The hospital buzzed with activity as Yareli entered its halls, Johan following close behind her. Typical of hospitals, everything was sanitary, cleaned to a white sheen. It was a far cry from the grimy back-alley joint Johan had been forced to use. Nurses went swiftly about their business, hurrying to complete their next duty. The aftermath of the Bifrost Police Department Massacre provided them with plenty of business. The waiting room was packed with people, and Yareli had to push her way through. People gave the odd woman in the full biker uniform strange looks, but she ignored them.
Minutes passed, and Rebecca wandered into the waiting room. The girl looked a mess, eyes puffy from crying. "I'm glad you came so quickly. Davidson gave us a ride as soon as he heard."
"Is your mother okay?" Yareli gave her friend a tight, reassuring hug. The girl accepted the kind gesture gratefully.
"Terrible mess it was," Samuel said, walking over with a cup of coffee cupped in his hand. Rebecca gave a grateful nod when he handed it over. "I can hardly believe it."
After taking a sip of coffee, the girl finally spoke. "She'll live, but the damage is pretty bad. There'll be terrible scarring, mostly on her face. The doctors are talking about skin grafts. They're hopeful about repairing most of the damage."
"Thank goodness." Yareli paused before asking her next question, knowing it'd be a sensitive topic. "So, what happened?"
"Yeah, your mom works for Ymir? Since when?" Johan's voice held a hint of accusation. Yareli sighed. Like usual, the Jotnar stumbled into sensitive subjects like a clumsy bull.
Rebecca, however, seemed unperturbed by his tone, answering truthfully. "My mom works as Ymir's Chief Strategy Officer. She's pretty high on the food chain. She's known their president, Mark Wilson, since forever. I've met him at parties my mom sometimes drags me to."
"What?!" Johan sputtered, mouth open in complete shock.
Yareli, however, wasn't surprised. This answered the little questions she'd always wondered about. She'd sensed a grudge against Ymir that spanned long before she'd met the girl.
"I'm not a spy, if that's what you're wondering," Rebecca said. "Truthfully, I joined the Jotnar because I was bored. It's dull being Laura Lauper's daughter, and I wanted to do some mischief."
Rebecca's expression soured, her face creasing into a scowl. "I'd always suspected Ymir was doing shady crap, but I never imagined they'd attempt anything close to this Ragnarök insanity. I don't hate my mom or anything, but she should know better. They're trying to take over the world, for goodness' sake!"
"You know, Becca, I never realized how heroic you are," Samuel said, a dumb grin plastered over his face.
"Someone has to do something," Rebecca replied.
"Samuel, you knew about this?" Johan gave Samuel a suspicious glance.
"Obviously," Samuel said, nonplussed.
"And you never told the rest of us?!" Johan said, his hackles raised.
"Because Becca's family situation isn't your business," Samuel replied. Considering her relationship with her father, Yareli sympathized with Rebecca's position. The lie of omission didn't bother Yareli as much as she expected. Samuel was right, as usual.
"So, what caused your mother's burns?" Yareli said, interrupting Johan's further protests. "Was it Reine?"
"I'm not sure." Rebecca shook her head. "I couldn't get my mom to speak about it. Detective Anderson is here. Maybe you can finagle the truth out of him."
"Isn't that him over there?" Samuel pointed towards the shabby-looking detective fumbling with a coffee machine.
"Detective Anderson!" The officer jerked his head up in surprise as Yareli approached, just as he struggled to get the machine to accept his credit card.
"Ilma? What are you doing here?" The detective blinked in confusion before dawning realization struck him as Rebecca followed behind her. "Right. Your friend Rebecca is the daughter of the victim. I thought I recognized her."
"What happened?" Yareli asked. "Is it true Rebecca's mother got attacked?"
The detective raked his fingers through his hair. "Unfortunately, Lauper isn't coherent yet. Heck, this entire business doesn't make sense. Everyone's saying five different things!"
"Just give us the most concrete details," Yareli said.
"Last night at around 20:30, someone who looked like Ymir's president attacked Ymir's security guards without provocation," Anderson replied. "There was something odd about him—inhuman, somehow. But I can confirm one thing. Mark Wilson, president of Ymir, is dead. We found his body while searching Ymir's headquarters, locked away in a storage area in a cooler."
Yareli gave an involuntary gasp of surprise, unable to believe her ears. She'd seen the man alive only yesterday. It was unreal. This news would devastate her father. "No way."
"Really? And you're telling me Reine was his killer?" Johan didn't hide his skepticism.
"They haven't performed the autopsy yet, but Wilson had a hole burned through his chest. Whether the idol was responsible for his death hasn't been determined."
"Anything else?" Yareli asked.
Anderson scratched at the nape of his neck. "Several people are dead—burned to death by the fake Wilson creature. Not sure how yet. Your father, Ilma, was involved in a fight against it. He's alive but injured. He's here in St. Lucy, but hasn't regained consciousness yet."
"Father." If Yareli had a heart, it'd be beating out of her chest. "Can you arrange a visit?"
"That wouldn't be advisable." Anderson grimaced. "The other Ilma is here. I doubt the nursing staff would appreciate a brawl in their halls, but I'll see what I can do."
Yareli gave a muted nod, already expecting this answer. How would she even prove she was family, anyway? Would they even accept someone who refused to show their face? Still, it gnawed at her that she couldn't visit him. So unfair. She was his real daughter, dammit! Not whatever that robot was!
The detective's phone beeped. "Sorry, I need to answer this. I'll keep you posted." He paused. "Please don't tell anyone I leaked this much about my investigation."
After Anderson left, they returned to the waiting area. They'd agreed to wait until they got better answers about the situation. Yareli wanted to stay, at least until her father awoke. Despite the issues between them, worry ate away at Yareli. How could she not? She dared not leave his side, no matter what happened.
---
"Can I get you anything, Father?" ID-01 asked, attentive as always. "Should I order you some food?"
"No, it's alright." Halvorsen grabbed his makeshift daughter's hand, gripping it tight. Despite not exactly having emotions, she had a powerful desire to protect him. "I just need some rest."
"Okay, Father." The girl wished to say more but kept silent.
Nurses attended to him, but Halvorsen waved their concerns away. Already he was regaining his strength. He'd need it in the coming days. It pained him to be bedridden, but charging after Surtur half-assed while injured helped no one. Besides, it offered him time to consider and plan. Surtur wouldn't find Halvorsen so unprepared during their next meeting.
Halvorsen turned on the TV screen using a remote. He scanned each channel, searching for news on their new foe. It surprised him that there hadn't been any more attacks. While only a theory, Halvorsen guessed he'd seriously wounded the creature. It provided little comfort once Surtur uncovered the Ragnadriver's secrets. They wouldn't remain hidden from Surtur's advanced AI forever.
"Father, may I ask you a question?" ID-01 said, watching as a Ymir commercial came on screen. Reine, Ymir's famous idol, hawked the merits of Ymir's new teleportation technology. It ended with one of her jingles, fluffy and catchy.
"What exactly are Reine's motives?" the girl asked. "Why would Mallory's death push her to such lengths? By all accounts, it was an accident."
Halvorsen only shook his head and sighed. "Humans are like that. Grief pushes them to desperate and foolish actions sometimes. It's how we are."
"Is it so important that Reine has someone to blame, despite knowing the truth?" ID-01 tilted her head, not exactly understanding the point.
"I fear Reine's hatred is the only thing keeping her alive. She might have nothing else to live for."
The girl had been famous, with a healthy and generous stipend from Ymir. Wilson had doted on her, treating her like the daughter he'd never had. Yet, it hadn't been enough to heal her wounded heart. He feared her soul was diseased beyond repair. Another mistake he'd need to fix.
"It seems pointless to me. Human behavior continues to elude me."
This brought a genuine smile to Halvorsen's lips. "You aren't the only one."
"Yes, humans are full of contradictions," a new, elderly voice said. ID-01 moved protectively to guard over her father, entering a fighting stance. Much to Halvorsen's astonishment, the old man from the repair shop entered his hospital room.
"You have nothing to fear from me, young lady." Davidson watched ID-01 in amusement.
"What are you doing here? Only close family are allowed to visit." Halvorsen waved his guardian to stand down, which she reluctantly did after several tense moments.
"I'm an old man." Davidson huffed a chuckle, mischief glittering in his eye. "Few pay any attention to my kind. Young lady, do you mind if I speak to your father alone? We have much to discuss."
ID-01 gave her father a skeptical glance, but he nodded. While he dreaded this conversation, it needed to be done.
"She seems like a good girl. Very dutiful to her father," Davidson said, watching ID-01 throw him a reluctant glance before leaving.
"Yes, it's a trait she's developed on her own, actually." The contrast between when he'd first activated ID-01 and now always stunned him. She became more human every day. Halvorsen was eager to see how far she'd developed in five years. While simulated by an AI, ID-01's love helped fill the chasm in his heart caused by so much tragedy.
"It's a trait she shares with Yareli—the other Ilma," Davidson said. While he'd known the subject was coming, Halvorsen still winced.
"'Dutiful' isn't the word I'd use." Back then, Ilma had enjoyed finding ways to rebel against his wishes. It always drove him up the wall. Yet, somehow, he missed it, wishing ID-01 shared it.
"Nonsense. Yareli is a very loving girl," Davidson said, his tone chiding. "Somewhat of a loner, but she cares about people. Including you, even now."
"Really?" Halvorsen kept his tone neutral.
"I've never seen her so distraught. It's clear to see, even if she doesn't possess human features."
"What do you expect me to do?" Unexpected anger exploded from Halvorsen's mouth. "Do you expect me to just accept her? Why are you so convinced she didn't kill my real daughter?"
"Despite everything, she still loves you," Davidson replied, voice steady. "She's sitting in the waiting room right now, fretting that she can't visit you."
Halvorsen didn't reply, stewing over his turbulent emotions. Davidson continued, filling the silence.
"I raised her, you know. I found her alone in a sewer drain, lost, confused, and without any memories. Yes, she was only a skeleton, but also a lost child. She needed help."
Memories of the accident returned with vivid, painful clarity. After Mallory had died fighting to protect him, his daughter had collapsed. The strain of the prototype Angra Armlet had killed her. Overwhelmed with grief, Halvorsen had hurled the wolf Uhyre key out the window.
"So that's what happened afterward." The key must have tried to recreate Ilma's original body, hence the skeletal form.
"She's a willful girl, but also kind and courageous," Davidson said, giving Halvorsen a sly look. "Sound familiar?"
"It doesn't change the fact she might be a copy!" Halvorsen stubbornly crossed his arms. His Yareli wasn't innocent. She'd gone on a rampage, slaughtering several Niflhel. Was the other man aware of this fact? Would he love her so quickly then? He opened his mouth to offer such a point, but Davidson interrupted him.
"We're arguing in circles. That isn't why I came. I'm here to ask for your help."
"Oh?" The change in subject surprised Halvorsen.
"Yareli's sword got destroyed during her fight with that miscreant, Reine. I've tried my best, but weapon design isn't my field. I was wondering if you'd help me design a new weapon for her."
Halvorsen considered this news. Without her gun/sword, Fenrir was so much weaker. While still dangerous, she was more manageable. "And why would I do this?"
"Need I say more?" Davidson gestured toward Halvorsen's numerous injuries. "Didn't I hear some creature attacked you?"
"Right." Halvorsen scowled, getting his point. While he didn't trust her, Fenrir was a powerful warrior. They'd need her help to defeat Reine and Surtur. Simensen was a wild card he dared not trust.
"I'll consider it," Halvorsen said, his answer noncommittal. He required time to dwell on this quandary.
"And please, allow Yareli to visit you. She misses you dearly."
"I'll consider it!" Without meaning to, Halvorsen's voice rose several octaves.
"Oh dear, I fear I must be going." Davidson glanced toward the door. They both heard footsteps pounding toward it.
"Please be gentle with your questioning. The patient is still recovering," the nurse assigned to Halvorsen's room said. She led two shabby-looking detectives into the room. It shocked her to find the unexpected guest in Halvorsen's room.
"Excuse me. I'll be leaving now." After a bow, Davidson left before the nurse could comment on his presence.
The head detective seemed equally baffled, but recovered quickly and withdrew a notebook. "Sorry to bother you, sir. We have some questions that need answering."
"Sure." They needed to know the truth about Surtur. Still, Halvorsen's mind drifted toward the retreating Davidson, considering his request. Was he seriously considering it? He felt a wave of gratitude for the man who had basically raised his daughter's doppelgänger. Despite their differences, she deserved that love and attention.
A plan formulated in his head, coming unbidden despite his protests. He considered the possibilities and what best suited Fenrir's fighting style. While Halvorsen hadn't committed to answering yet, he'd be damned if he got caught unprepared again.
While he recounted his story, more ideas appeared in his head. Doubt bubbled to the surface again, hating all the uncertainties. He couldn't stop wondering if Fenrir was their greatest asset or greatest enemy. Worse, seeing her again terrified him far beyond facing Surtur's evil might.
Dammit. Why couldn't Fenrir just be a monster like Surtur?
---
"Still no sign? Think he's gone to ground?" Palmer asked, passing over his binoculars. Dino wasn't sure what his partner expected to find, but it offered a slim chance of spotting their target. The police scanner buzzed with activity, but they hadn't reported anything about their quarry.
"No. Surtur isn't the type." Dino's gut told him Surtur wouldn't be eager to cause trouble. Though, he'd expected the monster to show himself already. Had the doctor's attack impacted its vital functionality?
It disturbed him that yet another Ymir experiment had gone awry. Worse still, this Surtur creature shared the president's face but none of his human heart. Despite Ymir crumbling under his feet, Dino owed Wilson a debt to stop his deranged doppelgänger.
Besides, it'd be an excellent opportunity to show up Fenrir once again. She wasn't Bifrost's only resident superhero. He still bore a smug satisfaction from the results of their last encounter. However, victory here wasn't as certain. Surtur could kill with a damned touch.
The problem was finding the creature. Once it had driven off in its stolen car, it had proven surprisingly elusive for a hulking naked man with inhuman orange eyes. If only he'd had the chance to meet the monster back in Ymir's headquarters. Then Dino would have a better chance of sussing out its behavioral patterns.
A yawn escaped Dino's lips. He hadn't slept all night, too intent on hunting Ymir's new enemy. He rubbed at his face, wondering if he should retire for a quick nap. Palmer wasn't as plum exhausted as he was. A quick nap wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like they were any closer to finding their target.
Before Dino could offer his brilliant idea, a flash of sudden insight struck his tired mind. "Surtur stole the prototype Ragnadriver, right?"
"Sir?" Palmer asked as Dino reached for their comm unit.
"Dino here. Headquarters, I have an inquiry about something."
"We hear you." Jake Baker, head of Ymir security, replied.
"I think our friend might go after data on the Ragnadriver. Where might the creature find that information?"
"Makes sense," Jake said after a moment's consideration. "One moment. We'll see what we can do. Almost everyone involved in the project is dead."
A sigh escaped Dino's lips. "Just do your best."
"Oh, I didn't realize you were here," Jake said to someone Dino couldn't see. "Sure, I'll hand it over."
"I believe I can answer your question," the Valkyrie, Pihu, said. "Doctor Halvorsen told me they moved all the data about the Ragnadriver to a private, unconnected server. Ymir scrubbed any remaining data clean. They weren't taking any chances after the Niflhel incident. Can't have an investigator stumbling upon the information. Where it is now, however, I can't tell you. Only Doctor Halvorsen knows at the moment."
"Okay, so it's likely Surtur wouldn't find the information." While comforting, it didn't help them find their quarry. Dino had been hoping the monster would attack random Ymir labs, searching for the information it sought. "Thanks for the intel. We'll keep searching."
"Actually. A thought occurred to me," Pihu said, stopping Dino before he switched off the comm. "There is someone else who is currently researching the Ragnadriver."
"Who?" Dino perked up, alert and curious for answers.
"Ophion Industries," Pihu replied. "I haven't seen it, but by all accounts, their president possesses one."
"Don't remind me." Dino scowled, recalling too well the pain the bastard's poison had caused. He suffered through another involuntary shiver. It'd been a near thing that he'd survived Jörmungandr's deadly poison. "Thanks for the information. We'll keep searching."
"Sounds like a worthy lead," Palmer said.
"True. Might as well investigate." Dino programmed their new destination into the navicomputer, heading toward Ophion Industries' only research laboratory. While it seemed unlikely Surtur would stumble upon some email mentioning Simensen's Ragnadriver, it was better than searching around randomly.
Or was it? Ymir's email system didn't have the highest level of security. And Ymir had suffered because of loose lips before. A sly grin grew on his face. Even if Surtur didn't appear, it provided a useful opportunity to learn how much Ophion Industries knew about the Ragnadriver. Dino wasn't a terrible hacker. He'd teach Ophion the folly of opposing Ymir.