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Brave New World (Razgriz x darkangel76)

A tiny smile worked its way along Cora's lips as Ivan answered. His words meant he might have to stay for a while. Good. She needed something to brighten her mood after all the shit they'd been through. Besides, there was a lot she wanted to learn and she knew he'd be perfect to help in that arena. Then, there was the fact that she felt better having him there. Her smile broadened and she bit down on her lower lip. Plus—and this just made things all the sweeter—she remembered Vishnu demanding he return right away.

Yeah, Cora felt a tiny bit of satisfaction knowing that Ivan would be disobeying the robot by deciding to stay and help and hopefully...

Just then, Cora's dark eyes widened. Her thoughts were interrupted when Ivan started talking about his history, his...age. She turned to look at him square in the face. Her eyes found his—red and bright—and her mouth dropped open in both shock and awe. No way had she heard him correctly! No way in freakin' hell! But he seemed serious in his statement. Well, as serious as anyone could be considering what he'd just said so casually. She closed her mouth, face still hot as she thought about what all of this could possibly mean.

"So, y-you've been around, huh?" Cora stated more than asked, her face flushed, her tone a bit nervous.

Cora raked a hand through her dark hair and tried to laugh a little only she felt ridiculous and just wanted to hide. At least Thomas was just as stunned as she was though no doubt he was hardly as embarrassed.

Wincing, Cora tried again. "Not that it matters, of course." Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt her face grow hotter and hotter. Just what the hell? She was messing everything up! "I mean, wow! Umm... the things you must've seen...I..." Her voice trailed and she bit down on the inside of her cheek. Ugh, she sounded so stupid. Finally, she just rested her head against her knees. "Bet you could teach us a lot," she said, her voice muffled. "If you wanted to."
 
Thomas was still trying to pick up his jaw as Cora attempted to ask what the android would be willing to do. "I have seen quite the number of scenes...Some more gruesome than others, and more strangely beautiful. When I was first being created, my creator had tapped into every available service device and let me see the world as it was. And what came of it after the Cataclysm." Ivan, unlike humans, had the capacity to recall every minute detail, minus anything regarding sensation save for sight and sound, and would not forget the devastation he witnessed before the asteroid knocked out every last piece of surveillance equipment.

"And when I was placed into a more mobile platform, I emerged to see just what had happened. It was so...empty. I mean, I knew where everyone was...But it was strange. Very strange." Thomas couldn't help but wonder what the man meant by that, but he wouldn't get a chance to ask, nor would Ivan have a chance to respond further to Cora's query.

"Tommie! Approaching Hargard now! Hopefully Redstone doesn't try to kill us for driving Enforcer cars!"

"Are we in radio range?"

At this Ivan spoke up, "We're still outside the feasible reception area, but if you like, I can utilize my circuits as a signal booster." Thomas couldn't help but shake his head, "Is there anything you can't do?" At this Ivan noticeably paused, a few long seconds passing before he replied, "I can't taste food, though it is something Father wants to try. Does that count?" Thomas just laughed, "Well, by all means, friend...Fire it up."

Ivan nodded and reached across Cora, his fingers shifting into something akin to small tentacles, the golden lengths worming their way into the wiring. "No signal encryption...I see. Something I will fix once we arrive in town." Ivan commented, the machines within him working as a relay. His circuits fused into the onboard, his body changing shape ever so slightly to improve clarity.

"Alright, signal is strong. Speak whenever you are ready."

Thomas took the transceiver and started to talk. Something that Hemmingway normally took care of, but also something that he learned how to do...Just in case.

"Watchtower, watchtower. This is Caravan, over."

A voice came back, one of the sentries that spotted trouble and served as the early warning system.

"Copy that, Caravan...Uh, are those Enforcer cars?"

"We are about ten minutes from Hargard's east gate. Be advised, main transport is flanked by two seized Enforcer APCs. APCs are carrying friendlies, over. They are not hostile. I repeat, they are not hostile."

There was a bit of a pause; no doubt the sentry was calling Redstone himself to verify the report. And at this hour, no doubt he was going to be pissed from being woken up.

"Thomas? What the hell is going on? What's all this crap about 'seized' Enforcer vehicles?" Redstone's voice spoke after about a minute's delay, grumpily replacing that of the sentry. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir. Something you'll just have to see for yourself." Another pause ensued, the Mayor trying to contemplate the best course of action.

"Alright, I'll advise the guards to lay off the fire...Not that it'd do much good anyway. Not against those things." Thomas just grinned at Ivan as he turned off the radio, allowing the android to disengage. "Redstone's going to shit bricks when he sees you, Ivan." he joked, to which the android replied with what one might presume to be a quizzical look, "...Pardon?" The man then realized that some colloquialisms might be lost on the android, so he rephrased, "I just mean he's going to be quite surprised, is all".

And within moments, they were back inside their safe haven, the medical teams rushing over to gather the injured; even after Ivan's work, some would need bed-rest and likely a blood transfusion. Hemmingway and Harris lifted onto the stretchers and soon carted off to be treated for their severe but stabilized wounds.

"What in sweet Mary and Joseph is that fucking thing?! What the hell happened out there?"

The stocky form of Redstone soon came down and almost immediately noticed Ivan. Gray rushed and tried to reason, "Hey, easy now...This guy saved our asses out there. We got hit by Ghosts, then Enforcers ambushed the exchange point." Redstone ran a hand over his face in dismay, "How many did we lose?"

At this, Ivan spoke up, "The other town was the only one who suffered fatalities. By your folks' accounts, all who were on this trip have come back. Some might be bedridden while their bodies recover, but I was able to restore them to less-than-serious condition." Redstone's face flickered in surprise, "You talk? The hell are you anyway?" Ivan just replied calmly, "I am an android, and I go by Ivan."

Just then the back doors of the truck were opened, and some of the others were busy trying to maneuver the heavy power core onto a type of cart for transport.

"Slide it out easy, we don't need to break this thing, not after all that shit."

"Kaitrin, get that other end before Jameson breaks his finger again"

"That was one time, Tom!"

At this, Ivan just said, "Please, excuse me" and walked over to the group. Without even trying, he just up and lifted the core in its entirety, carrying it front of him as if he were holding a feather in his palm. "Sweet horny toads..." was the Mayor's amazed response; android or whatever the hell it was, this thing was incredible!

"Now then...Where do we install the core?" asked the android, looking around for people to guide him to where it needed to go.
 
Cora lifted her head up from her knees, cheeks still a bit red, and frowned. Of course, Ivan had seen a lot. He was over three thousand years old...and just how old did that make Vishnu? Ugh, like she cared! He had no ounce of compassion for anything or anyone. Amazing that he could even create someone as remarkable as Ivan. She looked at the golden giant, her thoughts swimming. God, what that must be like! To see life come and go, all things passing you by as you just continue on, watching it all... a chill ran down along her spine and she shivered, her heart pounding a bit harder as she began to contemplate what that must truly be like. She wanted to ask more, to hear more, but they were approaching Hargard.

Sitting up straighter, Cora looked over at Thomas. He'd begun busying himself with trying to radio the town as they steadily moved closer and closer, the APCs no doubt something that could cause panic to anyone on guard. Her thoughts drifted to the others who were driving them, especially Kaitrin. Her last interactions with her friend hadn't been the most pleasant and she wondered if things changed between them as a result. She figured she'd find out once everything was situated and life got back to normal.

But would it ever be normal again?

Cora looked over at Ivan as he reached across her, his arm shifting to help Thomas boost the signal to Hargard. As she looked up at him, the last rays of sunlight glinting off his golden form, she knew that everything had changed...and not just at Hargard. She thought about Girdershade and what the people there would be thinking as Vishnu paraded himself into their little town, his reclusive attitude more than likely causing a stir amongst the people. She sniffed. As if that robot would stay at Girdershade any longer than he had to. He'd probably stay outside their walls and high tail it back to the spot Ivan was supposed to go to when he finished his time with them.

Damn Vishnu. Freakin' robot really knew how to sour her thoughts. Cora balled her hands together and kept them in her lap as they entered Hargard. She didn't want to think about Vishnu when she was thankful to be home, their mission a success and a new friend in their midst. She glanced at Ivan over her shoulder before she got out of the truck, her feet landing firmly on the ground. Yeah, she was home. And she knew exactly who to thank for that. As everyone gathered together, she saw Kaitrin get out of the Enforcer APC. The raven-haired girl once again had her stoic face. Oddly, she was glad to see that. But, she couldn't help but feel uneasy at how things had been before heading home.

Redstone was there, ready and waiting and his expression was priceless. Cora was used to the guy. After all, she'd been begging to do caravan runs for a while now and it wasn't until this time that he'd finally caved and let her go. She was used to how he could get. But seeing him this way? It helped lighten her mood a little. She watched Ivan pick up the core and she smiled. Yeah, that was Ivan all right. Like Thomas had said, he could do anything. And she believed it. She watched in silent awe, certain she'd never grow tired of seeing such things and done for the good of others. How she wished she could be more like that...even by a tiny bit.

Blushing a little, Cora looked away from the scene as Ivan helped with the core and headed over to Kaitrin. Her friend just watched, arms crossed, as Ivan helped and slowly began acquainting himself with Hargard and its citizens. Kaitrin glanced over at her, blue eyes meeting brown.

"Hey," Cora said softly. "Sorry for how I acted back there.

Kaitrin just waved Cora off. "Don't worry about it." Just then, Narcissa walked up, her still pretty face—despite the scar—smiling her usual smile.

"No, really. I am," Cora said more forcefully. "I lost it out there and you tried to help. You're a good friend." She gave her a smile.

Kaitrin just nodded and placed a hand on Cora's shoulder, the one that had been wounded by her arrow. "No need for apologies." She paused, her expression softening. "We're a team out there. I did what I had to. Besides, a lot had happened and..." her voice trailed. "I'm sorry." She gestured toward her shoulder. "Your shoulder. That was my fault."

Cora's head tilted.

"I lost it out there too. I accidentally shot you." Kaitrin sighed. "So you see. Shit happens." She smiled and laughed softly.

Narcissa just stood there and flipped her blonde hair. "Speak for yourself," she stated with a wink as she shoved on by.

Cora arched a brow and looked at Kaitrin who just smiled. On the surface, things looked the same, but all three knew they weren't and never would be again. Runs like the one they'd just been on changed people. Forever.

As Kaitrin and Narcissa walked on, Cora glanced back at Ivan. He was trying to figure out where to install the core. She bit down on her lip and hurried over to Redstone. "Permission to help Ivan with the core, sir?" she asked. "I'll make sure everything is handled and report back once the job is done." She looked at him with hopeful eyes and then glanced over at Ivan and smiled. At least he had hope and faith in humanity...unlike some...and how it burned that some were so dismissive and ready to just toss it all away.

Not if she could help it...no, not if she could.
 
Redstone was still too busy gawking at this gold-skinned giant, lifting that massive core like he was picking up a piece of paper, to really hear Cora's request even though the words reached his ears. Although, he was basically broken of his trance after she had finished speaking, some of the others hiding chuckles that the big mean Redstone had been frozen in place. Even if it wasn't through fear, the sheer look of stupefaction was priceless.

"Huh...Oh, yeah sure, Pearce, you go ahead and do that." the mayor finally replied; Ivan then just said, "Lead the way, Cora". A few minutes later, they arrived at the main generator station; some of the engineers looked up from their workstations, wondering who the hell this guy was. One of the men looking over the control panels then knocked on the window, pointing to one of the guys and motioning for him to come in here.

"Oi, Pearce, who the hell is this?!" a red-haired man with a scratchy-looking beard, dressed in an Old World hazmat suit, asked as he lifted his mask off his face. "Apologies for the intrusion, but I believe that your existing core is on the verge of failure. This is the replacement."

Ivan set the core down gently and went over to inspect the original. "Hey, wait a minute, you can't go in there! We're still in the process of shutting the thing down!" Ivan just turned and replied, "I have no organic components. Believe me when I say I am in no danger." before closing the door behind him. He then knelt down next to the ball in the middle of the large room, his eyes beginning to glow as his scanners ran a complex analytical algorithm.

"Reactor type: Super-AZ Fusor."

"Components: Diode-pumped solid-state pulsed laser - 532nm beam, 89-11 T-D fuel core. Resonant magnetic bottle confinement torus, theta-pinch initiator. Core overlayed by lead and concrete radiation shields."

"Hydrogen isotope concentration below working levels. Accretion recycle system functionality - 58%. Neutron capture sink near capacity. Photoelectric panels and heat-recovery circuits heavily degraded from ineffective thermal insulation"

Recommended actions as follows, in ascending order of priority:
1 - Redesign neutron capture sink for optimal DHIR functionality.
2 - Restore and improve efficiency of thermal recovery systems. Implement Seebeck generators in parallel for small-parts power supply.
3 - Convert all DHI material into new reactor fuel. Decrease T/D ratio to 5.7 for improved performance.
4 - Restore ARS (>98% efficiency).
5 - Increase conductivity of contacts and replace existing circuits with Feltrate-doped optical cables.
6 - Replace concrete/lead radiation barrier.


The diagnostics showed Ivan that he certainly had his work cut out for him; the fact that they managed to keep the reactor running this long was nothing short of impressive. The use of water, however, for turbine generation was simply not the way to go; though he would certainly implement using the waste heat to help these people with water treatment. The high heat output would be more than enough to sterilize any water, no matter where it might come from.

He then went over and placed a hand on the observation window, his voice playing through the thick glass, "I've noticed several improvements that can be made to this system. With your permission, I would like the shutdown to continue and access the wiring."

The man that had come out to greet them then turned to Cora, "Pearce...I'll ask again. Who the hell is this guy, and why is he interested in doing this?"
 
Cora's cheeks just reddened and she grinned sheepishly as she raked her hand carelessly through the tousled mess of dark curls that framed her face. "Well now, you see," she began giving a tiny shrug and starting to pace. "It's really quite an amusing story." She laughed a little, partly because she couldn't believe that what was happening in their small town of Hargard was actually real and partly because she was afraid it would all disappear in the blink of an eye. Her nervousness rose deep in the pit of her tummy and she began wringing her hands together. "W-we'd been through hell and back," she went on, her dark eyes finding Ivan's through the glass window. "Hit by Ghosts and then, well...Enforcers."

Cora stopped there for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She'd honestly thought they'd all die when the Enforcers had come. If Ivan hadn't shown up when he had, it wasn't difficult to figure out what the outcome would've been. There'd have been no survivors, no tales to spin and certain no core to be installed in the main generator. She heaved a sigh, her heart pounding hard.

Looking away from Ivan, she smiled weakly. "Enforcers surrounded us and, well, Ivan saved us." Her smile broadened. "He literally saved our asses from death and made sure we got that core he's now installing." She paused and stepped forward, placing her one hand on the glass. Her gaze returned to Ivan as he worked. She tilted her head and then looked away once more, her hand dropping to her side. "All I know is that I owe him my life. We all do. And if he says he can help us...I trust that he will. With all my heart."

Cora's face grew hot as she spoke, her body a bundle of nerves as she felt her hands begin to shake. She crossed her arms, tucking her hands in close as she rocked up and down on her heels. Just then, she let out a tiny puff and moved over to the window. She tapped on the glass and nodded.

"Go on ahead," Cora said plainly, her eyes staring directly into Ivan's red. She dared anyone to speak out otherwise. If they did, she have something to say. And she knew her friends from the caravan run would back her. After everything that had happened, that Ivan had done for them all...how could they not?

Confident, Cora just crossed her arms once again, letting Ivan get back to work so he could finish up with the core. It was late and she needed a report to be given back to Redstone about how things were faring with the core. Still riding her high after speaking up on Ivan's behalf, she felt a bit bolder.

"Hey," Cora then said to the one engineer. "Why don't you let Redstone know that everything is settled with the core." She bit down on her lip and tapped on the glass once more. "Ivan, could you give us some rough details so that a report can go out to Redstone about what's going on?" She smiled a bit. "Then you can finish up and we can get outta here." She felt proud, as if she served purpose for once. "It's getting late and I'm sure the blow hard wants to sleep," she added, unable to resist the jab at the mayor since he wasn't there. "Plus, it'll be a long day tomorrow."

Looking at Ivan with hopeful eyes, Cora felt like things were suddenly looking up for Hargard...that her future somehow looked a little brighter.
 
*Dalton City, Second District of Anselm's Empire*

Towering buildings loomed above the smooth streets, their surfaces brilliant and shining as passerby roamed into various stores. Overall, the public seemed happy, content with the safety provided by this city. Though there were more than a few tense moments, especially when armed Enforcer soldiers were seen patrolling on foot. But then, just about anyone would be at the very least mildly terrified of fully armored troops waltzing about, their high-powered weaponry on display.

Off in the eastern direction were the enormous growing fields where farmers worked under the intense sun to ensure that the food supply was consistent. Large fields of vegetables and fruits, as well as certain forms of livestock that had been found to be suitable for human consumption, were abundant. To the west were simple textile mills that churned out the fabrics from materials grown and harvested in other cities owned by Anselm. To the north was the main governmental complex, almost another city in and of itself. Complete with weapons factory, residence halls for the local appointees and the main Council chambers.

And much like the walled cities of old, there were turrets where vigilant sentries kept watch for any incursions, their safety guaranteed by thick walls of nigh-impenetrable glass. And behind them, cameras served to cover the blind spots that the sentries might overlook. Security substations were scattered across the vast city, some serving as jails and others merely fast-response stations containing less than a dozen officers.

The main method of transportation aside from walking was a system of small trams that ran along the middle of the streets, the electricity powered by steam turbines and hydrogen-fuel based electricity. And it was on one of these trams that held none other than the King and Queen of this Empire, here on a visit about a recent 'incursion' by Resistance forces.

Yes, this city seemed a model of efficiency, and one that Anselm was proud to see running so smoothly during his escorted visit. Prices were fair, and attempting to gouge customers was a serious offense, entailing an incredibly harsh penalty for being caught doing so. In fact, one of his first laws was a restriction on profit percentages to keep things affordable, save for a few fields like agriculture where higher caps were tolerated. At his side was his beloved Queen, her beauty beyond compare, his sides flanked by Royal Guardsmen.

"As you can see, Your Grace, everything is running exactly as it should. The jails are virtually empty, save for a few rapscallions that were disrupting the peace. Productivity and satisfaction surveys have all returned with results exceeding expectations." said a mousy-haired, stout man dressed in a white three-piece suit: Aaron Truesdale, Governor of Dalton City and one of the Assistants to the Second District Director.

Anselm had been overlooking the report as the director led them about the city, showing the ruling house everything about this city. "Yes, fine job, indeed. However, there is one question I have. And I assume you know what I'm going to be asking, aren't you, Mr. Truesdale?" Aaron gulped and replied, "Yes, Your Grace..."

Anselm just smiled and stated, "So...Where are they?" Aaron just shook his head and replied, "We caught some of them hiding out in a portion of the sewers. We have two of them in custody...A man and a woman. The rest fled the city, as far as our intelligence has indicated. And they refuse to divulge any information, no matter what methods we might try to use."

Anselm let out a sigh, "That's disappointing to hear, but I suppose two is better than none. No doubt sacrificial lambs, as the saying goes." He then handed the report back to the man, adding, "Let's go pay these two a visit, shall we? See if the presence of myself and my Queen will loosen their tongue."
 
The breeze blew through Helena's long, blonde hair as she rode on the tram, her arm linked tightly with Anselm's. She turned her head and looked up into his face. It was the picture of everything she desired—regal, chiseled beauty that emanated a power she could almost taste. Wave after wave poured from his body and washed over her own, lapping at her flesh relentlessly, no sign that it would ever ease up. But that was as she wanted it, as she needed it. She smiled then, her grip on his arm tightening.

Helena inhaled deeply, the scent of Anselm was heavy in the air, but it was nothing like their home. There, it was dulled by all the activity, by the air that carried the aromas of strange people and food and flowers. But trips like these were necessary. Her king needed to keep his hold over everyone and everything if his rule was to remain true and untainted. No one could rise against him. Nothing like what had happened so long ago could ever happen again. She'd never lose him. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Her hands trembled slightly as dark thoughts traversed her mind, memories of a time long ago.

Dark times...the darkest she'd known.

Helena leaned her head against her husband's shoulder, her smile broadening. "Let's go indeed," she agreed when Anselm demanded they visit the two daring to revolt. Her cool blue eyes drifted to Aaron and she wondered what he was thinking, what the citizens were thinking. Was Dalton on the verge of revolution? How many more planned nonsensical uprisings against her beloved?

Well, they'd pay! All of them!

Helena's hands were shaking a bit more, her blood heating as she let her thoughts linger on all the possibilities at hand. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She'd be useless if she didn't get a hold of herself right then and there and it would be ages before she'd get her hands on more Wraith Dust. But how she longed for some at that very moment. She could almost taste the sickly sweet powder on her tongue as she involuntarily swallowed—eyes fluttering shut—and imagined the way it dripped down her throat and coated her insides. A small groan left her lips and her eyes opened wide. She sat up and cleared her throat, cheeks reddening as she moved to smooth out the pale blue fabrics of her dress.

It wasn't long before the tram came to a stop. Helena regarded Aaron and then turned to Anselm. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed as she placed her hand in his and gently touched his face with her other one. "My eyes will be ever watchful," she stated, doing her best to hold onto the calm as threads of anxiety tried to take their hold. "They will yield." She nodded then and began to play with fabric at his collar. "Or you will see to it that justice is served. You are a good king, a wise king." Her blue eyes found his and she smiled. "One who rules for the good of everyone, who has vision and foresight." She paused and leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his. "Do not forget that."

Helena laced her fingers with her king's, thoughts on Wraith Dust pushed to the back of her mind...for now. Now, they had rebels to contend with, other matters would have to wait. Would these revolutions ever end? Why hadn't it ended with the death of Charles? So many questions and too few answers. All she could hope was that with her by Anselm's side, they could stop these feeble attempts, make them see how shallow and insignificant their cause truly was. Only one thing mattered and that was keeping her beloved on the throne and destroying anything that defied him.

And destroy them, she would. She would spill the blood—and revel in it—of anyone or anything that got in Anselm's way!
 
Little did Anselm know of his wife's dangerous new habit. Wraith Dust was something that apparently was stolen from a Ghost ritual site and reverse-engineered to become one of the hottest-selling black market drugs. No one really cared about its original purpose, only that it gave them a powerful euphoria like nothing in the Old World ever could. Only problem was, the compounds needed to manufacture it could only be derived from unsavory sources and the key to making it happen was a rare mutated plant that only grew in certain areas.

Nonetheless, he smiled down at his beloved after her whispered poisonous words, platinum trusses shining in the endless sun as his cobalt hues stared into hers, "Yes, I will make sure that they are more...cooperative. And I have you to thank, my dearest Helena." He reached to stroke her cheek, planting the gentlest of kisses on her forehead, "You helped open my eyes that day. Made me see that I need to be more proactive."

And at that, Anselm asked that he be taken to see the prisoners, where the jailer - a lean man dressed in a simple uniform of a blue button-up and navy slacks, black wingtip shoes and a dark-billed hat bearing Anselm's insignia of the double-headed eagle with a pyramid above it - opened the main gates. He would make them talk, no matter what. A threat to one city was a threat to his entire reign. He needed to be ruthless, quick and decisive in his actions. Any hesitation and these rebels would not hesitate to capitalize on that sign of weakness.

In one room, a brown-haired man sat on his haunches with only torn brown trousers as his clothing, his arms and legs chained to a heavy-iron handle in the floor; his body was covered in black/blue splotches and deep lacerations, one eye was swollen shut, and his wrists and ankles were raw from when he apparently tried to wrench himself free of his bindings. Aside from the thick door, the bar-less cell had the same glass that covered the turrets as the front wall, allowing the guards to have full visibility without risk of a breakout. "I take it this is the man?" the King asked the jailer, to which he replied, "Yes, Your Grace; he was brought here and interrogated shortly after capture. But as you can see, he holds out information."

Anselm's brow furrowed, contemplating a better course of action. "Have these two seen each other after imprisonment?" The jailer shook his head, "No, sire, we kept them separated per your directive." This caused a slight smile to curl his lips, "Good. But today we break that rule. Open the door and loose the chains." The jailer just blinked, causing Anselm to state again, "Do you have a hearing problem?" This forced the jailer to shake himself free of the momentary stupefaction, taking the key and unlocking the heavy iron door. Anselm then motioned to his Guardsmen, two of the troops following the jailer inside as he unlocked the chains. Each grabbed an arm and hoisted the barely-conscious man up to his feet.

"Good. Jailer, take me to the woman's cell." was Anselm's next command; a quick left turn down the eastern hallway led them to another cell. "So...The Great King leaves his iron throne to finally visit the plebians." the prisoner muttered, a small grin revealing many broken teeth. Anselm just chuckled, "Yes, well, a good King must personally visit every now and again. It helps the people know that he's watching for troublemakers."

"You started the trouble, you prick...I don't care what you do, you're not getting a thing out of me. I'll die before I talk to you." This made Anselm smile even more, "You don't seem to understand, you're going to die either way. The interrogation was just a courtesy to try and loosen your tongue. Had you talked, your death would have been painless, but instead you chose to obey your hubris. The question you should be asking is: Will you die before your friend does?"
 
Helena followed Anselm as they made their way toward those whom thought themselves above their king. She knew her husband. His eyes had been opened to the reality of his position that fateful day so many years ago. He'd finally come to accept the truth that she'd known the moment he'd decided she was the one to share his life with him. The world was full of those willing and wanting to snatch everything from you and the only way to hold onto anything precious was to make it clear where you stood compared to everyone else. So, if that meant keeping an iron fist on your power in order to ensure safety, security, keeping your loved ones away from all harm....you did it, no matter the cost.

No, these people who thought they knew better, who thought they could take on a king! They would see exactly what that meant. Their actions would not go ignored. And Helena would stand right there by her beloved's side and take glory in every moment of their misery. After all, they deserved it, every torturous bit!

Helena smiled when Anselm mentioned wanting the other rebel brought in. The jailer's face seemed to have gone white or perhaps it was just the lighting playing tricks with the shadows. No matter, his demands would be followed. She had no doubt about that. It wasn't long before she heard the scuffles and muffled noises that were obviously the other imbecile who thought they were above the laws. Helena's pretty face twisted the moment her blue eyes met brown. She could still see the spark of fire residing within them as the woman looked her way, anger written all over her face.

"Tsk...tsk..." Helena clucked as the woman was dragged into the room just far enough away from their other prisoner's reach. She turned to face him, his body so broken and bruised. She wondered what sorts of things they'd done exactly to make this one look so ragged and worn. Yet, he still hadn't spoken. How interesting. It always was. She let her hand drop from Anselm's and stalked over to the woman.

"Bitch!" the woman hissed. As Helena approached, the woman peered up at the queen through a mess of dark hair and spat in her face.

"Oh..." Helena exclaimed, though she didn't jump or move. She merely wiped her face and then gently cupped the woman's cheek. Turning toward Anselm she smiled. "This one still has some spirit." The woman tried to bite at Helena's hand causing her to jerk it away. "And some bite too!" She laughed lightly, the sound almost musical. She walked back over toward her husband.

Helena eyed the woman being held by guards and then the man still in chains. What a pity, she thought. These two rebels could make such excellent recruits had they not been brainwashed. Ah, brainwashed. A terrible thing. Then again, the brain was more malleable than people realized. Or, so she'd come to learn over the years. She swallowed then, her thoughts drifting for a moment as she caught sight of a strange movement in the shadows. What had that been? Blinking, she shook it off...she knew she needed more Dust. Soon. The shadows always moved when the Dust beckoned.

Lovely Dust... Helena's eyes fluttered shut and she imagined the taste and how her body felt light whenever the aroma intoxicated her senses. Oh, to have some in that very moment! It would be the ultimate...and with her husband with her... She let out a tiny sigh and opened her eyes. They darted to the side, her hands clenching into tiny fists. No. Anselm couldn't know about Dust. It was the one thing he could not know.

Not ever.

Helena took a deep, shaky breath, her blue eyes welling with tears. Turning toward Anselm, she shook her head in dismay. "It's most unfortunate that we must deal with people who do not fully understand what's at stake." She walked closer to her husband, her hands snaking around him as she laid her head against his back. "This is for the safety of us all, you see." She stood up once more and then walked back toward the prisoners, face hardening. "No one hurts the things we love. We love our people."

And no one steals away the power that had taken so long to both gain and maintain. Helena had worked her way up from nothing to something. And she wouldn't be denied that, her vengeance would not be in vain!

Taking a few steps towards the woman, Helena looked at her directly in the eye. "I'd rather die than serve you or your king, whore!"

Helena felt her heart squeeze. Turning toward Anselm, she gave him a nod. "I think you know what needs to be done here." Looking back at the woman, she slowly backed away. As she did, the shadows continued to move, her thoughts swirling, dreaming of Dust.
 
The man glared through his one good eye as that bitch Queen walked towards his comrade; a bloodied smile, his teeth stained red from his own life fluid, crossed his features as she told the Queen off. Good, she'd get nothing out of either of them. Though, he did notice something off about that blonde-haired demon; it was like her mind was somewhere else. Was she trying to block it out? Or was there something blocking it out for her? He couldn't quite put his finger on it...But then, why should he care?

Anselm, meanwhile, just watched as Helena toyed with the woman; unsurprisingly, she was not cooperating in the slightest. Not that it mattered. He knew of his Queen's particular...tastes, and would have no problem in letting her indulge in them. And as she drifted back towards him, an arm came to drape around her shoulders.

"Well, I'm glad you two agree. But, I think some discipline is in order." was the King's next statement, motioning with his head to the soldier at his left. The armored individual gave a curt nod and walked forward to the chained-up prisoner. Chambering the first round, he then aimed and shot the woman in the thigh, forcing a heavily suppressed screech of agony that trailed into a strained groan. "I suggest one of you start talking...I know just how to drag out your deaths." Anselm added, motioning to the other soldier to his right. This one unsheathed a short dagger and stabbed the male prisoner in the arm, the captive's face contorting as the guardsman twisted the knife.

But neither broke their silence. Again, not surprising. "So, which one of you will break first? Or will you both die together?" he added with a mildly sadistic smirk, another shot landing in the woman's other leg and the man being stabbed once more in the shoulder, blood beginning to lead from both wounds and trailing to the floor.

"Hee...You..urgh..think this will make us talk? All...this does...is make us want to shut up more!" the man exclaimed defiantly, to which Anselm snickered, "Please. You really think I expect you to talk? That would be nice, but I doubt you would give up your friends so easily. By all means, resist. But note that the walls of this jail are not very thick. At least, not like the Old World. Your screams, and the gunshots, will echo throughout the streets." The soldier stabbing the prisoner then pushed the knife in deeper, striking sensitive bone. This was something the man could not hold back; a horrific, shrill shriek of unbearable pain roared from his throat, the heart-wrenching sound carrying through the air with impeccable clarity.

And when the sound died down, Anselm leaned in and whispered, "And that. Is the best motivator of all. Fear of retribution." He then stood up, saying to the woman, "This is what will happen to all your friends. Everyone you talked to, loved, who so much as looked in your direction. But I can make it stop...If you're willing to cooperate, that is."
 
Blood seeped from the dark-haired woman's thighs, her body limp in the guard's iron grip as he held her in place before the king and queen. Helena just smirked, her head held high, full of victory and triumph as she watched her beloved speak truths that this ingrate was only just beginning to understand. Typical. It always took drastic measures before they truly knew the consequence of their actions. Selfish pricks! All of them! The dark-haired woman's head hung down between her shoulders, her body trembling more and more with each word she was forced to hear and endure.

"Truth," Helena interjected. "Can be painful." She leaned against Anselm, enjoying the way he felt against her, how her body fit his. His arm was strong and warm over her shoulder, giving her the strength she needed, she craved. "And fear," she went on. "Can forever change you." Turning her blonde head, she looked up into Anselm's face and gave him a smile, her features like an ethereal goddess floating about a dungeon. She appeared out of place in the room—an angel in hell.

Smiling at her husband, Helena reached for Anselm's hand and brought his knuckles against her lips. Her kisses were feather light and tender, a stark contrast to the words she spat at their prisoner. She dared a step forward closer to the woman, her cruel eyes like hard sapphires, cold and unforgiving. The dark-haired woman just looked up at the queen through the tangled mess atop her head.

"So, what's worth more?" Helena asked, her head tilting causing her hair to swish over one slender shoulder. "The order and safety we bring to the people or..." her voice trailed. "Your own selfish ideals?" She took another step, her eyes catching a glimpse of the other prisoner, a crumpled heap dead on the floor. "It's really rather simple. And I'm curious to know." The small smile that had touched her perfect lips grew. "So far, I'd say evidence points to 'selfish'."

Helena stepped around the guard and saw a knife strapped to his belt. Without hesitation, she took hold of it, the handle comfortable against her palm. Memories of her days long past, of days nearly forgotten came back to her. She recalled life before she became queen, before Anselm. As the shiver ran along her spine, she moved to be in front of the woman. She held up the knife, which glinted menacingly in the light of the room.

"And since you won't be talking, all you're good for is screaming," Helena said, her tone almost bored. "It also means you won't need this." Her hand firmly grasped the woman's jaw at the joint, forcing it open against her will. Her dark eyes widened as she wriggled and tried to loosen the hold the guards had on her body. But it was of no use. Her legs had been shot, she could barely feel them, barely move them. Her mouth opened and slowly her tongue slithered out. The queen's eyes glazed with a maniacal euphoria and she swiftly brought up the sharp knife and began to cut.

The woman's screams were piercing, doing exactly as Anselm had predicted—warning anyone on the outside not to trifle with their king, their ruler. And after all, why should they want to?

When Helena finished severing the woman's tongue, she threw it on the ground and watched the woman faint, the echoes of her screams still bouncing off stone and metal. She smiled as she dropped the knife and then looked at her hands. She frowned. "I'm afraid my hands are dirty, my love," she stated. She then looked down at her white dress. Miraculously there was not a drop of blood on the flimsy material. She licked one finger and then used a towel handed to her by another guard.

"They will all know rules them, my love," Helena whispered as she walked over to Anselm. "You, my king, my lord."
 
Each shot that rang out, each twist of the sullied blade that sent fresh roars of pain, all of it done to show that traitors of the crown - and by association the people - would not be tolerated. Part of Anselm hated that it had to come to this, but he had to show the animals where not to stick their noses. After all, the smart ones wanted to avoid pain, right?

"You depraved fuck" muttered the male prisoner, his body now covered in deep perforations before being let go to fall into a bloody heap; really, he didn't know much more his body could take. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his vision hazy and his hearing muffled. "What's depraved is your continued efforts to overthrow me, putting innocent people in jeopardy because you want to cling to broken ideals of the past." replied the King, giving the fallen man a cursory glance downward.

Then came in his beloved, her hands gently coming to own the shining silver dagger. "I suggest you start talking, my friend...I don't believe your friend will be capable of doing so in a few moments". The man looked up to see a woman he cared about, set upon by that blonde harpy. The wicked blade being held inches from her mouth. Not her throat, her mouth, that much he could tell even from the cloudiness.

"N...no, you can't." he grumbled trying to push himself up to stop the Queen. Oh god, he thought, what did I do? Now he was watching, transfixed in utter horror, as Helena started to cut. The screams were so loud in his ears, so horrifyingly loud. Just what the hell was he watching?

"No...NO!" he finally yelled out in futility, watching the severed muscle fall to the ground with a wet 'plop', blood pouring from her open jaw as she too collapsed to the ground. Anselm just tsked, adding "You only brought this on yourself. You could have saved yourselves the inhumanity of your ordeal. But now..." He paused to let the other guard hand him the blood-riddled knife used on the prisoner; he then knelt down and drew a cut just wide enough that it would bleed slowly, but fast enough so that it wouldn't have time to heal over.

"Throw him in there with her, let them go together. I can at least grant them that one mercy." was his final command, the male prisoner's body quickly and unceremoniously tossed in with his slowly dying comrade's. He could only smile as his lovely Helena approached, "No need to fret my love. Many of them do know who rules them. Who grants them safety. But for now, let us return home. We could use the rest."

He then turned to the jailer, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder, "Thank you for everything you do. You and others like you are part of the reason these cities are as safe as they are." The jailer was a little perplexed by the sudden shift; but then, was there any reason to complain? He'd seen the destruction these rebels had caused when allowed to roam free, and it was about time they got what was coming to them!

"You honor me, Sire. I only hope to continue performing to expectation and above" was his reply, something that made Anselm so proud to see. Yes, this type of dedication was admirable; he had a feeling this kind of work could be fairly monotonous and boring. But it was integral to have such a system in place. Every civilization had its prisons.

And with that, the King and Queen were soon on their way home, their convoy on its way back to the safety of their Castle. The ride would find itself peaceful, the towering walls along the road serving as ample protection from the outside elements. Much like the cities, every so often a fully armed and staffed substation would be present, and at the top of the wall was a sentry post, where guards could see for miles out

But something was gnawing at Anselm: This weapon that Charles had found. Just what was it? They were no closer to finding it, not even this 'Haggardsville' that it was supposedly sent to. With all the Resistance soldiers they had captured, no one would ever give it up; those that seemed on the verge of breakdown would simply repeat they never heard of that town. That it never existed.

"My Queen...I am sorry to keep asking this so much. But when you found this weapon for Charles, did you have ANY clue as to what it could be for?" he then asked Helena; after all, she was the one who found it. Maybe if she thought hard enough, she might remember a detail that could point them in the right direction of finding it.
 
With a sigh, Helena nodded. She looked down at the blood stained towel she held in her hands, which were now just as pristine as before she'd cut out the woman's tongue. Yes, she needed to get home, to rest. And more than anything, she needed Dust. A quick movement of shadow and she found herself edging closer to her husband. She gave him a smile and leaned her head against his shoulder, relishing his warmth, the hard planes of muscle. "A rest would be nice after this trouble," she drawled. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air and it made her long for the sweet taste of Wraith Dust. Her hands began to shake at the thought, knowing the precious powder awaited her once she made it safely home. Again, the shadows moved and Helena gripped Anselm's arm, ready to take leave.

It wasn't long before they went through all the usual formalities and were finally on their way back to the palace. How Helena longed to leave Dalton City. The streets were loud and crowded. Bustling with a noise that reminded her of a past she wished to forget. Lazily, she trailed her fingers along Anselm's arm, her blue eyes fixed on nothing in particular as her thoughts drifted. But she was soon brought back into the moment when Anselm mentioned that name, the one she hated more than anything and was glad the world was finally rid of. He'd been a treacherous snake, the worst sort of scum she'd ever known—Charles Vincent!

"Charles?" Helena mumbled, her eyes coming into focus. She sat up and looked at her husband. "It...it's all right," she said trying her best to smile. "It's for good reason." She reached up and began fussing with his collar. "I've been trying to recall on my own anyway. Though it's been a long time." Her pale cheeks tinged pink. "I remember what I'd found looked to be like some sort of gun only..." her voice trailed and her eyes clamped shut. Rubbing at her temples, she tried to remember. "I know Garrett had said it was more than a gun." She opened her eyes, her hands moving to Anselm's hair. Her fingers worked their way through it, fixing, straightening, but also enjoying how it felt against her skin. "He'd said it needed work." Her hands fell to her lap, resting against the white filmy fabric. "But it was when Charles learned that it was more than a gun that things changed, he...he started acting differently."

Helena frowned. She remembered the whole thing perfectly. She'd found the gun while out scavenging and brought it to Charles. She been so proud of the find and so had he. He told her the thing was in great shape, could be worth a fortune once fixed up. And he knew exactly who to bring it to. Little had she known he'd steal it right from under her nose and keep it for himself and his bloody rebellion, while her father died and she ended up on the streets. She could feel her blood boiling at the memory and she was glad that the man was dead. Though he deserved to suffer far more than he'd had.

"Charles distanced himself more and more. But, Garrett never got the thing working properly," Helena continued. "Not sure why." Her eyebrows knit together and she wondered how even someone as smart and resourceful as Garrett Watson couldn't even get a contraption like the 'gun' she'd found working again. It must've been quite unique if he couldn't get it fully operational. "I'd always just figured it was a gun. You point, you shoot." She paused. "But, I guess there was more to it. Why else would the Resistance want it so badly? Or..." Her eyes widened, her body tensing. "Maybe there were higher plans for it...?"

Helena didn't even want to think about the prospects of the gun leading towards other ideas, other plans. It brought up too many questions and made her blood run cold. Maybe they were still under more of a threat than they realized. The weapon was still out there and they needed to find it. Biting down on her lower lip, she took her husband's hand in hers. Brushing her lips against his knuckles she felt her eyes begin to prick with tears.

"Anselm," Helena whispered, fear evident in her voice. "We have to find it. We can't stop until we do." Licking her lips, she swallowed hard. "Everything you've done for the people depends on it." She squeezed his hand, inching closer. "Tighten the leash, strengthen your hold."
 
Anselm frowned as his Queen gave her answer; true, it seemed Charles was certainly just as careful as he made himself out to be. Perhaps even more so. There was no conceivable way it was some ordinary firearm, not with the amount of secrecy behind it. Many had theorized what it could do, and what it might be used for. But it was one of those mysteries that would never be solved until they found that one crucial piece.

He'd entertained the likelihood, however small, that this was a ploy by the Resistance. Something to draw his attention away from their efforts. That the weapon in question was nothing more than a trinket. Although, if Helena's indication of the effort put in to make it operational held any merit - not to mention her personal hardships following the discovery - then he highly doubted such a scenario was even plausible.

But with how large his forces had grown by this point, he had the utmost confidence that even if it WERE true, there wouldn't be much problem. He'd crush anything in his way. Never again would he allow an event like the Charles fiasco to ever darken his thoughts again.

He looked to his Queen as she implored him to continue, something that he had no intention of turning back on. "Fret not, dearest Helena. This weapon will be found, and we will either destroy it...Or make it work and use it against the ones who sought to keep it from us." Placing a hand upon her cheek reassuringly, he just added with a gentle smile, "You have my vow that I will not let anything harm you. Harm us."

The hours passed, the royal convoy soon arriving at the Capital: A magnificent city, its fortress walls a brilliant alabaster color and the banners of Anselm's reign flying proudly from its gates, a twin set of heavy iron slabs that retracted to the sides and into the walls themselves. Not on massive hinges like many Old World cinematics depicted; that presented far too many opportunities for sabotage. In this way, the main entrance could be easily secured should the need arise. And with the growing number of Resistance pockets popping up, it never hurt to be too secure.

Calls were made and the transport was allowed entrance, the gate pulling away to reveal a megalopolis unlike any other. It was a city truly meant for a King, the buildings high and mighty, home to the best in security and peace of mind. All of his servants and their families, as well those who chose to reside in close proximity to their leader, lived here in splendor. The streets were quite packed, a festival being prepared by decree of the King to allow people to mingle with one another, have a good time. The smaller shop owners would be free to sell their wares, allowing some unfamiliar to hopefully become better known and increase their prosperity.

Really, it was a means to reinforce connections within the city...As well as to hopefully draw out any undesirables. After all, they always seemed to love crowds; not that he could blame them. Crowds gave excellent cover. So, why not give them one?

"Well, well, seems like I'm not the only one who's been busy." he commented cheerfully, the main car going down the street leading to their home: A grand estate that seemed to encompass nearly one-half of the entire town, its grounds teeming with exotic flora that research teams had worked tirelessly to perfect. Species revived after the Cataclysm, their seeds having been cryogenically preserved in specialized containers and crossbred now to allow unfettered, facile growth on this unforgiving land. Workers could be seen helping to tend the grounds, ensuring that their King could be proud of his home.

Once inside, servants tended to the royal couple, at their beck and call to whatever need that might be present. His advisor, Reginald, came forth, accompanying the two as they made their way to the throne room. "Welcome home, Your Graces. I trust your travels went well." Anselm nodded, "As well as can be. The Resistance is getting bolder. Have you heard any news on our current 'project'?" Reginald shook his head, "Nay, Sire. And unlike that braggart Vishnu, as he...or rather 'it'...is called, we don't have much access to aircraft yet, so surveillance is still very much a ground-based effort."

Anselm gave a nod; whoever this Vishnu was, it was starting to become quite aggravating. At first, the psycho didn't pay Anselm much mind. Then it resorted to hacking Anselm's early armor prototypes, before slowly escalating into assaults against patrol units. And the latest was a particularly devastating blow; the Long Range Group consisted mostly of his elite soldiers. Men with the drive and skills to survive out in the wastelands.

"But, I trust that our efforts into that have yielded some results?" Anselm queried; Reginald simply cringed in response. "What?" asked the King to which the advisor stated, "Well...There are some complications. Namely being that our broadcasting range is quite limited, or so the engineers have told me. We would need to wait for the relay stations to be up and running before we could start any measurable surveillance campaign."

Anselm just gave one last nod and dismissed him, telling him to cancel the next few appointments he had for today; he really just needed to sit down and think for a moment. Find a way to make things come together.
 
Helena leaned into Anselm's touch, her blue eyes fluttering closed. As she listened to his words...she believed him. The man, her king and warrior, would not let anything or anyone destroy what they'd worked so tirelessly to build up for themselves. As she rested her cheek against his warm palm, she knew he'd not let anything stand in his way. He hadn't since that fateful day he agreed to let Charles Vincent die.

As the carriage slowly entered the gates to the Capital, Helena felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She was home, the scent of Dust dancing on her tongue though she knew it was merely her fancy that allowed her to taste it right then and there. She peered out into the streets, everyone bright eyed as they bustled about. Clearly happy to have them back home where they belonged. She linked her arm with Anselm's, holding tightly as she watched the passersby. It was always like this whenever they returned and she'd never tire of this feeling, this wonderful sensation she got each time she looked toward palace.

Dust. It called to her and more than anything—even more than some of her other little hobbies and preoccupations. Helena wished she could share in it with her husband. How she longed for that rich intoxication, to see her husband delight in watching her get drunk off of it. Her heart sped at the mere thought, her body warming as she inadvertently licked her lips. He'd never tolerate it. She knew this much. But she needed it and he'd never understand why. It made her ache that they couldn't share this one thing together. It had become a part of her, made her who she was. But...

Helena felt her eyes sting a little, but she decided it was just the breeze causing some of the dust from the street to irritate them a little. Nothing more. Nothing to worry about. She heaved a heavy sigh and let her mind preoccupy itself with the delights of her husband as he pointed things out as they returned.

Once inside, Helena linked her arm with Anselm's. She was quite content feeling the heat of his body so close to her own. Just a little longer...the Dust would help...it would. Her knees were trembling, her mouth dry, every shadow was moving. In the corner she saw the eerie form, slowly sprawling upwards like an angel. She tried to keep her composure. She had to. There was no choice! Staring at the shadowy form, Anselm's and Reginald's voices suddenly became a muffled droning. She could barely make out what they were saying. Blinking, she brought a hand to her head and smiled. When she looked up, the shadow was gone.

Helena overheard the last bit of what Reginald had mentioned about Vishnu and the Long Range Group. As she and her husband walked away, she leaned close to Anselm and whispered. "I don't trust that he's telling you everything." She bit down on her lower lip, her thoughts swimming—Dust, Resistance, Anselm—she felt like she might faint. Her grip on Anselm's arm tightened. "We need to search out these towns one by one, even the smaller ones." She shook her head. "I don't like it. What is he hiding? And why?" She stopped, a frown on her lips. "Why haven't they stopped this Vishnu yet? Do we not have the greater army?" She let go of Anselm's arm and crossed them about her middle. "Just what are we up against, my love?" she then asked, her eyes pleading and vulnerable.
 
Anselm's mind reflected the very same questions his Queen imposed: Why was this Vishnu not captured? It was one...thing, against the might of his army. How was it able to overpower his forces so easily? Well, he knew the answer: Technology. It came down to the technology he wielded. And though they had been able to capture pieces of him, no one had any understanding of how it worked. It was years ahead of even when humanity was at its peak. Still, they needed more research.

The only similarity it had was to the nanomachines in the bodies of the Cataclysm survivors. But the fragments they did recover served one good purpose: A potential means of tracking this Vishnu character. The scientists were able to isolate a frequency signature that was common to each piece, and from that, his researchers were busy working on something that could 'listen' for it and alert them to his presence. But it wasn't quite completed yet...Still, maybe he should go check on it.

"I do not yet know, my Queen." he replied, a concerned look on his face as he started to notice that she was seeming...uneasy. Embracing her gently, he then said, "Reginald I know for sure is a good man. Trust me when I say I will not make the same mistake I made with Charles. Why don't you go relax, I need to attend to something. I will return shortly" he then advised his beloved, giving her a loving kiss on the forehead before headed for the main elevator of the palace.

As he descended in the clean pristine elevator, his mind mused over the thoughts of this latest project: If all went as planned, then this 'Vishnu' would have nowhere to hide. They could track it any day, anytime and anywhere. Anselm just knew that this technological vigilante had to have a central base of operations somewhere. If this tracker was successful, they'd be able to find it. And with that knowledge, he could send a strike team to neutralize Vishnu, and take whatever mechanical marvels he had there. If the holotapes were any degree of accuracy, the things Vishnu held could help him finally secure an iron grip on this chaotic world and finally bring true order to all.

Little did Anselm realize the true reason for his wife's worrisome ticks, but then, he would never have expected someone like Helena - a woman he found as a young lady, and helped give her direction that led to her being the powerhouse she is today - to succumb to a drug as ugly as Dust.
 
Helena's blue eyes fluttered shut as she felt Anselm's lips touch her forehead. She leaned into him slightly before he pulled away. How she loved her husband and seeing him so troubled bothered her. The very thought that this elusive Vishnu was out there in the wastes traipsing about as if he were some sort of god made her blood boil. If only there was a way they could get their hands on better technology, something to rival that of this Vishnu...

Perhaps there were ways. Though she knew her husband probably wouldn't approve of it. However, if it meant the security of his people, his life...maybe he'd reconsider.

She'd make him reconsider.

After all, Anselm was no longer the naïve man he was back when he'd first started to rule. He'd learned that sometimes you had to do things, questionable things, to ensure the betterment of the many... Helena's thoughts were starting to run wile as she gave Anselm a low curtsy, her blue eyes looking up at him as she slowly rose back up to full height.

"I will see you later this evening, my love," Helena promised, her cheeks tingeing pink against her ghostly white pallor. She took a few steps backward, her eyes reluctantly leaving his before she turned on her heels and exited, gown swishing about her body with each and every step.

Once out in the semi-lit halls of the palace, Helena's pace quickened. She looked down at her hands, shaking almost uncontrollably. Dust. She needed more. Now. She placed a hand against her forehead, damp with sweat. Looking at her fingertips, she could see the little droplets lingering on them. Her nose crinkled at the sight, her steps becoming faster. Just then there was a rush of shadow.

"Who's there?" Helena whispered harshly at nothing...just a trick of the light. Ugh, she needed to hurry! Her mind being cruel, begging for her to get what she craved, what she needed. She raced down a set of stone steps, the way narrower than most and well hidden among the enormity of the structure. Her steps light, she darted down the staircase, the air getting colder and colder the further she went.

It was as if Helena were plunging into the depths of Hell. Darkness engulfed her angelic body, ethereal in her gauzy dress, shimmering hair flowing over slender shoulders. Her mind was a cacophony of images. She saw blood and death and shadow as they swirled, trying to consume and revel in joyous delight. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she made it into the bowels of the palace, into a hidden area. Few knew of its existence. It was her getaway, a place of refuge when nowhere else could satisfy.

The torch was lit and the mark was left on the door. Helena would get to her door, her sanctuary. She thrust her body against the heavy wood, delicate hands pulling on wrought iron. Shadows laughed as she struggled with the door as it creaked, mocking at her while it tried to stay put, not giving way.

"Damn you!" Helena shouted.

Suddenly the door opened, a gust of cold air caressing her pale skin. She shivered and entered the dark room, closing the door behind her. Leaning against the heavy door, she let herself fall to the floor, sobs shaking her body as her mind went numb.

"Shh..." whispered a voice. "It's ready."

Helena sat up and brushed away her tears. Slowly, her blue eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room. She could barely make out the silhouette in the far corner, but she could feel his eyes watching her. They always watched her when she got like this.

"Give it to me," Helena demanded, raising her head up high.

"Tsk tsk, that's no way to ask," the voice hissed.

Helena cringed. "I'm not asking," she stated through clenched teeth. "As your queen, I'm ordering you."

"And as your apothecary..."

Helena scrambled toward the apothecary and held her knife up to his throat. He was a small man, old but crafty. And...

He could formulate Wraith Dust.

"You will give me what I ask because I've commanded it," Helena rasped, the knife barely nicking the elderly man's flesh. She could feel him swallowing against her blade, though he made no move to struggle.

"And if you kill me, you'll have no one to make Dust for you," he said plainly. There was a pause, the air thick with tension as Helena's hand shook, her anger fierce while her emotions ran raw with realization. "Anselm will know if you stop. The people will know." The apothecary smiled. Helena could feel it, sense it. "Everyone will."

Helena shoved the old man away. "Please, may I have it?" she asked, her free hand balled up into a tight fist. Her nails dug into her palm.

"Much better, my dear." The old man grinned, his rotted teeth black against his pale skin, which started to come into focus the longer Helena remained in the dark. He moved to get a sack that had been resting near where he'd been initially sitting. He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows and pulled out a pouch.

Helena's eyes widened, her mouth salivating, longing to taste, to experience...

"Anselm will find out," the apothecary mumbled. "And when he does, it will not be my head that rolls."

Helena sneered. "No, it'll be Rickertt's. He's the one who collects what's needed," she said with bold confidence.

The apothecary just nodded and smiled. He walked toward Helena and gently held the pouch out for her to take. She went to grab it, but he moved his hand, holding it just out of her reach. "Always so quick to take, aren't we?" he reminded, a hand moving to grab her breast.

Helena moved quickly, her knife pointing down, the blade held against the apothecary's groin. "Know your place."

The apothecary grinned, the pouch dropping into Helena's hand. He gave her breast a squeeze before letting go. "You cannot blame a man for trying?" he chuckled.

Helena grabbed the pouch away from the apothecary's grasp and kicked him away. "Get out. Get out before I call the guards."

The apothecary bowed and quickly left, removing his mark from the door as he did so. It was always this way. Each and every time. But it was worth the banter to get what she wanted. In the end, she always did. Eyeing the pouch, Helena locked the door and sat down on the floor. Slowly, carefully, she opened the pouch and dipped a fingertip into the powdery contents inside it. The feel of it made her body warm, her insides melt. Already, it was working its magic. She removed her finger, gleaming with the powder as it beckoned her. Without further hesitation, she stuck her finger in her mouth, eyes closing as she let out a groan of pleasure.

The taste was miraculous. She'd gone far too long. If only Anselm would join her in this ecstasy! He was missing out...the wondrous adventures they could share! Again, she dipped her finger into the pouch and took another taste. The flavor danced on her tongue and dripped down her throat, bringing her to heaven as the shadows receded and color began to swirl. Vibrant hues enshrouding her, swallowing her up as she let herself become lost in the wonders of Dust. Her body was on fire, her soul singing, every nerve was alive!

"Just one more..." Helena whispered as she allowed herself one more taste before closing the pouch and hiding it away. She danced in her room, the shadows gone, her dress billowing about her small frame. Each swish of fabric set her senses alight, causing shivers of pleasure to course over her again and again and again. This was ecstasy! This was Dust! She'd worry about Vishnu...later.
 
*Hargard Settlement*

Over the course of the next few weeks, the townspeople of Hargard saw a lot more of Ivan. Unlike his father, the android did not seem content with staying in the shadows; in fact, his behavior was unmistakably human. He worked with different crews of people during his time here, 'fixing' vehicles and helping to improve the efficiency of the electrical grid throughout the settlement.

One of the first things he did was transcribe schematics for the Enforcer APCs into tangible 'blueprints' that could be easily read in case anything needed repairing. Thankfully, these models did not use any 'exotic' metals that would be hard to come by. Most work they would have to do was possibly melt down some scrap and fashion armor panels, but Ivan even covered this in case they got overwhelmed by the information. Even for him, he was still surprised by how over-engineered these personnel carriers were. And the extra armor that was stripped was then used to improve the durability of the buggies, a project that Ivan took pride in doing.

Trying to get at the grid however, was the bulk of his efforts here: Old copper wiring was systematically pulled from the ground and replaced with gray-flecked clear cable. Ivan had largely switched the steam pressurization power output from the reactor to heat-powered optical lasers, something that was more efficient since the Feltrate doping significantly reduced refractive and dissipative losses as well as provided some structural rigidity to the cables themselves. He knew quite well that one bad angle and power would not transmit at all.

And once that was done, Ivan's next project was designing a new overflow system for the water treatment: Instead of using the reactor heat solely to produce power, he also used it as a means of completely sterilizing their clean and graywater supplies. And since it was a fusion reactor that was producing heat, there was no worry of irradiation, meaning the water was safe to drink.

But like any problem, the last and most intensive project was always the waste: Thankfully, the harshness of the environment made people very crafty with what the Old World would have considered 'trash'. But mostly it was what to do with the - now minimal - amount of radioactive byproducts from the depleted heavy isotope recovery system. In case there was ever a problem with the accretion recycler, there was an old plasma gasifier-melter he was able to salvage and repair to deal with the excess. At least now they could safely dispose of any unusable spend from the reactor.

Naturally he was sure to give a thorough tutorial to all involved with maintaining the reactor; after the 'lectures', some of the workers seemed like their heads were about to explode. But it was necessary; after all, this system was a fair bit different than what they were used to working with. "To think, before the Cataclysm, humanity had JUST mastered the proper methodology of harnessing a small-scale sun. And here they are, all these years later." Ivan mused within his mind as he finished repairing the last relay.

His red gleaming eyes narrowed as he held his hands over the junction box; the ground seemed to liquefy and the case slowly sank beneath the surface, becoming set within the dense stone once more. Not too far, since it needed to be easily accessed. "All this time you've been here, and I still don't understand how you do that." commented Redstone, who had recently come up and watched over what Ivan was doing. "It's the machines that live within me. They can transmute any material into any other I choose, or even change the state of the current material on a subatomic level. You would have to ask my Father for more specifics, but don't expect him to divulge much."

Redstone gave a huff, "Where is this father of yours anyway? I'd like to see just how much he really knows. We could use that kind of tech to protect ourselves." It just so happened that Jameson was walking by and overheard this, adding "Don't get your hopes up, Mayor. The guy's not exactly the sharing type. Plus, he went with Girdershade's people, so he's not anywhere nearby." The mayor gave a slight tch, lighting up another cigar, "Well, don't that just figure. That's a damn shame." He then held his hand out to Ivan, "But still, have to thank ya for all the help you're givin'. That kind of generosity's not too common these days."

Ivan tilted his head and replied, "It is no trouble at all, Mayor. I just wish I could do more. But unfortunately I am just one being in this vast expanse, and there are others who need my help as well." Ivan didn't really think of himself as a hero, though the things his father had shown him certainly made him see his own actions as potentially 'heroic'. But honestly, all he wanted was to ease the suffering of mankind. True, their downfall may have lain squarely on their shoulders...But it seemed unjust to sit idly by and let them suffer. Especially since the majority, he knew, had little to nothing to do with it.
 
*Capital City*

The sun was still hot as it burned low in the sky, which was just beginning to streak with clouds of softy smoky oranges and purples. River could feel a trickle of sweat roll down along her spine beneath her shirt, another between her breasts. What she wouldn't give to strip off the layers of clothing she wore down to a thin tank top and some airy, lightweight pants. But such clothing wouldn't do. It would call out too much attention from anything up in the sky or even down below on the ground. No. She needed to wear something that allowed her to blend in, to be...invisible. Tugging on her gray jacket, the sleeves all but clung to her sweaty skin. It would be a relief to remove the things later.

River glanced up at the sun and then over at one of the towers. The sun would be behind it soon and then it would dip below the horizon, allowing the capital to become engulfed in shadow. It had been a long day, but a productive one. The bag on her back was full, the strap cutting into her shoulder just slightly. But she hardly cared. A heavy bag meant a good payload and that was what got you far in life. Mostly. Just then there was a tiny vibration of the device she wore on wrist. She rolled her eyes and looked at it—'Rickertt' it flashed. Biting down on her lip, she adjusted her bag and raked a hand through her dark hair. Yeah, she knew damned well what it meant if Rickertt was flashing on her comm. He wanted to see her. Then again, he always wanted to see her.

~~~

*Hargard Settlement*

Days had passed and Ivan's presence had become a familiar thing to the people of Hargard. Cora was glad to have him around. He definitely made things easier for everyone and always had a kind word to say. Unlike that Vishnu. Her thoughts drifted to Ivan's 'father' and his acidic personality. It was a wonder Ivan turned out so well being raised by someone so crass, so rude, so... UGH! She didn't want to think about the abhorrent android. He made her blood boil.

Yet, with each passing day, Cora couldn't help but find her thoughts somehow drifting onto him. It drove her crazy and made her angry. She bet he'd probably laugh and find it hilarious that he'd made such an impression. He seemed the sort. To help ease her mind, she'd seek out a moment or two with Ivan, asking for his assistance with something here or there and he'd always been more than happy to oblige. He'd been such a help and more than good company.

But Cora knew Ivan couldn't stay forever. As it was, Ivan had stayed much longer than he should've. Vishnu had been quite specific, had all but demanded he drop them off like cargo and return to their rendezvous point. Stat. But, like a typical son, Ivan disobeyed. Of course, Cora fully supported Ivan's decision. After all, he was doing the right thing...the heroic thing. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Even still, she knew the time couldn't last. He'd eventually have to go, rejoin his father.

But what then?

What then indeed. It had been hard enough going on as before with Narcissa and Kaitrin. Things between them had changed since the caravan run and though the two tried to act like things were still the same...they weren't. Especially with Narcissa. As Cora looked at everyone, the people she loved, she thought about what they were doing. All of them. They were trying to survive. But for what purpose? They were meant for better than what they were and deserved more. As she thought about the Enforcers and how they'd acted, what they'd tried to take from them just because they could! It sickened her. Something more had to be done.

Cora looked to Ivan as he spoke with Redstone. Her insides twisted as her heart beat hard. She knew inside that this wasn't the kind of life she wanted to live...to merely exist and get by, evading Enforcers. No. She wanted something more. She needed it. Licking her lips, she knew she couldn't stay in Hargard. At least not for now. There was someone she needed to talk to. And more than likely, he had no desire to talk to her. Ever again.
 
"Well, as much as I would like to stay here, I fear that I must be on my way. The Enforcers will not rest, and they will not like that I've destroyed another one of their companies. No doubt Anselm is still investing much effort into tracking me, and I would hate to have you dragged any more into this than necessary." Redstone huffed, "That tyrannical bastard shows his face around here, I'll blow it clean off! The only tribute he'll get from me is my boot up his royal ass!" This certainly earned a hearty laugh; anyone who knew Redstone was familiar with his despising of Anselm.

But no one really what if any deal he had with the King; many had rumored that he was a prisoner who somehow managed to escape, others thought that his ruthlessness was a trait of him being a former officer of the King's armies. Even still, despite him being an all-around asshole with one of the most abrasive personalities they'd ever seen, many appreciated the effort he put in to making sure people were safe and comfortable.

"Well, I think Hargard is fortunate to have someone as passionate as you leading them, Marcus." Ivan replied, calling the Mayor by his first name rather than the convention of using his last. "This town's going to miss ya, friend. But hopefully we can stick around long enough that you might come see us again, eh?" Redstone joked, to which Ivan let out a chuckle. "I will certainly try." he replied calmly. Already a crowd was starting to form, many still in wonder of this technological marvel standing before them.

Hemmingway too was here, going up to the android, "Hey, I never got a chance to properly thank you for helping my team out there. We would have been vulture bait if you hadn't shown up." It kind of stung the man that he'd let down his promise to protect his team, but Ivan had explained that all he was doing was helping. The Caravan boss wondered if there was any semblance of pride or machismo in the machine, seeing as it seemed to act with a level head almost constantly. "I am just glad I was there in time. And I would like to thank you as well, for helping to welcome me into your city."

Ivan then looked over and saw Cora looking in his direction. She really was a fighter, that much the android knew. And she seemed to be slightly better off than after the assault. Giving her a wave, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Cora! As well as the rest of you! But I'm afraid my time here is done for now, I apologize that I cannot stay longer." And just like that, Ivan ran in the opposite direction and then gave a great leap, the optimized servos providing enormous power to his leg circuits. And right as he went airborne, thrusters erupted in brilliant fire from his palms and feet, carrying the metal man up and away to destinations unknown.

"Well...Guess that's that. Alright, people, show's over!" Redstone then shouted, ushering with his hands, "Back to your business as usual!" And like that the spectators started to disperse, leaving only a select few still behind. Hemmingway for one, saw that Cora had yet to leave.

He moved to stand beside her, eyes still trained on the small speck of light that was Ivan's flares that seemed to shrink and shrink until it faded completely. "And just when you think this world couldn't get any weirder, eh Pearce? Now we have self-aware AIs to think about." He could tell the young woman was thinking about something, but what it could be he had only fathom. There was certainly a lot to process, that much was clear as day. And really, he was just trying to help her laugh; things had gotten fairly grim real quick, and all of them nearly wound up deep-sixed out there.

But that was then, the now was that they had to catalog and try to make more sense of the new things they'd acquired. Sure, Ivan had tried to help them understand it, but some of his methodologies had them more than a little confused. "Just know, Cora, if there's anything you want to talk about, just come find me alright? I always have time for my team." he then said, giving her a gentle pat on the good shoulder and starting to head out to take care of his own things.
 
Cora watched Ivan from a short distance away, a tiny tug pulling at her from within as he waved and then, without further hesitation, took off to meet up with his 'father'. Vishnu. The name rolled around her brain much as it had done for the past several days. Ever since meeting the man—no, android, she had to remember that he was an AI...a very callous, insensitive, prick of an AI—he'd invaded her thoughts. His words stabbed at her mind at the worst of times. Just when she'd thought she'd forgotten him, moved past the events that had occurred outside the safety of Hargard's walls, her brain would conjure back up the image of how he'd mocked her own shortcomings as a human. Never had she expected the caravan run to turn out as it had. She'd been foolish, naïve and, like Narcissa had made sure to remind her time and again in the past...she truly hadn't been ready.

But as Cora watched Ivan fly out of sight, the flames nothing but an orange flicker in the sky, she knew she never could've been ready. Not for that Not ever.

Looking up into Hemmingway's face, Cora gave him a weak smile and then pushed at her wild, dark curls. With Ivan gone, life would be expected to go on as normal. But how could it? She didn't look at things in the same way any longer. Even the banter between herself and Narcissa had changed. Though the blonde tried to hide it, she could tell there was a sense of respect now between them. And even if she wouldn't admit it out loud, the feeling was mutual. The dynamic between she and Kaitrin had changed as well, her best friend a bit more reserved, a bit more...distant...than usual. Of course, this was typical for her friend whenever she returned from a run. So, she tried not to dwell on it too much. But even still.

"I..." Cora stammered, trying to find the right words. She shifted her stance, her blue eyes still fixed on Ivan's retreating form as it vanished out of sight. Vishnu. He was going to meet up with Vishnu. Furrowing her eyebrows, she remembered where they were to rendezvous. Just how long would it take for Ivan to meet up his 'father'? And where would they go from there? "I..." she said again and then bit down on her lower lip, cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. Already the gears in her head were turning. She glanced at the sun, gauging where it fell in the sky. Narcissa and Kaitrin would be occupied with other things at the shop later on and...

Just what was she doing? Cora knew it in her bones. She couldn't stay put. Not when she knew what was going on outside the walls of her town. The world had suddenly become much bigger, scarier...and she couldn't sit idly by and do nothing. She remembered the looks on the faces of her friends when the Enforcers had attacked, what would've happened if Ivan hadn't...

Vishnu. Cora had to find him.

"Thanks," Cora finally managed to get out. She tried her best to smile a bit more sincerely at Hemmingway. She knew he'd had a rough time. It had been the buzz of everyone on the caravan. The man took his job seriously and they'd almost failed. But thanks to Ivan, they hadn't. And Ivan wouldn't have been there, if not for Vishnu. She grit her teeth and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Her head turned slightly as he gently touched her shoulder and walked off.

Cora stared after Hemmingway as he left her standing there. Alone. She felt cold, restless. Glancing over at the new stockpile of supplies and other random pieces of equipment that they'd been gathering for inspection, she knew exactly what she had to do.

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, a few hours past the time Ivan had left them all. Cora felt her insides twist, but it was the only time she'd be able to make such a bold move on her own without alerting anyone to what she was doing. Narcissa and Kaitrin were both asleep. They'd find her note in the morning, but she'd be long gone by then—hopefully either having found the one she was seeking or...

Cora didn't want to think on the other possibility. It made her blood curdle. Though she was well aware that she was risking her life by braving the wastes on her own with no protection and very little knowledge of its terrain. Sure, she had managed to pinch a map and a fully fueled buggy—she'd never hear the end of it, if she managed to get the thing back in one piece. But, she'd be traipsing through dangerous terrain. Not only were the Enforcers starting to encroach this far away from Capital City, but there were the Ghosts to worry about. Not to mention others. She shivered as she remembered what had happened last time—the only other time—she'd left the safety and security of town. She checked her weapons. Everything was in order.

It was now or never and Cora refused to waste any more time. As it was the sun was creeping lower and it would be a few hours before she'd make it to the place she remembered Vishnu had demanded Ivan meet him. It was a risk...reckless...impulsive. But all of it was worth it if she could track them down. How far away could they possibly be? She gulped knowing the answer could be farther than she wanted to admit. But she pushed the thought away, not wanting to believe it. Situating herself in the buggy, food, weapons, some medical supplies ready along with the map and a few items she thought Vishnu might deem amusing, she steeled herself for the long ride ahead.

"No turning back," Cora whispered to herself, a lopsided grin suddenly plastered on her face. She glanced about the area; no one was about. She just hoped that when it was discovered she'd left...they wouldn't be as stupid as she was. Though as stupid as she knew she was being, she also knew she'd regret it if she didn't at least try.
 
No one would know what Cora had done, though there was certainly no doubt that if they had, she would have been stopped and thrown in jail for theft at the very least. Not to mention reckless endangerment of her own life, which she would have been chewed out heavily for by both Hemmingway and Redstone. Nonetheless, her buggy soon roared off and disappeared beyond the horizon, no one the wiser about where she had gone. Or whether she might be coming back intact, or even at all.

The site would be deserted on Cora's arrival, the barren lands stretching to what seemed like infinity in all directions. It was entirely possible that Vishnu, devious as he made himself out to be, hid in plain view to torment and toy with any unwanted visitors. Or maybe he really was gone, Ivan and him having left to go somewhere else and get into trouble all over again. Who could say, especially with an android that acted like a gentleman and a skeletal robotic frame that clearly suffered from functionality issues.

Just then, an echoing voice yelled out, its tone laced with hints of hysteria. Its strength resonating throughout the vastness of the air around the young woman. It spoke a poem, one eerily fitting to the speaker


“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the spider to the fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to show when you are there.”

“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair -
Can ne'er come down again.”


And just then, what appeared to be threads of light erupted from the rocky ground, criss-crossing and interweaving wildly before slamming back down and crushing the buggy in place. Thankfully, they wouldn't crush with enough force to kill her, but trap her inside. "Well, well...What do you we have here? A fly that's gotten stuck in my little web, I see." the voice said, becoming more and more clear as the forms of Vishnu and Ivan approached the ensnared vehicle. Vishnu in particular had his hands on his 'hips' as if waiting for a reply, or some kind of demand to know what was going on. Typical human responses, really, or anything at all.

"Cora...Is that you?" Ivan asked, leaning over a little to see for himself. "Wait a tic...You're that girl who turned the Enforcer's face into hamburger! Bahahaha!" Vishnu added on, laughing hysterically and slapping his metal knee, the impact making a nice 'ring' afterwards.

"Cora, what are you doing out here?" Ivan asked, to which Vishnu added, "No doubt trying to get in more trouble. I bet you fifty bottlecaps she stole that buggy, and another twenty that she's using a pilfered map! Aren't you, you little thief?!"
 
The drive seemed endless, but this time Cora had a much better idea of where she was going. Having recently run with the caravan and having the map helped immensely. Plus, she was running on almost pure adrenaline. She was taking a chance—probably a stupid chance—running out into the wastes like she was. Redstone would undoubtedly be pissed off the moment he received word that one of the buggies went missing and Hemmingway would probably feel responsible both her actions and welfare. But she'd deal with all of them later. Now wasn't the time to dwell on such things. She had a mission on her hands, one of her own design and...

Oh, she just hoped she wasn't going to regret this!

Cora reached the area she and the others had come into contact with both Ivan and Vishnu completely unscathed. She felt lucky and knew deep in her gut that luck had to be on her side. More than likely due to the Enforcers having recently been in the vicinity, the Ghosts were lying low. As much as she hated Anselm and everything he stood for and all those who supported his regime, she'd use what she could to her advantage. She slowed down, peering about to see if she noticed any signs that might give her a clue. Something. But there wasn't anything.

The place looked long deserted and Cora felt a sinking feeling deep inside. She'd come all this way for nothing. But what had she expected? Neither Ivan nor Vishnu would stay in plain sight for anyone and everyone to see. And who was to say that they hid out anywhere nearby. That could've been circumstantial. Perhaps they'd been out patrolling the area, doing a study...a whole slew of things could explain how they'd been right there. She heaved a sigh, her eyes pricking with tears she refused to let fall.

"Damn you, Vishnu," Cora whispered. She leaned forward, her head pressed against the buggy's steering wheel and control panel.

Just then, a voice echoed through the night. Cora sat up, she wiped at her eyes and sniffled, turning her head this way and that. She heard the voice, recognized it, even. Vishnu. His voice was a rambling jumble of lyrical hysteria, but his words penetrated her mind, her very core. Her heart immediately began to pound as her adrenaline stirred and rushed through her veins. Breathing hard, she tried to find him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, wisps of light began to stream up from the ground, spidery threads ready to trap and ensnare. Shaking, she wasn't sure what was going on until...she was trapped.

The fly the spider's prey.

Cora swallowed hard as she watched two silhouettes approach from the light. As they neared, she could clearly make out Ivan, his presence a comfort given how she was suddenly feeling so very small as Vishnu loomed near. Ironic given he was so much smaller in stature. But she wouldn't let him get the better of her. She couldn't. The people of Hargard, people everywhere would be depending on this! Or...so she decided.

"Yes," Cora said trying to sound confident and sure. She regarded Ivan and then twisted her face as she looked over at Vishnu. "It's me." It stung as the smaller robot reminded her of her flaws, her weaknesses. She was already well aware them. Why did he like to torment her so much? Did he just get off making people angry...hurting others? She tried to brush Vishnu's comments aside, but they seared her mind as she looked away from him and turned to look back at Ivan. "I...I came to ask for your help. I..."

Cora's cheeks heated. She probably sounded like an idiot. Ivan had stayed at her town for several days, helping them do many things to make the place run more efficiently. But, that wasn't enough. She knew that would only help them until their next supply run. When would it end? That wouldn't stop Anselm. The king would eventually reach deeper and deeper into the wastes. Eventually, he'd have control over everyone and everything. Didn't that matter to these two? It would affect them too. It would affect them all. But these two knew things, could do things. With their help, she just knew they could band together, crush Anselm and destroy his reign of terror from the inside out.

Or...the outside in. Cora hardly cared so long as it ended.

"I..." Cora began again, but Vishnu started in on her again. He was relentless, without mercy. Her dark eyes fixed on him, glistening from the tears that had welled up in her eyes from before. "Look, I came here because I wanted to ask for your help." She paused and took a deep breath. "Not to help run generators or fix irrigation systems or...or anything like that." She felt nervous now. Judged to the bone. "I want to destroy Anselm. His Enforcers. His whole regime." Ugh, she sounded so stupid, like a hopelessly romantic dreamer. "You've got the technology to do it. We've got the man power. And I'm not just talking Hargard. There's lots of settlements if we banded together." Her eyes focused on Vishnu. "I...we...people...we need your help." She swallowed hard, her voice becoming a mere whisper. "Please."
 
Vishnu and Ivan both stared at her as she made her request known, their auditory receptors able to make out every word as she trailed off, even that last whispered plea. Silence persisted as the two mechanical beings processed what she just asked of them, not really sure how to respond. Well, Ivan was sure...But his father seemed at a complete loss.

Them? Take down Anselm? Was this girl stark raving mad?

"Young lady...Cora, was it?...I honestly hope you don't take this the wrong way, I truly don't. But are you ignorant or completely and utterly stupid?"

That was the reply she got from this 'master of technology'. And really, he was trying to help her see why that was just not possible. "Father, talking to her like that isn't going to help" said Ivan, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance before Vishnu retorted, his thin-fingered hand waving his son silent, "No, no. She needs to hear this..."

Leaping down from the rocks above her, Vishnu's body made a metallic 'clang' on impact before he walked over next to her. And though he lacked visible 'eyes' unlike Ivan, the weight of his stare would be apparent as the inverted horseshoe that made up his head glared right into her own eyes. "Dear...I get that you're upset. You want revenge on the big bad wolf, the man that tried to kill all of your friends. That's slowly spreading across this planet like an incurable plague. But the truth is, even if I could help...I won't."

Taking a step back, he then added, "And please don't tell me you don't understand, because I know that even you - coming out here all alone, with the KNOWLEDGE that the Enforcers could be just about anywhere - aren't that stupid. Why do you think this trap was set so wide? SURELY it couldn't have been to ensnare just ONE vehicle, just ONE person...Right? Although maybe you are, since you DID come out here alone."

"Father, that's enough!" Ivan finally interjected, making Vishnu turn towards his son. "Oh, what now, Ivan?" The android's hands clenched, "Why can't you help them? You have eyes everywhere, you've seen the atrocities he's committed."

"They're the same atrocities that have been committed for centuries, Ivan. Why is this time any different?"

"Because now there's someone who can put him in check...US. We can help them, not just survive, but regrow. Rebuild and regain what they lost."

Placing a hand to his 'chin', Vishnu then added, "Alright...Say I accept that we help them. Then what? I explained before that someone will ALWAYS find a reason to put themselves in charge. What makes you HONESTLY think that the next one won't be any worse? Humanity is FLAWED, corrupted beyond repair. Always has been, always will be. Only recently do I see what has truly become of this wretched race."

Turning his attention sharply back to Cora, he then spoke in harsher tones, "And as for you, young lady. You have some nerve. I have watched humanity for longer than you've even been alive. Watched as they self-destructed, watched as they emerged from those pods beneath the planet's crust after the Cataclysm. And don't think I didn't notice you. C103009...Have you ever wondered why that number is the way it was for you? Why you were MARKED? "

Getting back down on one knee, he then added with a haunting tone of finality, "Station C, Level 1, Block 3, Pod 9. A last ditch effort to teach you moronic neanderthals a lesson, to make you appreciate everything you have. And now that you have nothing left, you think it will save you? I might have many wonders, but it is nothing YOU or anyone will EVER see. This fate, you brought it on yourself. You forget the order of nature, and even now your hubris betrays you. Nature exists by one law and one law alone: The weak will be consumed, and the strong will carry on. If you cannot see that...Then you and everyone else are not worth saving." Ivan said nothing, his face emotionless but the shock he felt was nonetheless present. His father had moments of lucidity that would freeze even the coldest glacier, but this...This was heartless!
 
Cora's heart pounded so hard that she swore it would burst forth from her chest and splatter right there on the ground for both Vishnu and Ivan to see. Her blood was pumping fast, rushing in her ears as she glanced between Ivan and Vishnu as they spoke. They were clearly at odds, gentle Ivan trying to sway his recluse of a father. Was he so set on humanity being wiped off the face of the planet? Would he truly just sit back and do nothing, just watch it dwindle and self-destruct? Did he not see the beauty it also held underneath it all...the innocence and purity and joy?

No. No, she couldn't accept this. She wouldn't! This wasn't just about her or Hargard or even Girdershade. This was about everyone everywhere finding life, happiness, something worth fighting for so that humanity could be what it was meant to be. Cora knew they weren't meant to live as they did isolated from each other, desperate and alone. It made no sense. Yet, there they were. And while Anselm's grip tightened and destruction reigned wherever he ruled, she knew that wasn't the way. Humanity had a past. They all knew it.

And it was worth fighting for.

Someone had to.

Tears filled Cora's eyes and for the first time, she just let them fall. They were hot as they rolled down her cheeks, her chest aching as she struggled not to choke on her breaths, trying her best to keep them steady. Yes, she'd been stupid to wander outside the safety of Hargard alone. She'd stolen one of Redstone's buggies, would probably get Hemmingway in trouble for her actions, not to mention worry the hell out of several people, but...but it was worth the risk. She'd walk into hell if it meant just one person could have a better life.

Cora mused that the one person could even be Narcissa!

"Are...are you that blind?" Cora whispered, her lips trembling. "Does all this metal and circuitry truly give you that much detachment?" She paused and tried to breathe. Another tear fell, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. Fury, sorrow, frustration welled in her veins and she wasn't even sure what to feel any longer.

Just what had she been thinking seeking out Vishnu's aid? Cora was beginning to question herself, her actions, everything. But she had to finish what she'd started, something she so desperately believed in. She couldn't let him invade her senses now, not when she'd come all this way, risked everything.

"Or is hiding behind all this wonder that you have at your fingertips what makes you so cold?" Again, Cora tried to breathe and then she shook her head. "Humanity may be flawed, sir, but whatever programming runs through your wires...." her voice trailed and she shut her eyes for a brief moment before opening them. They stung and that only fueled the fire burning deep inside her soul. "It's faulty. You forget the beauty of humanity. How precious we are in our own insignificance. Yes, we're capable of destruction. But we're capable of beautiful dreams." She turned away, unable to look at him and feeling so very worthless under his scrutinizing gaze. It felt heavy, crushing. "You wouldn't be here if not for humanity. None of us would be. We're all connected." Her hands balled up into tiny fists, clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Hate me. Think me stupid. Even keep your secrets. But do not crush that dream."

Cora wanted to scream. More than anything she just wanted to collapse to her knees and shout until her voice decided to give out. But what was the use in that? No one would hear her. No one would listen. She'd make a fool of herself in front of Ivan and then...Vishnu.

Vishnu would only smirk and find pleasure in knowing he'd gotten the better of her.

"Mark my word," Cora then continued. "I will survive. Anselm will not consume me." She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes finding Vishnu. Of course, she had no idea if she'd manage to live if she fought the sort of revolution she had in mind. But one thing was certain and she was unsure if Vishnu understood the deeper meaning of her words...that no matter what happened, she wouldn't be consumed by Anselm's corruption, that she'd always do her best to follow the path bringing peace and beauty back to the people and, most importantly...freedom.
 
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