̓͊̂̑̇͐̚҉̖̘̞̙C̞̫͌ͣ̉ͤ͐͗͠O̢͓̽͌L̛̫̮̾̅̇͑ͅL̗͓ͣ͗̊̑̈̈́̆ E̹̗̹͇̱̝̔Ć͈̰̥͚̞̀T͑͛̚̕O̙̞͔̞͔ͪ̐ͪͥR̢̰̙͒ͤͧ̎ͭ'̧̰̐ͨ̃̃ͯ̋̚ ̰̞̗͈̗̪,̨͍̦͖̦̪̝̒̄̑͋̓ͨ̈́ ̫̱̥Ḯ͛ͭ̑̀̅̾T̢̪̳̙̋͊̽ ͕̰̞͎̰̻͉ͪͬ͐̿̌͋͡

    W̷̲I͓̙̬͍͖̮͆͑͂L̼͔̻̖̉̏L͈͎̺̩̉͆̓̊̑ͩ ͏̙̪͈̯̻̻ͅB̷͔̮̓̓ͯͩE̸̯̩̞͕̠ͮ ̥̱̼̞͎̘̥ͨ́Â̵̟̺̓͑̍̎B̙̏ͭ̆̌̍ͦ̔Ĺ̐͂̽̇̄͢E̱͈̹ͤ̓͛̒̄ͣ ̸ͪ̔̎͒ͮ̇̚T͉̲͚̳͖̞͙ͭ̎ͤO̵̦ ̬͔̺ͭ͂̐̏ͫ͊O͇͙͑̉̉ͫV͎ͮ͗ͧȆ͖́̂R̪̝̪̦̜̱ͭ́͐̈̽ͥ̚R̘̤̅ͤͭ̈̽͠I ̦̝̹͓̠̽ͯ̆̈́́ͤ̚DÉ͉ ̦̹̳͍̘̋́T̯̘̤̰̦̾ͭͧ̏ͤ̅̃͝H̡̙̞̅ͧ̐̍ͅE̴̿̋̾͐ ͉̦͇ͥͫ͗ͮ͋̿́͜T̘̻̒͗Ř̵̻͉͉̗͐͊͆̚A͙̪͕ͨ̒ͫ̚͞N̹̮͕̋̑̾͗͗ͬS͏̭͚ ̰͖̘͈̳M̏̿ͬ̋͐ͩI̷ͥ̋͒ͧͤS̲̙̺̯̏ͪ͡ͅS̸̲I̙̗̰̣͚̳̞̾̓̓ͪ̀͌͒Oͣ̓̈ ̬̟͎̇̀Ǹ̜̘͈̯ ̢ͨ͂ͥ͒F̱̝̤͚͕̜͚͆͛͂̈́ͩ̑͗͞R̆ͮͦ̈́̾̅̀҉̦̟͈̺O̶̪̣̻̞M̨̻ͩ̔ͧ͛̈̎̚ ͕̣͚̩̩ͅ ̖̩̟̪̼͓̿̿ͮ̃̒Z̺̺ͥͭͩͨ͐E͉̫̗̠̫̾͒̉͒͂̊U̯̺̰̥̰͂ͮ̅̀̚Ŝ͉̆̄͗ͬ͜ ̜̻͍̮ ̓Ă̝̑͋͆̂͌N̸̫̜̎̄̆ͫ̔D͎̥̈̆͠ ͇̤̱ͬ̍̿̊̊A̩͕͍̝̗̙ͮ̈L̉̓͏̺Ĺ̟͖O̓W̙̟͓͔̎ͤ͌̏ͫ ̛̤̟̤ͮY̥͔͖͙̣̳̔ͦ̉Ȍ͎̻͖͓͉ͯÛ̴̓͊̽̂ͯ ̗̗̖̻͔̼̣̋͑̂̔̊̾͠T͡Ȍͥ̐͊̆̇҉͕̜̰̦ ̴̖̙̬̩̪ͫ̾̾̃R̫̽͐̎͡Ȇ̪͎̣͙͋͗̄̿̚P̥͖̪̳̪̫ͫͧ̉̅ͅR͎̹̥͝O̊ͭ̍ͯ̚ ̬͉̹͖̬̈́͑G͙̼͖̞̮̥̓̓͗̿́R̦͔̬͚̣̙ͬ̈ͤ̈́̄̀Ą̣̹͖͙̫̓̇ͬ̽M͛ͦͧͯͩ́ ͙̮̪ ͧ̒̍͗̌̿Iͧͥ̊ͮ҉̩͓T͎͚̩ͯͬ̔.̨͛ͭ̇̂̒́ ̺̹̟̙̠͑́͌̍͝ ͑̿

    W̸͇͔̦̟̞͉̩ͫͨͬ̏ͧ̓I̾͊T̳̙̤͈͉͒ͣ̅H̻͈͖͌̄̽̃͐̔̚͘ͅ ̮̝̖̞̜̣͚̒̈̍͑M̨̄͆͋̽̆Y̫̦͙͊̆͡ ͍̟͎ͩ̐S̫̪̙̳̥̍ͭ͆͑C̱̤͖̞̊ͫ͛̎ͨ̐̚H̘̝͐ͬͧͩE͔̞̹͂͐̊̎M̎̋̾͒̂ͦ̂ ̸̙͇A̟ͥ͊T̴̯̲̥ͧ͆̊̈́I̝̘͙͓C̛̃ͨ͂̽͋S̸̹̫̹͌̇ͩͪ̆̅,̲̘͕̪̹͋ͤͣͬ̕ ̘̞ ̓͐ͨ͘A̞̳̝̦ͨ̚N̻̣͔͗͌̋̀̍ͨ̓͞D̴̼̙̳͇̅̾ ̽̐̐̾Ẇ̷̞̟̝̼̫̼͆ͬ̊́͂̚H̜ͥ̔̈ͭ́̀̚A͈̣͖͈̻͆̄̊̀Ṱ͕̳̟̩ͬ͂ͧ̈́̏ͅ ̲ ̥̫ͬ̌̊ͪ͐ͮ̑Y̖͉̫̎́͐ͨ͞Ǒ̻̥̈ͥ̀ͪ͒͆͠Ȗ̠͙̱ ̡̳̥͐̋ͪ̒A̲͈L̗͔̠̳̭̽̎̋̽ͅȒ̨̺͚̫͒ͤ̄Ê̝͖̮̦̪̭͒̇̓̔͐͛̕Á̫̺̺ ̝͙̣̤D̥͇̙͍̮̩͖ͣͦ͂͑̂ͫͮ͘Y̷̼̜͎̝̝ͤ̒ͯ̀́ͥ ̺̦̳͓̖̳̻̊͛K͈̤͓͙̳̬̩͆ͯͨ͌N̠̺͕̗͊ͪ̋͡Ő̓̾Wͦ̂ͭͬ̔̈̇͠,̽̍͑ͥͣ̑ ̹̺̼͓̝͇̕ ̰͔̦̘̙̔ͨͬͣ̚Ĭ̢͍͌͛̑ͨͯT̨̫ͪͦ͊̄̽ͭ ͒̎̆̊̋ͨ̽W̵ͮ̌I̫ͪ̇̔̃ͯ͌͟Ḷ̡̞͐̄L̤̯̘̬͙͊̒̔ͧͧͅ ̡̼͙̘͚̻ͧ͗͂͆̂ͥ͗B͚̞̐̎̆ͤ͠Ẻ̗͙̫͎̝̮̹̐͗́̚ ͑ͫͫ̿̽T͎̖̰̮͔͎̙ͦ̃͂H̐̎ͪ͌̎ͯ҉̰̜͚̰̙̘͚Ẻ̴̝ͩ̌̔͆́ ̯͇̹͙̉ͩ̓̐ͭ̃P̙͎̼̱̳ͪ̂̔̏̽͊͡È͓̙̠̫͋͋ͯ̓̑̒R̲̖ͭ̃̈́̃̾̂̆́Fͮ̈́ ̘̮̮̯̥̌̍̆͗E̺̣͓͙̠͘C̩̈̃T͗̇ͭͤ ̢̞̳̱̤͖I͕͆͞N̘̟̼̫̍̊ͮ̚F̒̅I̳̼̻̭̙̊ͬ̀ͥ̌̑́L̻͔̝̰ͥ̍̃͛͛̍̀Tͫͩ ̨̜R̦̬͚̃̄̀͒ͥ̓̍A̵̼̋́̏̄T̯͖͓͕̮͙́O̧͈͓̖̙̗̱ͮͣ̒ͤ̈͌ͅR̈̆͋̋ͥ̏ ̵̻͖͙,͈̫̬͇̮ ̨̗̙̦̍ͣẢ͚̱̗͕̲B̯̗̭̺͒̉̕L͕̰̬̦̰̻͔̃ͧͫͯË̵̥͚̦̬̳́̅ͭ ̳̭͈ͭ̌

    T͚͍̻̃ͥ̚͟Ö̻͚ ͔͈Ě̘́̾̀N̆̄͗̎͗͏̫̠̙̺̜T̻͕̠̖ͣ͆ͣͮ̓͆E̴̹͙͚̰̗̹͌ͪ̋̃̚R̙͛̿͋̆ ̦̘̫ͅ ̼̫̘̞̭̞̻Z̷͇͇̦̙͚ͣ̌ͬE͎̯̥̘̾̀͢U͙̓̋̒̃͆ͩ̿͜S̞͕͈̟ͩͬͮ͊͛͆ͅ.͆̌ ͈͓̜̩̺̻̖̎ͥ́


    "Ironically, this was our plan when that massive command unit started grappling us." Ella sighed. "We tried dozens of times to repurpose or hack a berserker. We thought it was some property of the radio waves, but it seems like this quantum comms device serves as an anti-tamper mechanism. Monsters with a warranty."


    T̷͙̐̿̈H̘̲̺͖͔͍̦̒̂̐̾̕E͟N̹͍̦̺̏̽̄̑ͭͩ,ͫ͏ ͎̪̱̹̦̯̣̑̆̏ͥ͊̓ͪI͂͘T̥̲͇̠͚͌ͮ ̣̓͝Iͪ̍̿̇ͮ͟Ş͖̙̑͑̃̈̉ ̝̺̱͓͔̀A͇̻͚ ̡͍͙̘͉̙̅̔ͪ̇̓̿ͬS̩̮̈́ͬͯ̂͂̈́́I̘̫̺̝̎ͥͦ̍̽͘M̧̲͈̘͕̅̚P̛̭͔̊̒͛̚ ͈̠L̴̦̫̬͚̠̬̇ͣË̫̘̙̱͇̯ͩ̏ͭ̀ͅ ͍̬̯͚̪͙̄̃M̪̲̩͊ͧ̎ͮͭA̶̘͍̤̗̞̓̎̋ͬ̇̅T̸̩̣̩Ț̦͈͖̮̣̤ͣ̕Eͥͤ͐̅ ̜̱͉̻̭ͦͮR̮̖̱̮͗ͫ͋̇͛ ͔͚̤̹̫̼̥̍̽̅̽͡O̬͉͔̪̔͛̉̌̉̾͊́F͆ͨ͛ ͙͊̿̋̕Ċ͉͉̜͎͉̣̩͂ͯ̂͆H̹̯̜͇̖̬̔̑Ọ̱ͨͬ̉̈́ͫ̄ͭO̦̥͖̫̜ͬͨ̽̑̃̆ͅ S̮̭̬͚̣ͯ̃̏̽I̩̟̗̝͡ͅN̤̈́Gͤ́̓͊ ͑ͤ̓̌ͤ͑͆Ỷ̪͙̎̈̊̑ͩͪ͟O͚̙͍͕̠ͥU̦͇̟ͨ̌ͯ̋ͨR͔͈̪͌ͯ̾͆̒̏ ̦̳̥̄̾̑̄̀̚Ṕ̟̗̝̣͎̙͆ͪ͑͒͑ͅOI̛̠͕̱̘̤̖͂ͨͯ̑ͫͣͤS̰͉̆̏ͯ̇̃ͧ̔O ̍ͥ̊̄̑̚̚Ṇ͖̮̥͕̝̟̐̈́ͤ͑.̕ ͚̤̩̹͞ ͙̘̖̞̀̾ͦU͚̦ͪN̰̫̳̞ͤͤ̄̾ͧĹ̜̪͖ͮͦ̂I̪͆̄ͅK̙̮̖̟̞̟ͪͫE͊ͦ͂͂ͬ͒ ̝͉̜̝͕͚̦̎ ̢̲̳̻ͥ̌ͮͣ̋M̬̼̪ͬ͠Y̛͛ͧ̾ ͆̅̏͆҉͎̹̲M͎̦̳̉̏A̛͕̩̫͈̠̯̓S̍̾̆͛̽́̿T͉̱̜͙̩̤̻ͬ͑͊̃̀E̴̗͇Rͦ ̟͍̈́S̬͓̦̬͆̔͌̂̇̔,̘̳̘͉ͫ̍͑̉ ̗̭ͫͭY͚̩͙͑̈́͘O̻̹͇̘̐̆ͅU̳̠̫͍̙͙̱ͭ́̾ ͕̠̦̟̮͚ͪͩ̎̒͆̕Ǵ̶̗̮̭͇͔̃ͭ̆͛R̵ͥͬ̄E̛̿̒́͛̀ͩ̌W͙̭̻̒́́̐ ͔̣̻ͦͅT̠̪̺͖͊̌̓ͮ̀̈́ͣO̢͉̭͊ͥͬͮͪ̌ ̠̙̠̻̳̲͜

    M̪̝̼̻̾̅̋A̩̟̰͕̖̝̓͂ͨ͗ͨTͪU̴R͈̱̟̳̀͟ͅI͖̞̙̭̲̲̬͒̐̋̇̇͛̏Tͦ̃ ͍̤͙̖̊Y̯̺͔̆ ̛̘͉͉͎̃̄͛͒O̝̞̰̱̥̲̻N͙̖̭̠͂ͮ̑̈ͪ̀ͣ ͕͕̲̓͝W̪̗͕̪͓̟͛̓͆̔̔ͧO͚̘͙̘̓ͧ͂ͮ̒͊͆R̳̜̯͎̹̼̗ͫ̂ͦ̓̅́L͂ͥͤ̋ͦ ̞̭̻̪̤̗̎̍͟D̵ͦ̈̄̋̉ͪS̼͍̬̝ͭ ̡̣ͮͩͪ̐O͖̗̝̯̼̘ͪ́ͅF͙̯̱̪̫͕͍ ̞ͧ̈́ͥͮ̀V̳͎̤̏̃͂̀͛͠I̸͓̻͍̗͖̮͔ͤ̋ͬ̉̚Ǫ̝͇̰L̩̻̯̰̠̺̄̽̌E̅̏ͯ ͕̗̩̫̤N̥̣̪̤̬̤̦̋̽ͤ̃̄C̛̱̜̼̩̽̈E̲ͧ͒ͮ̉ͫ͋͒,͓̬̻̍̐̾̈́͐͋͞ ͓̯͉͇ ̬̝͇Á̴͎ͨ̐̎ͯ̔Ň̈ͩ̆͑̉̄́D̡͉͇̼̖̹́̀̃ͤ͛ͥ̿ ͖̣̮̳̠̦̗̈H͎͎̤̣̘̋͋ͩA̢͕̱͔͚͗̿ͤ̈́̓ͬͥV͓̩͚̗͎͚̝̿ͪͯ͗ͦE̴͈̋ͤ̈́ͦ ̪̙͈ ̟ͩ̿̇̈̊̏D̟͉͙̤̻͚͖͡E̶͚̩̦͕̬̦͇͛V̺̬͎͈ͩE͒̏̏ͣ̚͟L͉̪͚̠̝͚̫̕Oͤ ͊ͭ̀P̦̆̽ͦͦ̒͛Ẻ̐҉̹͎͍͎̮̞D̖̩̮̜̳̜ͨ͆͛̿ͬͣ ̰̹̘̈́͐̉̃͘Șͥ̾͗̿͟U͎̭͇̹̟̻̥̇R̟V͕̲̹̪Ḭ̟͍̹͈͐ͭ̌̿̒V̢̮̪̻̥̩̂ A̫̫̯̻ͮ̆L̖͎͍̰͛̿ͬͬͣ ̤̱̘͎̘̯̐T̙͔̺ͤͨR̫̦̋̓́ͤ̉͌͊̀A͕̦̍̽ͩ́Iͣ̈ͬ̎T̨͖͎͖̮̩̰͑ͯ̆̓Sͬ ̺̘̠̞̣̬̄̓͗ͨ̄ͬ ̪̜͍͔ͮͥͮ̒͜ͅT̪̎̽̆ͬ̐͞H̱̝̼Ảͪ҉T̬̯ͬ̀̏̾̅̅́ ̞͂̆̇̏̊̎̕E̡̬͎̩̟̔͒V̪̰͒̎͋͂͋̚͘E̻͔͇̦Ņ̯̻̤̭̜̤́ͥ̇̂ͮ ̬̹͈̲̆̾ͣͨ̒̓N̖̱̮̹ͥ͡Ỏ̲̲̩̗̥̫ͩͩ͞W̰̤̜̝̫̜̱ͬ͆͂ ͖̰͉̯̣ͯ͐ͩͥ̊͘A̢̼͚̟̼̣͙R͓̪̉̄͐ͯͦ̋E̠̼͎̘̺̊͒ͪͣ̉ ̯̳̘͚͙̺͖͜

    H̤̯̣͕̗̝̞̃͂ͤͬ̽ͯÉ̫̝̱̯͍̬̐ͥͣ̍͌L̰̼͖̯͇̓̏̿P̗ͫͯ̆̆̃ͯIͩͩͪ͗̀ ̢͈̬ͦ̏N̮̲͕̯̭̙͎̽̆ͤ̃ͫG̑̚ ̼͗ͮ̏ͤ̓͑̃͠Y̺̪̺̠̒͊O̺ͧU̧̫͚ͨ͒̉͒.̧̗͕̝̬̞̦͕̅̊


    "And that is where we have to admit to a little bit of paranoia on the behalf of the military compliment." Ella interrupted. "The captain insisted that there was a non-zero chance that whatever was on the other side of the gate was hostile. So we got the Concert to release a set of crust cracker WMDs to us. 100 megaton nuclear devices. Get one of those into the belly of the beast, and its all over. Even better, we think, and Chronus here has confirmed this, that all the collectors in this sector of space are controlled by Zeus. Kill Zeus, and they will all shut down. They learned from Chronus the price of giving their minions too much autonomy."

    Ella held up her hands.

    "I know this is all a lot to take in, and freaky as all hell. But if Cronus wanted to hurt us, or sell us out, he would have already. Even if they can't send units to the surface, Zeus could still dig us out with capital weapons if he suspected we were working with Cronus. We have a slim chance of making it home, and warning everyone back home about the war that is coming."


    Ẅ͉̺̱̰̳̻̥́̐̃̾͘H̛ͫͬͩ̈́A̺͈̙̘ͩ̊̑̿ͭͮ͐Ț̪̻͍̖̇̀͂ͨ̃̈́ͦ ̭͕̐ͥ̚P̣Ṛ͈̩͎̳͍ͨͥͥ̐́̽̚Ô̰͓̦̺̔ͩ͡O̪̙̠̤͙̼̯͗F̖̦̳̘̙͋ ̩̜ ̩̋͆D̢͍ͩͦ̿̍̽̿O̮̲̟̻͙̜̓̀̾ͤ̓̒͋ ̧̦̫̗̯̖Y̲ͦ̓̅̽̏̉̿O̥͖ͥ͛͛́Ư͚̜͑ͬ͛̑̓ͥ́ ͙͓̺̘̿̌ͪ͌̇̄̅͟R̷̝͇ͩ͆̿̀̓E̷̜̗̿̽ͧQ̯̯͈̞̗Ű̥̟̳I̻̲̹̺̍ͬR̊ͣ̋ ͉͇̜͔ͤ̔Ē͍̳̥͉̹̝ͅ ̭̇ͩ̈́ͫ͌̂ͪ͘F͈͓͉͙̪̩̙̂R̜O͌͊̐ͩͦ̄҉͎͔̻͉̹̰Ḿ̘̻̘ ̵̽̌M̘̋E̸͍͓̖̖?̘̼̜͙̪̼̂́̂
    Last edited by dakkagor; 04-16-2019 at 08:52 PM.

  3. #103
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    "Why have you not already provided these people the plans for such a device?" Iona asked.

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    "I am only a Gamma. For what you are suggesting, we need a stand-alone node under the supervision of a Beta. Possibly a cluster. We could isolate nodes on the ship, but most of it is overrun. We would need some way of clearing the infection from their systems and to keep them clean."
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  4. #104
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    Ť̢̖͙̤̣̃̀̌̍͛̎͟͝͠ͅH̟͎̻̱̦͑́̿̃͘͡͝ͅĖ̶̠͎͉͈̀̍̀̔̆̈́̆͘ͅȲ̛ ̨̧̝̻̤̪̮̾́̉͊̔͊̿ H̵̻̙̜̲̼̬̦̪̯͛̄̑̅͝ͅA̗͚͎͚͍̗̹̺̋͛͗̓̽̾̽͟D͔̣͙̙͉̤͑̀͋̂̈̾̑͟͡ ̶̘ N̖͎̻͕̭͒̆̿̅̿͑͊͟͞Ọ̢̜̙͉̩̉̂́̓̔̈́̓͌ U͓̼̺̪̭̪̭̯̩͙͌̅͊̑̚͠S̨͖̖̪͉̙̖̬̐̍͌́͊͂̑͘͡ͅE̬͇̬̎̂͋͂̌̎͐̂͜͢ ̶̧ F̛͇͕̤̪͗̉̒̐̀̅͒͜͠͠Ǫ̛̠̱̰̳̙͇̂̿̍͌̀̂̄͡R̭̞̪̦͋̋̀̿̐̄́̚͘ ̷̙͢ Ṭ̴̨̢͉̗̭̫̀͛́̊̆̓͋̀̊͘Ḩ̨̛̫̯̗͙͊̊͐̄̈́͛͌̃͠Ẽ̴͕̣̦̦̘̬̿̽̇͌͟ M̶̡̧̻̲͓͙̝͗͑̒̀̐͘͞͡͠͞ T̶͚̲͙͔̯̠͋̊̋̈̿H̡̲̘̖̳̼̘̾̊͑̅̀͒̄̀͡͝Ȇ̵̞͇̤̥̣̩̜͚̑͋̊͋̕͜N̓ ̧͓͚̦͚̬̩̅̈͗̉̑͌̕.̶̧̢͚͙̫̟̪͇̽̈́̐͋̆͘͟͠͡ N͙̗̦̜̫͉̤̣͒̅̔̊͑͐̿͒͗O̴͔͈̘͙̮͑͊̾̋̃̀͌͜W̨̘̠͖̼̟̓̅̆̒̀̇̀ ͚ T̹̲̲̟̦͗̆̌̎́̍̆Ḥ̷̖̤̼̰̤̠̹͇̗͋̅̂͛̓̓͡Ę̜͇̰̰̞̜̗̓̆̈́̉̒͋͠͡ ̗̤Y̴̡̩͚̣͇͔̲̦̰̜͊͐̊̽̃̃̐ D̬̤̫̥̹̫̹͚̀̂̈́̈́͑̚͟ͅŌ͓̤͕̥̲͉͍̥̋̈́̄͜͠.͖̻̠̪̦̯̳́̎̐̊̒͛̉̈́̐͘ ̷̺
    ̭̭̥̞̤͙͕͉̝̽̂̂̓̄̅̚̕ͅ

    ̧̭͔̗͓̽̂̐̎̄́̒̔̕͜T̷̤̪͙̻̺͚̀̈́͛͆̑̎̂͗͝Ó̸̝̤̜̼͓̱͖͛̌̋̆͐͜Ỹ ͓͎͖͈̜͓̳̔̃̃͡͝.̶̨͔͚̠̣̩̓̈̄͆̍͗̂ T̨̳͉͍̬̤̏̒̉͘̕Ơ̢͉̦̹̝̞̙̜̱͐̓̕̕͞Y̴̧̝̼̰͙̅͌̏̊͒͝ Ò̵̧̮̹̭͔̹̜̺́̆͂͢͡F̡̤̠͕̥͛̄̈́̍̿͘͟͜ T̸̢͎͕̤̪̝̩͌̂̇̅̎̾̌̚͠͡H̨̘̹̻̬̭̰̠̐̉̽̓͑̍̿͘͝E̼̩͍̳̱̽̊̒͌̇͞͠ ̸ D̶̢̛͔̩͓̫͋͋͛̂͜ͅĒ̵̢͇̻͉͔̝̹͗͛̑͐̌͘̕A̦̤̺̝̱̬͛̽͊͗͋̀D̛̍͆͐̉ ̛̱̫͖͇͙̝̘͒̐.̴̡̛͙̮͚̝͚̯̩͌̅͋́͌̈͆̕͟͢͝ S̡̢̠̖̞̣̰̗̱͋̌̅̀͢͝P̶̼͉͍̲̙͈̔̃̽͂̋͠͝͡Ȇ͎̟̹̺̘͇̹͂̔̑̋͐̐̈́̾͠ ̴͟͜Å̴̛͔̦̳̳͇̬̟͛̆͞K̩͕̘͓̩͈̊́̿̄͜͡͞E͍̤̱͎̺̖̯̫̊̈͋̋͗̒͒͟͞ͅ Ȓ̡̨̘̮̩̤̬̟̊̍̄̕͜͡ F͖̙̼̖̮̙͎̤͓̜̓́̓̌͋̓̏̽̓O̷̞̼̱̞̰̅̅̀̇̑̀̿̕͢Ṛ̖̻̱̋͂̆̅̌̕͝͞ͅ ̸͜ Ņ̧̧̗̹̤̥̮̼͈̌̑̎̀̈͂̚͡Ō̷̫̻͙̭̘̤͙̣͎̎͌̌͂̃̕͢ Ő̸̻͔͖̺̥̱̗̬͇̂̅̊̆̈́͜͠Ń̬͉͈̮̠͆̄̍̑͐͗̕E͓͕̭̻͙͎̥͌̐̎͊́͌̍͋͞ ͓̜.̴̧̟͔̳̤̲̻̏̑̔̅̋̽͞͞ Ŷ̴̧̲̲̮̣̌̀̄͝Ǭ̵̪̻͓̮̇͊̑̅́̃̃͆̍ͅƯ̡̨̳͉͙̓͒̈́̀́̎͊̍͗͢ ̩͙ L̤͚̮̺͎̿͂̑̓̚I̸͍̹̫̟͕̝̥̪͚͆͒̇͆̚͟͝S̢̤͇̟̣̫̫̈́́̓͋̀͌̓͜͠T͛͝͞ ̷͉̟̘̬͖͎̗̔̿̉͟É̮̠̝͓͍͖̽̈̈̚Ṋ̢̡͓̘̫̬̜̜́̓̈̓͟͝͞ B̶̨͎̥̻͙̲͖͚̳̍̔̓̇͐͠Ư̥̤̭̜͍͂̈͊̌̋̕̕͡T̮̝͕̙͂̂́͛̆̓͊̇͞͝ ͔͟ D̨̡̛̘̺͉̫̼̥͍͋̑̏̋̎̓̽͘ͅÖ̭̬̻̺͎́̿̒̿͂̀̀́ Ň̸̡̤̙͍̣̟̂̔̐͗͟͞͡Ŏ̵̡̳͕̗͉̙̪̾̀̉͛̇̃̿̚̚T̰̪̯̑̈́͗̀̇͐̏͂̽͠ͅ ̷̺̭̻̯ H̷̪̫̮͙̳̗͓̐̅̿̀̍̇̊͆E͍̞̖̮̦̠̱̾̋̅͛̍̇͢Ą̻͕͈͎̝̰͙͒͋̆́͗̋͟͝͞ ͅR̩̭̯̺͕͊̔̑̇̿̀̈́͑͆̌͢.̸̨̢̜̟̹̱̳͉̑͆́̆̅̄̕͡ͅ Y̷̧̢̘̗̙̰͙̓̄̎́̽͌̿͂̐̇͢Ȍ̷̠̦̭̲̫͓̭̅̾͋͛͗̑͝Ų͚̘͋̒̈́̔͐̚͢͝͝ ̸̹͜


    Ų̰̙̪̖̽̀̇̎̃̽̾͋͗N̴̨̬̮̥̰̟͗̊̂̇̿̿͐͑ͅḐ̢̡̦͓͕̳͔̂̄͛̔́̀̑͑E ̶̡̦̫̟̲̮̝͕̍̍͂̌̂̎͜͢R̛̘̫̗̫͚͐̍͊͛͜͞S̢͖̝̼̑͑͑̀̋͟͢T͎̈͌͐̆͂̌ ̡̢̢̞̘̰̬̥͢Ą̪̦̣͓̜̅͒̃́̄̅͜͞N̷̰̩͉̩̮̔̿̎̀̋D̨̯̱̪̮͚͑̽̆̀̽̅͡ ̴͢,̴̢͕̖͔͙͉͔̂̋̅̀̂́͢ B̴̛̟̫̞̟̘̝̬͇̩̓̒̾͋͐̅̆̎ͅƯ̡̹̗͚̞̙̝͋͌̋̈͐̑̚͜T̲̙̗͒̇̽̋̂͑̀͝ ̧̬͖̞͔ D̢͖̘͎̳͈̰͋͂̀̇͋̓̈͂̂̕͟͟Ǒ̵̡̻̥͍̞͎̬̳̼̘̑́̊̂̉͊͡͝ Ǹ͚̜̗̝͈̬̂̀̊̿̚̕Ơ̷̮̞̮̭̎̌̍̇̉̌͗̕ͅṪ̡̧͍̲̭̝̜͚́̽̈̀́͋̇̒̑͟ ̵ Č̢̦͚͙̰͎̼̝͈͆͛̾̕͢͝O̷̪̮̭̟͉̭̽̍͌̏͆̿̊̚̕͟M͈̦̟͍̈͊̌̒̽̎̈̓̃͢ ̵̠Ṕ̘̙̤̻̍̅̂̐̇͘ͅR̡̘͔͎͈̘̜̙̂̒̀͐̋̾É̵̛̦̹͓̩̇́̏̄͡͝ͅȞ̍̌͠ ̸̨͉̦̱̬͔̲̩̣͊̉͐͘͘͠E̡̢̙̻̖̔̏͂͒̎͒̓̚͢͡͝N̹̳̟̣͕͉̗̈͋̈̆͆̚̚͘͡ ̩̟Ḑ͚̫͓͇̺̖́̎̑͑̆̓.̷̧̜͈̹̩̜̭̅̏̉̏̚͘͝͡ P̵̨̨͇̱̪̩̖̱̲̾͐͊͂́̓́̕͠Ư̷̢͎̜̟̮̽̈́̂̋̑͢͝͞͠P̨̛̯̘͕͑̔͋́͌͝͡ ̰͓̟̩̝͕P̶̪̙̻͈̞̟̠͖͗̏͂̀͜͟͝͝Ḙ̥͉͙͚̫̙̬͛̎͛͂̿̉̔̋̀͟͠T͛͌̄̉̄ ̨̨̞̪̳͚͉͛̆́͘̚͜͟ͅ.̡̼̹̗͓̃̍̒̀̏ͅ P̡̨̮͚̭͖̬̩̰̠̃̇̋́́̿̐Ļ̜̤͉̠̦̠̯͗̽̔̿̐͢͞ͅÀ̡̢͓̟̝͇̉̀̐̀̓̆͂ ̼͈Y̧̥̱̭̱̊̃̀͂͒̊̈͝T̴̛͔̞͉̪̣̲̓̉̌͌͜͞H̛̦̺̯͎̣̙̗̘̀̂̎̏̈́̆͘̚̕ ̮̩Ì̸̧̛͉̼̭̪̥̝̞̥̇̌̂͞ͅN̸̲̖͕͎̟̺̆̊͋̿́̚̕͘͜͞͝G͛͐̐̒̾̂̚͞͞͡ ̷̘̭̥̼̝̤̠.̴̨̧͇̘̗̆̎̑̿̅͟͠
    ̸̖̥͈͈̘͓̊͒̑̀̃͘̕

    ̡̭̯̖̬̽̋̋͆̀́̄̑͢O͕͓͙̜̯̟͖̫̱̒̃͊̓̒̄̉̒N̴̨̬̗̼̳͖̓̎̃͐͢͡C͂̉̍ ̵̟̘͚̬̮͖͚̀͆̇͛̕͜Ę̸̡̛̱̖̝̳̟̗̽̆́̉͘̚ Z̨̦̜̲̘̭̙̯̐̃́̅̅̾̓̀̕Ȩ̷͓̦̲͓̏̏̉̍̃͐͊͂͆Ù̢͈̖͔̺̥̾̈̇̀̐͗̌͟ Š̟̣̲̘̲̋̽̊͂̽̽͂̇͐ I̴̡̛̬̭̤̐̿̽́͌̎͞ͅS̺̗͓̫͖̾̄͆͆͌͒̐͐̑́ Ḑ̧͖̞͈̦̞͋̒̽͒͆̐̚͡É̵̢̜̞̪͔́͒͆͝Ȁ̡̢̹̙̤͔̯̻̍̓͛̌̑D̓͊̒̾͋͠ ̶̨͇͇̥̟̯̻̬̆̂͗͜,̸̢̛͉͎̬͍͔͇͛̊͆̑͆͌͛̕͡ T̨̛̛̰̭̜̹̰̔̔̃̎̋͟H̵̛͔̹̱͆̃̓̒̀̔̂͢͝͞ͅÈ̡̧̢̹̗̞͚̬̫̅̎̃̋̿͝͝ ̼ P̶̡͖̹͖̞͗͊̎́́͂̈́̊͡͞A̷͔̣̬̙̳͕̱̤͈̓͗̀̿̏̈́̊̄̅̂T̼̣͕͍̊́́̾̓͋͝ ̷̧̖̺̹̩̯H̡̨͉̺̩͇͆̓̐̏͛̽́̌̚͝ Ĭ̶̲̜̰̖͓͚͇͚̓͒͒̈́͊̃̓̕͢͢͞S̴̢̻̠̦̹̽̃̍͗͐̄̕ C̴̨̩͍͍̤̱̞̒̋͌́̕L̶̝͕̫͉̜͔̙̞̄̍̎̋͞E̠̻̞̞̰̩̱̲͉̖̎͊̆̋̕Ȃ͆̕͡ ̟͉̞̦̮̱̆̎͊̾̌͢͢Ŗ̡̻̯͍̟̪̖̏̽̃̅͟͞͞.̼̠͖̭̘̤͌͛͛́̐̂͂͢͡͡ ͇̬ N̳̞͙͕̫͕͍͔̓͆̂̃̍͜Ȯ̧̢͎͔̰̫̉̿́̎̽̿̔͐ M̸̡̫̜̘̯̂̈́̂͛͘͠Ṏ̢̨̝̺̩̫̝͊͐̏̍̀̀̚͢͞R̛̗͇̲͕͖̩̱͓̽͐͛͌̐E̋̆ ͓̣̩͇̙̞͍̭͙̑̄͛̍̚͟ Î̧̢̛̦̠̠̬̲̃̿͂͑͒̓̕Ņ̸̡̡̬̹̥͈̪̘́̀̎̓̎ͅF̸̱͙͓̰̤̽͆̌̈̽́̈͠E ̶͈͚̤͉̫̮̋̑̀̒̓́͘͟C̴̢̡̛̝̗̯̉̾̿̓͢͞T͕̩̖͖̯̣͈̫͓̍́̄̊̀͘͠I̒͋͝ ̴̧̛̯̣͕̱̞͕͕̫͛̂̽͘͘͢͡Ơ̵̧͙͖̖͕͇̺̙̳̈́͆͆́͑͋̿̾N̰̔̀̈͒͛̌͆́̚͡ ͔̘̳̻̲̘͍͎ O̱̱͈̬̒͆̂̆̚͜F̩̪͖̜͔͋̀̔͗͂̋̒͡ S̶͔͈̘̬͎̮͛͋̀̀̄̉̎͢͝͠H̸̨͎̱̝͙͈̟̮͒͂͐̌͑́͠I̩̯̜̬͐͑̒̉̈́̈́͆̕̚͢ ̴̤̰P̸̗̤͖̥̲̌̄̓́̍͐̌̕ͅ B̨͔̠͍͚͑͗̏͒͠Ơ̶̢̹̳͎̘̯̾̑̀͂͌A̡̢̘͔̒̀̍́́͒̾́͟͜͞ͅR̽͂͐̊̆̑͂ ̱̤̞̞͔̺̯̗͐̚͢D̸̼̘̻͈̜͍̤͙̈́͋̌̊̽̍͡ Ņ̴̢̙̪̖͎̩͚̬̑̆̔̌͐̀͗͘Ọ̲͉̩͓̍̒͒̾́͠D̸̟͖̠̣̲͖͌̾͒̇͊͑̊̀͋͠E ̶̢̺͍̠̘̰̬̅̏̐͆̚̕̕͜͝͠S̖͓̭̙̙̄̄̌́̕͢͠͝.̧̟̬̜̪͍̪̓̀̆̕͡͞ ̭̙ N̰̲̬̰̳̊̍͊̐̓̇̒ͅǪ̡̳̙́̇̇͒̕͟͞ M̴̧̛̹̤̱̪̗͔̩̏̏̈̄̋̍͊̒Ǒ͓̰͔͍̭̞͎͍͋̍̀͘ͅR͙͎̯̃͋́͊̀͐̈́̉͋͌͟ͅ ͕͇͇E̜̹̱̩̮̽̀́̉̈͢͠͠


    B̛͇̮̝̰̹̥͕͛̿̒͐̎̍̔Ȩ̶̛͔̟̠̔̍̑͌͛̚ͅR̷̨̡̨̫̖̻̟̓̇͂̄̇́̚͘͘͟S ̢̧̥̲̮̜̭̝̾̑͐̿̈ͅE̙̺͍̫̐̌̅̈͟͜͠R̢̦̖͙͔͙̾̈́̐̐͘K̢̟̭̪̭͖̄̉̐̃͡ ̢͈͜Ę̵̺͖̩͔͖͓̬̉͑̿̈́͋̂Ȓ̛̠̟̮͕̟̩͇̦͉͋̈́̿̐͘ D̢̳̘͔̠̹̝̠͍̒͒͐͊͌̇̋̕R̢̺͓̺̠̹̬̩̰̅͋̔͂̍̽Ǫ̛̗̜͍̫̈́̇̎̊̊͛͌͢͜ ̥̗͈Ṉ̷̹͇̻͚̦͎̲̥̮́̄͊́̋́͐̆̚̕É̴̛̛̩̠͎̺͍̮̰̺̍̉̀̋̕̕̕S̀̽̂͗ ̼̼̹̻͓̩͛̐́̋.̵̢̟͈̮͉̰̳̰̟͒̑̋͒̈ İ̷̘̩̘̦̻̭͇̦̏̌͋̃̉̓̄̒̕ W̯̮͚͉͎͈̾͒̔̎̐̃͆̅͌̑͜I͍̠͙̭̮͋͛͛̇̚͘͝L̸̡̩̞̙̞̪̜͊͋̃̋̉̓̑͒̏͐ L̼̻̦̺̙̲̉͗͊̏̚͜ G͈̮͓̭͓͍͇̹͋̒̋͋̊̕͜I̸̛͈̲̳̥̦͗͆̿͜͠V̛͇̪̖̖̟͆͌͑͑͗͊͌͘͡E͛͌̂̂ ̡̟̼͓̫͓͐͊͗͢ Ỹ̞͉̠̦̠̝͍̰̱̎̐͛̉Ǫ̴̢̧̥̰̝̹͇͚̓́̅͐͂Ù̢̡̗̩͓͍̣̰̣̊̿̎͐ T̷͎̼͓͚͕̓̐͑͋͊͠H̢̭̺̱̝̱̼͇͉͓̉͗̌̌̽̋̒̒̈́͞Ḝ͍̪̪͎͂̽̾́̍̔ ̙̤̘ T̵̢̘͕̮̜̬̣̾̆̚̕͝Ơ͙̯͓̘̩̯͐̈̂̅͐̽͋͠Õ̜̣̺̙̎̃̈́͐̏̓͐͢L̇̂̇̍͘ ̸̨̡̟͔̻̹S̴̡̧̫̯̹̦̬͙̥̎̃̑̾̅̎̈̒͠ͅ.̡̡̺̥͇͎̰͕͒̉͒̽̐̒̓̕ Y̴̡̖̮͈̻͕̫̬͊͒̐̊̇̓̃̏O̶̤̲͉͓̦̣̊̽̾͐̕͟͝Ư̢̛̗̗̭͇̠̬̓̍̉̈́́̚͟ ̵͕ M̴̪̘̣̙̬̳̻͎̄͋̾͌̐Ư̸̡̺̯͎͓̯͉͙̼̈͂̓͗̒̓͑͘̚S̝͈̱̻̘͕͐̎͛̕͟͝͡ ̸̠̗Ţ̩̤̤̭̭̼̒͒̈͒͝͝͞ Ȋ̭͇̘̀̾́̆̈́̂͢͟͡͞͠M̵̭̥̩̖̠̈́̌̑̏͋̎P̢̼͔̥͔̒̍̀̓̈̏̚͘͢͜͠͠L̾͝ ̴̫͙̪̲̝̹̠̂̊̆̿̉E͇̫̥̤͎̼͕̰͋̎͊͛̓ͅM̷̱̯̭͕̘̹͉͐̔͌́̔͘͟E̒̀̅͘͝ ̵̡̦̪̬̦̙͓̪̓̂̐͊͝ͅN̢̛͚̘̘̄̈́̿͆͒̐̈͐͡ͅͅT̫̰͔̅͆́͂̒͒̐̀͂̏ ͈̗ Ţ̲̰̖̪̙̮̹̄͑̅̑͊͊́̈͡͠Ĥ̶͓̙͎̳̏̈͗̋̃͊͢͢E̳̳̼̟̝̓̽̔̅͐̔͞ ̸̖ P̢̰͕̜͖̺̩̭͗̒̂̑͆͒̾͠L̤̗̪̩̗̩͆̃̇͝͞ͅĄ̠͉̥͕̈́͗́̏͝N̓̇͌͒̇̾̉͠ ̧̨̖̟̘͔.̷̛̣͙̘̺̼̘͚͇̼̱̈́͆̋̏̃̆̈͡
    ̴̫͉̪̟̦̜̟̅̍̔͗̃̏͌̋̐

    ͈̰̣̘̠̣̦̺̥̀͗̔͐̌̌Ų̵̫͈̭̯̈͒͆̍͗̂͒̚Š̢̢̞̭̱͍̲͕͗̐̓̉̑̚͝͝ͅE ̶̙͖͇͚͓̟̪͖̲͂̐̂̒̽̍́͞ Ḩ̸̜̙͙͎͉̙́́̓͑̽̃̍͒͐͂͟Ḭ̢̣̦̦͖͍̝̞̣͋̒̑͛̀̍̿̈́͘͝S̭͋͑̾̇̏̓͠ ̶͕̘̭̠̰̙̲͢ S̷̨̛̱͕̩̩̗͎͌̃̓̏̉͢͠͠Ù̴̢̯̺͔̫̯̫̆͌̓͗͌͆̒͢͟ͅḆ͇̯̔̀̉̊̀̕̚͢ ̵̝̹͕V̡̛̮̣̜͔͇̈̀̌͊̌̓̈̅E̴̡̲̼̦̰͖̲̳̱͆̍͌́̀̉̽̍͌͂Ȓ̜̣̓́̍͆͞ ̴̝̖̳͇̲͙̥͟Ţ̦͎̳̟͔̖̆̍̊͐͛́Ȩ̴͚͙̥̼̅́̌́͟͝D̛͙̜̭͒͛̔́̀ ̜͜ D̷̡͎̣̩̯̲̜̫͗̀̀͆̚͡Ṛ̶̟̺͇̗͐̀̽͆̏̃̄̒̇͝ͅO̵̢̡̼̼͎͒̇̋͗͢͠ͅN̍ ̷̨͖͉͎̥̰͂̃̈͘̚͟E̠̝͓͓̞͔͑̓̎̂͟͠Ș̺̭̂̍̍̉̊́̅͢͝ͅ.͒̓̇̇͑̅̅̈́̕ ͖͙̙̺͓̯̦͂͢ S̢̧͖̺͍̻͈̣͈̎̇̽͗̅E̪̙̙͓̗̍̊̈͒̎́̈́̓͜͝Ń̢͍̠͕̮̗͈̫͎͋̿̓̈́̀̂̈́͛ D̵̲̝̙͈̗͕͙͐̑̾͑̇͟ͅ Ỳ̸̦̺͕̳̩͍̖̤̿̍̉̑͟͡Ơ̢͙͙̰̟̓̉͋̀̏͘U̸̧̻̘͕̺͙̠͋̃̾̏͗̓̔͒͡R͂ ̷͉̹͖̿̈́̌́̍̏̓̃͟ͅ B̷̨̩̘̙̯͕̠͇̈͆́͒̽͛̾̚̚͡Ò̸̡̠̰̘̻̀̑̍̇̀͟M̠̮͇͖̮̈́̒́̇̏͛̾̊͝ͅ ̢͉̜Ḇ͓̪̺̹̦̤̋̍̋͐̍͑̒̑͘͝ T̵̨̖͕̲͕̪͐́́̀͊̊͠Ơ̫̝̲̩͈͑͑̎͌͆̈͋͆͘͢ͅ H̶̨̢̳̤͙̻̠̤͗̇͒̀̋͛͊͊̕̚I̴̢̱͎̳̱̗̓͊̌̄̉̀̈̈S̙͎̦͙̮͙̃̄̃̀̋̂͡ ̙̹ V̧͔̭̼͍̝̼͍̗͂̈̒͋̍ͅÈ̢̢̡͔̗͉̳̺̝̔̕͟͡͠S̶̡͙̭̣͔͕͗̄̐͑̔̉̄͘͘͢ Ş͍̺͇͔̩̯̭̺̼͑̾́́̐̾͗̆́̚E̡̜̮͖͎͓̪̞̯̖͊͑̒̀͂̚͞Ĺ̤͚̻̬̉̌̀̓̚ ̵̭̼.̷̼̘̺̺͙̪̖̩̑͆͋͒́̽͟ A̵̡̡̪͈̹̩̼̮̾́͐͆̽̍̒̕ͅN̸̡̨͚̖͈͍̭̤̱͛̾̎͛̍̃̾͘͟͠D̨̛̀̓̓̐̇̅̚ ̨͙͕̫͖̲̱͜ K̷̨̢͎̯͉̳̦͐̀̾͆͡I̴̢̛̜̟̯̰͈̲̟͈͗̅͛̓͊͢͞L̶̢̟̲͓̫̰̀̋͗͡͝͝L͛͊ ̴̧̧̖̼̼̲̰͉͆͋̿̒̇̾͡ͅͅ Ȟ̴̨͙̟̮̯͈̺̠̫̓̾̄͊͘̚͡͞Í̶̢̡̧̢̡͉͓̘̦̇̔̒͘͟M̼͍͌͗̎͑͒̿̏͋͗̑ ͙̫̼̩,̗̭͈̦̬͔̩̗̘̊͗̇͒̇ Ǫ̼̼͔̱͉̪͓̦̊̽́̍̀́̃̅̕͟Ņ̴̤͔̞̱̰̩̥̝͊̌͑͋͗͋̀̚͟C̛̟̱͌̎̍̃̑̄ ̷̗̤̳̤̼͢ͅͅE̝̗͈̪͚̘̐̉̅̈́͢͠ A̟̘͖͈͚̦̲̺̥͕̓͊̎̀̍͠͠N̷̥͚̞̳̱͈͇͔̏͑̇͂̿ͅD̺̤̞͚̪̪̈́͆̔̅̕̚͘͜͠ ̴ F̷̠̲̺̭̱̤̞͇̥͔͒̐́͒̍̈́͗͠O̹̰͓̜͇͖̠̭͈͛͂͌̾̑̇͘̚̚͢R̢̙̱̻̓̈̀͡͡ ̶̨̣̯̯̣̮ A̸̼͕͉͓̼̓̊͆͒͒̓̚͡͡L̸̹̗͎̘̫̳̗̂̓͒̂͘͝L̨̨̛̠̩̺̪̺͐̑̐̒͒̊͐͑͝ͅ ̸̬.̷̧̬͎͖̼̮̤͋͐͛͊̊̑͐͊̄̃͜͢



    The monster swung its head to focus on Iona alone.

    W̧̬͉̜̳͍̱͎͓̔̍̂̕͞Ì̢̡̛̮̯̘͆̎̑͛̑̚͡L̛̲̪̟̦͚̱̰̫̤͌̽̀͑Ĺ͗̾́ ̧̣̠̻̟̇͋ Y̧̡̱̟̟̅̆͐̊̏͛͛̆͊͟͢Ó̗͙͚̩̱̘̀͊̄̔Ų̛̬̯̲͙̞̠̬͐̾̈͆͋͆͘͝ ̯̱ C̶̮͍̩̭̱̫̍́̈́̓̍̂͟A̷͖͍̪̠̜̗̓̽͑̑́̋̓̃R̮̝̗͍̪̱̈̆͋͒̿̾̆́͢͞͠ͅ ̴R̸̛̲̭̱̘̈́͗̏͌̚ͅỲ̵̧̞̙̯̼̬͎̌̃̃͗͐̒̔͌̕ I̢̫̘̜͖͕͈͌̈͒̉́͊̆͘͡Ṭ̸̼̱̭̪͋͋̈̀̏͐̕͞͠,͓͔̌̉̈̿̍̀́̿̀͢͞ ͍͜ O̶̡̨̜̘͚̯̦̮̮̤͆͛̌̈͑̾̀͋͘̕R̶̻̙̗̪̭̪͋̃̽̑̆́̑͘̚͜͡ W̢̨͔̟̙̰̬̖̻̒̓̎̆̅̊ͅI̖͚͚͉̜͓̻͈͙͋͋̆̅͞Ḽ̰̲̖͚̦̞̤̈́̉̀́̈́̽̀͘͝ ̷L͙͚͓͎̭̲̾̌͊̄̽͗͜͟͞͠ T̨̘̼̘̪͚͛̉͆̈́͒͢ͅH̡̡̼͓͚̤͕͇͚́̾͛̒̊̾̄̕͜E̮̻̘̿̍̋̇̇̑͂̋̇͘ ̴̲̹ D̪̦̘͇̫̐̂̔͌͐͆̏͒̊̀R̡͓̬̼͒̊̐́͛̔̒͢Ǫ̴͕̲͇̙̦̝̈͂̎̊̑̇̔̏̈́͞N̈́ ̵͔̲͕͔͇̓̓͋̾͜͟E̷̛̻͚̱̝̹͇͛̂̏̊̍ T̢̡̗͇̰͈̞̋̿̍̇̓̊̋̚͠É̡̛̼̬͈̹̱̦͛̅̇͑̚͞͡Ņ̙͉̭̬̘͓͐͒͋̌̆̕͜D ̵̧̛͔̦͍̟̗̣̻̲̜̊̑̑̑̈́̆͝E̲̼͍̼̳̣̒́̌̉̔̕͢R̨̟͕̗͍͐̀̈̉͋̀͠͠?͒͐ ̨̨͓͈̲̼̌̉͌͗̇̓̀̕ Ơ̵̮̗͍̮͉͗̄͋͛̄̈͆̽͜R͚̲̺͍̳̀̀͛̀͊͟͟͝ͅ Ẅ̸͍͓̻̜̬͔̜̜́͐̓̒̽͠Í̸̗̜̟̰̱̟̺͛͊̽͒͞L̗̩͎̤̳͈̮̬͋̈́̌́̏̂̎͊̚L ̶͈̲͂͗̓͑̽̑́̒͟͢͟͞ Ỵ̵͖̮͖̹̹̻͉͑̂̀̃̓̉̿̕͟͞Ơ̸̛͇̝͚̹̝̼̂̿͊̀̑̚͟͜U̖͊̇́̐̈͊̄̇̑̋ ̧͈̰̳̝͔̤̝̜ G̡͉̮͓̳͈̪̱͑̂̒̈́̔̕͡͡I̸̧̧̢͉͔͔͕͛̏͆̎̓̒̃͟͠͠V̖͎̪͓͙̏̿̐̆͛̆̌ ̨E̶̲̥͙̭̽̂͌̾̈͢ M̵̡̥͈̤͈͌̎́̾͌͂̚͠͝E̡͔̮̠̤͑̽͑̀̈́͐̈́̚͢͜͜ T̡͍͍̯͕̖̆̓̄̎̆͠͡H̛̞͕̻̭̱̾̊̍̂̊͜͜͞͠Ė̢̛̱̯͎̻̙̦̣̀͛̍͋̊̑̾̚ͅ ̴ F̡̣͇̫͔̘̥͔̌͌̾͌̓͂̐̆͌ͅǪ̶̳̥̞͎͖͎̺̻̱͋̑͆͒̕͘Ơ̢̞̲͉̘̻̈́͌̽͆̕ ̧̺͖̖L̶̛̤̬͙͇̠̫̇̏͊̚̚͟͜?̝̭͚̠͚̠̥̮͙̈̂̆̈̄͘͜

  5. #105
    `、、ヽ`☂ヽ`、ヽ`、ヽ
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    "Are the berserkers aboard the Elcano merely Zeus' drones?" Iona asked. Was the Alpha Prime calling her a fool?

    "Why not make them all bombs and send them back to swarm like they reportedly swarmed aboard our ship?"

    A single bomb could do some damage. A lot of bombs could do a lot of damage.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  6. #106
    Domina Noctis
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    She struggled against Winters holding her a bit until finally elbowing her in the stomach. Then she stomped down on her foot and leaned forward throwing Winters over her shoulder. The Terrain landed right at Sayori's feet. Miranda turned to Ella looking between the group and Chronos. “Like hell you are letting this monster have me. Hear that? I don't give consent to whatever the hell this thing wants to do with me.” Miranda said, her eyes stopping on Ella. “You let this thing take me and you prove that the Lyre First movement right and the Concert is nothing but a lie. That they don't give a damn about anyone and their so called morals are a front.”


    Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away
    Cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through
    the barricades and reaching for the sun.

    We Are Warriors


  7. #107
    The Replicant
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    “And that is where we have to admit to a little bit of paranoia on the behalf of the military compliment.” Ella interrupted. “The captain insisted that there was a non-zero chance that whatever was on the other side of the gate was hostile. So we got the Concert to release a set of crust cracker WMDs to us. 100 megaton nuclear devices. Get one of those into the belly of the beast, and it’s all over. Even better, we think, and Cronus here has confirmed this, that all the collectors in this sector of space are controlled by Zeus.”

    “What exactly is Zeus?” Sayori asked, thinking of what Davvry had said about Alphas. “That thing we saw on the hanger deck?”

    Ella shook her head. “Think bigger. Zeus is the ship that is currently pulled up alongside ours. You probably got a look at the ugly motherfucker on the way down.”

    Sayori nodded and chewed her tongue, vaguely resentful at her own mistake.

    “The Berserker command platforms do not shrink down into bodies this size.” Ella went on, “Well, you know, unless it’s a punishment.”

    Sayori glanced up through the shield bubble at the shifting, agitated Cronus, speared to the floor by its own creations. “Okay. And if we destroy the super-cap...?”

    Ella nodded. “Kill Zeus, and they will all shut down. They learned from Cronus the price of giving their minions too much autonomy.”

    Sayori massaged a gloved palm with her thumb. “And the Gate will be safe?” Cronus had said it had six ‘children’. But if all the Berserkers in the system went down, they would have a chance to flee back through the Gate, and close it behind them before the others could follow.

    Ella stood immobile, not sharing the optimistic thought. “Maybe.”



    Their Sentinax speaker’s attempts to negotiate were suddenly interrupted when Miranda slipped out of Stratford’s grip and elbowed her in the stomach. Then she stomped down on her foot and leaned forward throwing Winters over her shoulder. The Terran landed right at Sayori's feet.

    Miranda turned to Ella looking between the group and Cronus. “Like hell you are letting this monster have me. Hear that? I don't give consent to whatever the hell this thing wants to do with me.” Miranda said, her eyes stopping on Ella. “You let this thing take me and you prove that the Lyre First movement is right and the Concert is nothing but a lie. That they don't give a damn about anyone and their so called morals are a front.”


    “Oh fuck this!” Sayori exploded, striding forward. “I’ll do it, you hear me!?”

    The oil-slick shimmer of Ella’s elemental-suit field forced her to halt, which gave her time to blink and realise (fuck) that yes, it had been her own voice that had just spoken. For a moment she wanted to step back, but stupid stubborn pride won out yet again, and a glance back at Miranda rekindled her anger.

    “I’ll do it.” she said again, biting down. “I’m quite sure Sinclair will put a bullet through my head if I do anything suspicious, right?”

    The gallows humour fizzled. She stood there, separated from the towering alien construct by the thin shell of the field, feeling suddenly very alone.

    Gaea leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes. (Did she feel alone too?) “Watch out for your decisions. Make them, by all means. But...you're gonna carry that weight.”

    (God, but she could feel that weight now.)

    No, Sayori realised. Gaia hadn’t been feeling alone - all in this shit together, she had said. Something that Sayori suspected Miranda and Stef were never going to learn. So who else was here to make the decision?

    She wanted to go home.

    Sayori curled her fists inside her suit gloves. Was that all it was? The crew, the Gate, the Berserkers, the threat to their home galaxy - despite all that, was her only motivation her frightened inner child who just wanted to make this waking nightmare stop?

    No. It might be just stubborn pride again, but she had promised Gaea. Help them get home. (I’m gonna fucking try.)

    She had promised Garrick too. She wondered what that clever bastard would make of this. Assimilating the knowledge of an alien god-machine would certainly rank up there with his experimental gamble with the rejuvenating nanobots. Science: poke things with sticks, and see how they react.

    Maybe that was part of it too. Just selfish curiosity - the same curiosity that had steered her towards her current career (Aren’t you embarrassed by how limited we are?), and that had been awed by the alien planet of cybernetic life.

    Sayori slowly unclenched her fists.

    She didn’t even know anymore. All she knew was that she had made her decision, and now she was going to carry the weight.
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 05-09-2019 at 05:01 PM.
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  8. #108
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    A human wanted to do the sharing? Curious.

    Unknown risks:
    Vulnerable to Cronus
    Vulnerable to Zeus
    Hybrid biosphere connection

    "And what will this do to her?" Iona asked, turning towards Cronus. "Will she need cybernetic nanites? Will she be vulnerable to attack by Zeus?"
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  9. #109
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    .
    .
    Ą̷͍̦̱̻̞͍̑̉̃̅̌̂͆ͅÇ̘̦̼̮̤͓̘̩̿̾̐̒̌̃̔̈͡C̡̰̘̱͒́̀̿̔͌͑̓͠ ̧̢̡͖E̴͈͈͎̦̗̭͆̅̽̐̉́̿͟ͅP̴̪̤̭̱̆̓̓͒̀ͅŢ̩͇̭̖̟̹͂̊̂̾͂̈́̋̚E ̴̨̛̛̖̩̝̱̎̏̽̽͒͗͠ͅḐ͇͈̭͎̭̋̍͛̐̏̾
    .
    .

    The shield failed as the massive construct smashed through it. It ignored the questions of Iona and dozens of metallic tendrils unfolded from the rents in its hull.

    .
    .
    Y̢̬͖̺̮̓̊̍͐̇͊̓Ó̴͈̺̟̫͕͇͖͚̻̃̿̍̓̑̓̿̚̚U̧̼̲̫̱͉͌͌̐̉̓̐͟͡ͅ ̸̩̫ W̷̡̞̮̪͚̱͖͙͈̆̒̍̒̈́̊̓͜͡Ī̴̢̤̻̟̱͖͙͈̜͓̏͌̀̆L͓̳̿͐̄̓̎͒́͢͠ ̷̧̨͜L̵̦̪͉̭̠̯͎͙̎̊͗͗̈̈́̌̽͞ B̴͙̺̣̩̖͙͂͐̀̈́͌̊͗̑̈́͆É̷̡͎̥̭͙̣̃̄̑̕ H̡͔̳̻̣͍͚̰͔̊̎͑̉̊̚ͅA͔̯̺̥͚̽̆̍͐̓̀̔R̛̲̹̤̺̼̯͚̱̂͒̀̃͜͢D̽̈̕ ̶̡̞͍͈͕̞̅͂̉̉͂E̵̛̲͖̦͕̳̫͆̇̋̀͜͞͠͡N̴̮̦̬͖̝̪̂̀̀̉̓͐̋̇͝E͛̾͋ ̨͇̮̜̮̫̍̓̎͒̋̈D̸̛̥͕͉̳̟̞̮̜̫̓̓́͐̓͢͞͞.͈̝̼͙̻̘̺͐͛̿̾̒̎ ̵͜ Y̵̨̥̼̦̭̦̱͆̈͋̆̄̕͢Ò̴̮̙̰̘̣̻̙̣͍̈́̒̔̍̌̕U̧̟̦̫̲̦̒̓̓̏̐̔̀͆̚ ̷ C̴̺̦͖̱̦͓̍͋̍͗͑̀͢͜͝͡A͕̣͎̺͚͖͂̌́̈͑̽̆͘͟͜R̨̧̟̪̥̩̟̎́̀̀͑͝͞ ̵͈͜Ŗ̸͕̤̲̮̬̳̤͔̯̈́̀̽̽̓͂͂Y̢̢̩̳͈͗̊̉͋͋́ M̵̡̦̼̱͍̭̫̯͉̃̋̌̈́̎́̍͟͡͡Y͙̝̫̰̲͊͑̐̀͑͒̚ Ķ̴̜̫̗̜̺͓͒͂̌̾̍͑͒̽̽͡N̡̗͔̼̱͚̹̲̿͑̿̕͘Ǫ̨̡̯͇͙͙̓̌̓̈̈́̀͘͟͜ ̫Ẅ̶̢̨̛̞̫̘͍͓̮͇̞͆̀̓̕̚͝L̛̥̥̯̗͈̅̇̿̃͆͂̈́̕͟͜͞Ê̗̰͋͑́̊̚͞ͅ ̱̥̼Ď̶̟̝̘̺͔̥́̃̍͂̾̋͋͐Ģ̮̱̬͚͖͓́̈̀̈̊̿Ḛ͙̩̊̀͌̌̍͗̚͞ ̸̝͇ T̶̲̗̲̒̓̅̉̾̀͌̾̽̇͜͟O̼̱̖̝͍̺̠͈̔̓̉͊̾̽͞ͅ Ţ̧̨̛͕̟̮̗̭̤̿̐̏̇̉̓͒̎͘H̰̝͙͓̞͋̋̃̿̋̓͒̋Ḙ̢͈̙̾̋̄̐̎̀̓̈́͟͠͠ ̹ S͙̤̪͉̺̮̺̍́͊̉͒͟P̳̤̜̜̬̗̗̜̳̐͐͛̕͘͘Í̢̛̯̹̼̘̟̩̃̊̀̓̍́͂R̾̏ ̫̗̙̟̜̏̊̇͑͞A̴̼̠̯͚͕̍̔̅̑́̿̾͌̚L̲̝͓̖̬̪̭̹̤͗̔̾́̆̄͗.̊̎̾̀̕̕ ̶̟͚̩͍̗̥̈́̎̈̌͜͟ Ỳ̢̡̨̥̼̭̱̅̐͑̿̿͋̔̄͟Ọ̷͉̜͈̊͋̂͘͢͡ͅŲ̞̖͕̘͇̣̙͋̄͒̓̆͂̎̏͜͞ ̵ W̷̨̢̨̮̘͚͙̮͋̆͗͑̈́̔̕͘͢I̧̡̘̟̝̩̣̎̎͛́̅͟L͖̹̬͈̭̫͛̽̓͂́̈́̒͌̚͝ ̵̘͜L̛̗̙̫͕͖̓͑͑̀͛͒̚͘͘ S̡̜̻̞͎̳̞̦͆͛̔͛̉ͅÀ̵̡̲͚͇͉͍̎̈̋͂̊͠͞V͕̩̜͔͋͊̓̏͛̎̕͟͝ͅE̍̌͆ ̻͇̺͔͂͑̎͢ Ÿ̴̢̰̭̩̟̣́͒́̅Ǫ̵̺̯̼̲̱͔͕̽̌̄̎̿͜ͅỤ̸̩̙͈̣͇̹̯̏̽͋̒͒̍̈́͐Ṙ ̧̥̮̰̮̱͛̈̑̑̒͝͞ P̡̛̤̬̰̹̫͍̯̎̽̄̃̽Ě̵̳̠͎̥͙̦̓͑͋͝O̸̝̫̪͕̲̔́̈́͂́̄̒́̊Ṕ̛̚̕͠ ̷̜̦̥͙̥̱L̶̻̻͚̦̗̞̖̊̍̇̌̔̍̅͗͑ͅẸ̭͔̬͍͖͕͂̅̀̍̇̄͊̅̚͜͟͞.̽͋͗ ̴̤͍̭̹̖̋́̀̆̿̊͠ͅ
    .
    .

    For a second Ella yelled no, raising a gun to fire, before she was swatted aside. The tentacles snatched up Sayori, and the vast grinding maw opened in front of her like a lotus flower made of industrial machinery and diamond tipped drills.

    .
    .
    Ȳ̷̭͓͙̻̭̜̒̿̅̊̇͢͜Ơ̵̳̩͍̜̹̼̲̙̺̋̊͗̓́̅̓Ų̭̥̜̍̈̍̎̋̈̍ ̤͇̻ Ẃ̟̬̭̝͙̙̭͓̺̈̃̄̕͞Ȉ̸̡̜̣͇̖̦͆͂̌͐̓͢ͅͅĽ̰͎͓̠͙̣̻̰̂̀̇̚̕͜L ̶̢̢̟̩̫̃͊͒̊͑͌̕͟͡͡ F̱͈̭͕͈̎̈́̍̓́̋̒̕͞Ę̢͍̠̤̹̹̆̇̓͗̀͋̾͜͡͞E̡̛̪͍̩̩̠͉̍́̈̃̓͜L͆ ̴̺͈̹͙̥̞̘̯͛̆̇́̏͢ͅ S̨͔̰͔̳̤̖͚̥̃̑͒̇̾͋̎̎̒͠O̘̤̺̱̫͎͊̀̀̀̀̏̇̄͞M̧̆́̿̀̅́͊̊͠͝ͅͅ ̴̡̭̗ͅĘ̸͈̱͙̪̟̫̻̞̍͋̂́̈͘͜ P̸̯̣̦̗͓̰͇̒͛̆̃̇Ą͇̞͓̦͚͈̤̎͋̑̔͊̕͟I̜͎̝̞̠̓̓̃͊́̚͘͡N͂̏̓̏͠ ͍̟̤̲͓̈
    .
    .

    And then she vanished into the beast.

    You don't need to be embarrassed any more, by how limited you are.

    Sayori woke up, shivering and cold on the floor of the chamber. It was empty, except for the vast alien idol that loomed over her, still skewered by stakes, but now cold and silent.

    Those spikes are one way data trunks. They show me what the Berserker command platforms are doing, but don't let me transmit out. You are running out of time. You have the schematics, and are augmented to be able to fight the berserkers. You and your crew have a chance, to carry the warning to the milkyway, and save trillions of lives.

    The door to the chamber, which seemed hastily welded shut, ground open, tearing with a shriek.

    Go!

    +++++

    "It. . . took her?" Davrry muttered, hands over his mouth. It had been two hours since the incident in the 'dungeon', when the alien command platform had eaten their best scientist. Ella was visibly shaken, sitting in a corner and staring into space. Captain Severt had set to organising the party that would be returning to the Elcano. Not everyone could fit on the stealth shuttle, so a small group had volunteered to be marooned, with the hope that the Concert might one day be able to launch a rescue mission, once the war was over. Ostensibly they would be there to research the necropoli that dotted the world, but the small band of humans, led by Severt, knew it was likely they would die on this alien world.

    Severt walked over and put a hand on the other Lyrans shoulder to get his attention.

    "Are you staying here, or going back? We could use a good hunter and woodsman like yourself."

    He slowly shook his head. "Gaea needs me up there. The ships still swarming. . . "

    "Contact at 250m! Something's coming up from below!"

    Davrry leapt up and dashed to the sensor post, with Ella and Severt a step behind.

    "That big ugly bastard get loose?"

    "No sir." The sensor tech responded. "No way it could fit up the tunnel. Its small, fast, and showing similar EM and Infra traces. . . to. . . well, us!"

    Ella tuned into the guard post that they had left at the 100m mark, to warn them in case Cronus did send something against them now it seemed to be hostile.

    "Perimeter two, situation report!"

    +I've got the floodlights on, and weapons armed. I can hear footsteps, and, wait. . .+

    "Jackson!"

    +Ma'am, its. . . holy shit, its Sayori Warrick! She's ok!+
    Last edited by dakkagor; 05-13-2019 at 10:31 PM.

  10. #110
    The Replicant
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    For a second Ella yelled "No!", raising a gun to fire, before she was swatted aside. The tentacles snatched up Sayori, and the vast grinding maw opened in front of her like a lotus flower made of industrial machinery and diamond tipped drills.

    .
    Ȳ̷̭͓͙̻̭̜̒̿̅̊̇͢͜Ơ̵̳̩͍̜̹̼̲̙̺̋̊͗̓́̅̓Ų̭̥̜̍̈̍̎̋̈̍ ̤͇̻ Ẃ̟̬̭̝͙̙̭͓̺̈̃̄̕͞Ȉ̸̡̜̣͇̖̦͆͂̌͐̓͢ͅͅĽ̰͎͓̠͙̣̻̰̂̀̇̚̕͜L ̶̢̢̟̩̫̃͊͒̊͑͌̕͟͡͡ F̱͈̭͕͈̎̈́̍̓́̋̒̕͞Ę̢͍̠̤̹̹̆̇̓͗̀͋̾͜͡͞E̡̛̪͍̩̩̠͉̍́̈̃̓͜L͆ ̴̺͈̹͙̥̞̘̯͛̆̇́̏͢ͅ S̨͔̰͔̳̤̖͚̥̃̑͒̇̾͋̎̎̒͠O̘̤̺̱̫͎͊̀̀̀̀̏̇̄͞M̧̆́̿̀̅́͊̊͠͝ͅͅ ̴̡̭̗ͅĘ̸͈̱͙̪̟̫̻̞̍͋̂́̈͘͜ P̸̯̣̦̗͓̰͇̒͛̆̃̇Ą͇̞͓̦͚͈̤̎͋̑̔͊̕͟I̜͎̝̞̠̓̓̃͊́̚͘͡N͂̏̓̏͠ ͍̟̤̲͓̈



    Too late, a primal instinct clawed its way to the front of Sayori’s mind - a panicked survival drive that caused her to start thrashing against the tentacles that were dragging her into that writhing, scissoring mass of blades and needle points. She could hear nothing but the blood roaring in her ears, feel nothing but her heart trying to punch its way out through her ribs.

    Wait! Her lips formed the word but her throat had closed off, throttling off the scream. The horror was like cold water trickling down the inside of her skull - sharpening the image of the oncoming death, freezing solid her ability to do anything to save herself. The drills spun up, hissing like vipers, and lunged.

    “You’re gonna carry that weight.”

    Her last mistake.

    The drills clawed through her suit and touched her skin, a grinding pressure that in a split second became searing pain, punching into her neck, her wrists, her elbows. She heard her helmet visor crack and splinter. She didn’t feel the drills pierce her face, but they must have done because suddenly she could neither see nor hear. Or perhaps that was her senses simply shutting down, curling away into a wretched, weeping ball so she wouldn’t have to witness what the alien god-machine was doing to her.

    She could still feel it though. She could feel a hundred needle-thin threads of living wire snaking and spreading underneath her skin. Tracing her veins, unfurling through her sinuses, worming across the inside of her scalp like crawling maggots. For a moment - a mercifully brief moment - every nerve in her body lit up with white-hot agony.

    And then-

    * * * * * *

    Black.

    She couldn't see anything, and she couldn't feel anything apart from a dull sense of pressure against her back and shoulders. She could however hear something: a meaningless white noise - like a tinnitus ring, downtuned. It drained through her mind without leaving any real feeling of significance.

    Black and...metal.

    The air tasted cold and coppery. A breath of convection was stroking her cheek. Her helmet was gone. Her exo-suit gloves were gone too. She could feel cold metal under her hands. How long had she been lying there? She had no time reference, just

    Black.

    Sayori opened her eyes and saw the ceiling of the vast cavern staring back at her, a warren of geometric tunnels and sharp, hard angles. She stared up at the hive for perhaps five seconds before she remembered that the chamber had not had any light sources.

    “You don't need to be embarrassed any more, by how limited you are.”

    Sayori started violently at the booming voice, coming from - seemingly - right next to her. She clawed onto her side, scrambling around to face the vast alien idol that hung above her. Fully visible in the un-light, it was a terrible thing - intricate, majestic and broken. It loomed over her, still skewered by stakes, but now cold and silent.

    “Cronus?” Sayori asked. The vast chamber swallowed her voice and chorused it back to her as faint echoes.

    “Those spikes are one way data trunks.” The alien construct’s voice didn’t echo. “They show me what the Berserker command platforms are doing, but don't let me transmit out.”

    Sayori could still hear the white noise. An incredibly low, slow sound; balanced somewhere between a ring and a rumble.

    “Is that…” She swallowed, her brain rebelling against the signals that her senses were feeding her. “Is that what I can hear?”

    “No. That is the local star. You are receiving the radio signals of satellites in orbit, which are observing the coronal loops.”

    Sayori lay on the floor, hands splayed across the cold, smooth metal, staring at the dormant giant. She didn’t know how to respond. No words seemed adequate to the task.

    “I downtuned your new senses, so as not to overwhelm you.”

    Sayori swallowed again. “What else can I hear?”

    It began slowly at first, a gentle sifting of static like wind blowing through the grass. Then bursts of it began to pulse to and fro, rising towards her and then dopplering away almost before she had truly registered them. She heard the susurrus of the fibre-optic trees, the clicks of the mechanical birds as they surged and flocked above the silicon canopy. She heard the twittering of a million tiny creatures in the undergrowth, and the whisper of the dust-tiny nanobots threaded through the soil. It was the same hypnotic cacophony she had heard when she had turned on her suit radio on the surface - only now, it all made sense.

    Sayori gasped, grinning from ear to ear. She looked up, at the motionless monster. “Cronus…”

    “I am not that Cronus. I am a standalone instance, copied into your new augments.”

    Sayori looked down at her hands. They were still her hands, down to the cuts and abrasions of the last few days. Even the tiny red scab where the cryo-pod’s feeder tube had been inserted into the back of her hand. But the veins beneath her skin weren’t quite the right colour. Less blue, more silver. Like Ella’s.

    As if a switch had been flipped, like focusing attention onto the normally automatic acts of breathing and blinking, she was suddenly aware of it all. The nanite colonies seeded through her bone marrow. The sixth-seventh-eighth senses she could reach out to touch a computer, a drone...even a Berserker. And the knowledge...oh god the knowledge. Theorems, principles, codes, equations, logarithms, designs, diagrams, schematics...

    “You are running out of time. You have the schematics, and are augmented to be able to fight the Berserkers. You and your crew have a chance, to carry the warning to the milky way, and save trillions of lives.”

    The door to the chamber, which seemed to have been hastily welded shut, ground open, tearing with a shriek. Sayori blinked. Had Cronus done that, or had she?

    “Go!”

    With new resolve, Sayori pushed herself to her feet.

    * * * * * *

    "Perimeter two, situation report!"

    +I've got the floodlights on, and weapons armed. I can hear footsteps, and, wait. . .+

    "Jackson!"

    +Ma'am, its. . . holy shit, its Sayori Warrick! She's ok!+


    The pylon-mounted floodlights converged in the centre of the hall, splashing stark shadows across the hexagonal walls. A pair of glassy-red eyes reflected back.

    Sayori Warrick slowed to a halt, and slowly raised her arms in surrender. Her pressure suit hung from her limbs in tattered ribbons.

    “Hi guys?” she said uncertainly, her lips quivering into a nervous giggle as she stared down the barrels of the crew’s assault rifles. “Um...did I miss much?”
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 09-12-2019 at 07:27 PM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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