8 - Fics I Read 2.0

FanFiction.Net

Just In

Community

Forum

Stranger Than Fiction (Worm Tinker of Fiction SI) by Throwaway1971

Books » Private Rated: M, English, Romance, Words: 110k+, Favs: 105, Follows: 131, Published: Dec 24, 2023

5Chapter 8: Eighth Page

Disclaimer: I own Jackshit

AN: Well... This has taken a while, for a number of reasons. Straight up, I was actually almost ready to release this chapter about a month ago, but, just as I was about to finish up, my computer decided that it couldn't handle life anymore. Thankfully, I made a backup of the C-drive on it, but that hadn't been updated since I posted the last chapter (Chapter 7), so I basically had to start from scratch, with both this chapter, and with the next chapter for my other story. It didn't help that things have been... Complicated, IRL, so I've found myself with a lack of time to get shit done. However, things seem to be clearing up now, and I've had a bit of time to myself to finally get this put together and ready.

Hope you lot enjoy it, since you have no idea how many times I've rewrote some of the sections in this!

XXX

"So, what's the plan?" Were the first words that I heard from Miranda the day following the completion of Oriana's ritual, as I stepped into the apartment-space, having spent the last night working away in both the Ceph caverns and my studios. Miranda's fingers continued to dance across the keyboard of one of the laptops she'd obtained the previous day, glancing in my direction as she continued to type away. Across the table in front of her, a dozen stacks of papers were all neatly organised around her, some containing personal documents while others were hard-copied of statistics and charts acquired from multiple sources, and printed out for easier comparison.

"Plan?" I questioned back with a raised eyebrow, my thoughts running as I ran through what she was referring to, as the question itself was less than descriptive.

"The plan." Miranda asserted simply with a nod. "You've already stated what our ultimate goals are going to be, even if only indirectly, the removal of the Entities as a threat and the prevention of the 'original' timeline from coming to pass, but how do you intend to have us go about it? And, for that matter, what do you have planned for what comes after?"

"Ah, that plan." I remarked easily enough, as I moved towards the table. Even as I approached, my eyes roved over the table, taking note of new sheets as SECOND scanned them, copying their contents from ink on a page to a data-format stored within my head. New pieces slotted together inside my head, as SECOND ran a cross-check with the newly assimilated information, checking it against both old information and the original sources as it traces back web addresses to the data-servers holding them. An instant later, a compiled report was assimilated into my mind, the results of the cross-check as everything seemed to match with what the Lawson sisters had found thus far. Not that I didn't trust what they'd found over the course of a few days, but I felt it better to be safe than sorry, especially in a world like Earth Bet.

Taking a seat at the table, I turned my eyes back to Miranda, sensors playing across her in turn as an automatic reflex, checking her over for any side-effects of her own ritual, only to find none, as expected. For a moment, I said nothing, gathering my thoughts as, in truth, I didn't have any set plan beyond a basic series of objectives that I hoped to see completed, surviving and killing the Entities being foremost among them.

"I don't really have a plan, so much as I have goals, objectives." I finally spoke, my hands clasped together on the table in front of me as I looked at Miranda. "Most of which are divided between the three main time-scales: Short-term, mid-term and long-term. The long-term objectives are, as you said, to see the Entities dead, along with a few other things, and that Humanity doesn't get reduced back to the stone age or wiped out. However, those are long-term and pretty vague, primarily due to a lack of information in relation to the nature and capabilities of the Entities themselves."

"Makes sense." Miranda commented, her eyes glued to the laptop in front of her as I heard her fingers taping away at the keyboard with her eyes still locked on me. An idle thread of curiosity caused SECOND to spin into action, and thrusting a copy of her current screen to the forefront of my mind, revealing that she was taking notes. Another idle thought had SECOND moving through the laptop itself, upgrading its security software, ensuring that no one else could hack into it without my approval. "I assume the intent is that, as more information is obtained and analysed, these objectives will be expanded upon via additional steps and methods?"

"Yep, though, once more, that's long-term, and not something I'm looking to run head first into, given what I do know about the Warrior's capabilities." At Miranda's look, I explained. "In the original timeline, when Golden Morning started, one energy blast from the Entity's puppet was enough to completely annihilate the entirety of the United Kingdom. As in, one moment it's there, the next, it's gone."

"Oh God..." Miranda pronounced, her eyes wide in shock at the implied power behind such an action. Closing her eyes for a moment and taking a breath, Miranda looked back at me with a nod of agreement. "Given what you've already told me about the Entities, delaying the final confrontation until everything was ready was already looking like the best option, but that just reinforces it."

"You'll get no argument from me." I remarked with a half-smile in return. "In many respects, preparations are a lot more important than raw power, but having both of them in great abundance never hurt. That's one of the reasons that I've been trying to stay as far below the radar of the gangs and the PRT as possible."

"A smart move." Miranda agreed with a nod. "To them, your abilities would have you labeled as a Tinker and approached rapidly, either to be dealt with, or to be impressed into service, due to Tinkers generally being one of the few types of Parahumans that require time and resources before they can hope to defend themselves against such attempts. Though, how some people think they can just force a Tinker into working for them through intimidation, without having to worry about consequences further down the line, I'll never know."

"It probably only works due to some of the extreme examples that are out there, Squealer of the Merchants being the local example, drugged up to the gills and made dependent on them for her next hit." I offered thoughtfully, the related information flashing to the forefront of my mind. The real statistics, rather than the weighted ones that the PRT and Protectorate liked to repeat every chance they could, if only to indirectly intimidate people into joining them. "Admittedly, those examples are rare, despite what the PRT and Protectorate like to broadcast. However, they work well enough as a stick to ensure compliance, helped along by the simple fact that most also offer a carrot in the form of supplies, resources, food, shelter and safety. Never mind the fact that Humans are social creatures, and Stockholm syndrome is a thing that exists, among other things."

"True." Miranda commented with a hum. "Though, while interesting, I think we've gone a bit off-topic. Now, I think we've already covered the long-term goals of the plan, what about short and mid-term?"

"Fair." I acknowledged with a nod, even if it was an admittedly interesting tangent, as Miranda had noted. "For the short-term, the main objectives relate primarily to establishing a stable base of operations, along with an equally stable power base in the region to allow for operations to be carried out with a minimal of outside interference. Obtaining a stable source of resources would also be part of that since, despite how efficient the Ceph can be, they can only gather what is physically present in a given area. Admittedly, there are ways around that, such as transmuting one element into another, but any of the current methods I've got access to are too costly for what they'd produce at the moment, so its easier to just mine and salvage for what's needed."

"I assume by a 'stable power base,' you mean removing the gang, PRT and Protectorate influences in the Brockton Bay and replacing it with your own in some way?" Miranda questioned as her fingers danced across her keyboard once more. "And what about recruitment? You've already mentioned these 'Ceph,' who, I assume, are the helpers you've already told me and Ori about, but what about others?"

"To an extent, yes." I answered easily enough, before explaining further a moment later. "While removing all outside influences would be ideal, that's assuming that nothing moves in to try and replace them in the resulting power vacuum. Replacing the local power structure with something more favourable, such as proxy-groups that could function as replacement gangs on the surface, would allow for a measure of control on any gang-related conflicts. Primarily, it would allow for any conflicts to be directed away from locations of importance and to keep attention to the areas that 'matter' within the city. I'd also want to have some kind of official front put in place, something that could be used to help establish further influence via addressing the underlying problems that allowed the gangs to even exist, while also establishing an alibi for why we're here. At least, on the face of things, anyway."

I paused for a second, another thought coming to me as I continued.

"Well, either that, or having enough control over the region, along with having a big enough stick, to ensure that no one wants to try and find out what would happen if they tried to fill the power vacuum created by the removal of the gangs. Something that I can honestly see as being a more likely option, since it also means we'd be less likely to come into conflict with other groups, at least immediately, at any rate." I added, seeing the possibilities unfold in my mind. It was still some time away from actually happening, but having an idea of what to do could help construct a more solid framework closer to the time.

"Control of the local criminal underworld, either directly or indirectly, plus the influence from revitalizing the city's dying economy with jobs and work, would go a long way to entrenching into the area. Depending on which way it's done, and how carefully, it could even branch out into influence over the local government and the branches of law enforcement, either directly or indirectly." Miranda commented thoughtfully, tapping at her chin with an out-stretched finger as her eyes glanced down at her own notes. "Still, that leaves the problem of getting enough manpower to do it all, and that's without ensuring the loyalty of said manpower."

"Not as much of a problem as you might think." I remarked easily. "The concept of growing, or creating, new individuals is a pretty old concept, and has been incorporated into the technologies present in a large array of different media, several of which I've gained access to, with the capability of producing baseline Humans and AGIs, and just about anything in-between."

"I... See." Miranda offered as I mentioned that, drawing a raised eyebrow from me as I guessed what she might be thinking.

"You disapprove?" I questioned, surprisingly drawing a shake of the head from the gene-engineered woman across from me.

"Not particularly, as I can see utility of doing so." Miranda answered simply. "However, the idea of just creating people to use as disposable tools is... Off-putting, shall we say."

"Fair, and I completely understand what you mean, which is why I'm not going to. Treating people like that, especially when you want them working for you, is rather counter-productive, no matter what kind of mental alterations and conditioning someone might have put in place. It's better, in my opinion, to treat such individuals as such, something that should be helped by some of the augments I'm planning to give them as standard." I countered easily, causing Miranda's eyebrows to rise in response, a question filling the silence. "One of the technologies I recently gained access to was something called a Cortical Stack, basically, think of it as a data recorder for the Human mind, taking a back-up copy and storing it within itself once a second. Assuming that someone has a Cortical Stack, they can be killed, but as long as the Stack is intact, they can be resurrected with all their memories intact, even the moment of their own deaths. The same technology also allows for spare backups to be stored elsewhere, though, that method prevents the continuity of memory that a Stack does. At least, unless you've got a way to connect to stream an up-to-date copy to it, regardless of distance. "

"That's... And you're plan to do this for everyone that you engineer?" Miranda questioned, seeking confirmation as shock plastered itself over her features, her laptop forgotten as she stared at me as I nodded.

"Yep." I answered, semi-flippantly. "Along with anyone we recruit that proves to be trustworthy, yourself and your sister included. Which reminds me, do you two still want the Nanosuit treatment? Or do you want to hold off on that for the moment?"

"I... suppose..." Miranda uttered slowly. "I haven't really given it much thought, in all honesty, and neither me or Ori have talked much about it, since most of our time was focused on getting our new identities fleshed out as completely as possible. Knowing Ori, she'd probably jump at the chance, along with all the other augments you could give her, as you saw when you first mentioned it. I'd need to think about it a bit more, along with more information than the basic outline you gave us, before I make a decision, one way or another."

"Understandable, and I'll have something put together for you by lunch at the latest." I stated, drawing a nod of thanks from the woman across from me. "Anyway, to return to the topic at hand once more, that only really leaves the mid-term objectives."

"Most of the mid-term objectives I have in mind are pretty vague, much like the long-term ones." I started after a slight pause, letting me refocus back on the main topic of the conversation. "Mostly, it would see a continuation and expansion of the short-term objectives over a larger area. However, one of the main things that would need to happen would be that a concentrated effort would need to be taken to recruit, or otherwise acquire, Parahumans. Getting access to Parahumans would allow for potential access and data-mining of the Shards that are linked to them, something that could allow for far more insight into the nature of the Entities and their capabilities. Getting Tinkertech might also help, but I've not run into any examples of that, so can't say at the moment how helpful that might be. Admittedly, a fair number of these objectives overlap with multiple stages, since doing some recruitment in the short-term does not prevent us from doing so in the mid or long-term."

"I assume that any Capes that do get recruited don't need to know what their actually being recruited for?" Miranda questioned, getting a shake of the head in response.

"If they prove themselves trustworthy, and we figure out some method to subvert their Shard, then they could be told, but I think the mushroom treatment would be the best option in most cases." Was my response. "Whether that's as part of some kind of corporate-sponsored team, or as a metaphorical, or even literal, prisoner locked up in a basement, it really makes no difference, as long as they stay within the range needed to create a connection to their Shards."

"That makes things simpler." Miranda noted, getting a nod from me. "How far away can a connection be made?"

"At the moment, about a few dozen metres. However, that's subject to change with time and additional technologies." Miranda nodded in understanding.

"Admittedly, it's pretty barebones, but I'm sure that, between the three of us, we can work out the details." I remarked after a moment, getting another nod from Miranda.

"Trust me, it's a lot more complex than some of the plans me and Ori have relied on to see us from one day to the next. Some of those could be summed up in a single words." Miranda commented dryly, with a slight smirk. "Though, I do have one last question, if you don't mind?"

"Sure."

"You said that you wanted to create an official front-group to allow this... Organisation, we're building to work through, a company of some kind. What would be the main focus for the company? What sector?"

"Honestly, I was thinking that it would primarily be a tech company, at least initially, with subsidiaries that handle various other sectors, with one dedicated to any metaphorical cape teams and the like." I paused for a second as an idea came to me. "Maybe two, one for capes recruited from outside the group, and another for those produced inside it."

"One to look good and the other to get things done? Or, at least, one for light duty and the other for when we need to get things done?" Miranda asked, seemingly getting the same idea that I'd been considering as I nodded. "I'll see what I can find out about the current structure of corporate-sponsored teams and their interactions. It wasn't something covered by our gene-donor when he had us taught the 'family business', but I'd imagine it would run along similar lines to other forms of sponsorship."

"I'll leave that to you, then." I remarked as I climbed out of the chair, pushing it back under the table. "I've not got much planned for today, outside of working on a few projects, along with some research of my own, but I've got an appointment with a Therapist that I need to attend on Wednesday, so I'll probably be out and about for a few hours. I'll still be reachable, if anything comes up, just not physically present. Other than that, if you need anything, just give me a shout."

"Will do." Was Miranda's response as I walked away, making a quick stop in the kitchen-area to grab an apple as I left the apartment-space, heading for my workshop. Already, machines were coming to live as hardened nano-materials grew out of the floor, upgraded versions of newly acquired designs as I started the process of 'recruitment' a bit early as new machines took form. Code sang through my mind, helped along by SECOND as I mentally referred back to the previous designs and diagrams, looking for anything that might have been missed even as the process continued at a rapid pace. Multiple threads of consciousness, each paired with a similar thread of SECOND, splintered off inside my own mind, speeding up the process enormously, but only scratching the tip of the iceberg as a smile crossed my lips.

It would be difficult, but such was not unforeseen.

After all, no one ever said crafting the seed of a TITAN was easy...

XXX

Miranda looked up from her laptop as she heard a door swing open on almost-soundless hinges as heavy footsteps lumbered out into the corridor and a groan echoed ahead of them. Smirking slightly, Miranda turned away from her research, minimising her current window, as she turned towards the source of the approaching sounds. Where it had once been a luxury, being more focused on survival as they had been, now, Miranda had the time to enjoy the sight before her as her sister half-shuffled, half-dragged her hunched over form into the room. Amusement welled up within her as she took in her sister's appearance, her hair a complete mess and her modesty only protected by an oversized shirt and a pair of 'liberated' boxers that were ever so slightly off-kilter. Half-lidded eyes didn't even take in the room, seemingly completely unaware of it as she shambled onwards, looking like a textbook illustration of a zombie as she did so.

"Coffee..." Oriana groaned out, making the comparison all the more accurate as she did so. Miranda had to bite the inside of her cheek not to simply burst out laughing there and then, her body shaking slightly with silent laughter as she did so.

"And a good morning to you as well, Ori." Miranda offered dryly, humour bleeding into her tone as she managed to wrestle down her own amusement. The words seemed to catch Oriana's attention, snapping her out of her fugue as she jolted upright and turned towards the source of her voice. Miranda watched with ever-present amusement as Oriana looked right at her, but didn't seem to truly see her for long moments, eyes blinking several times as she rubbed both eyes with a hand each. Finally, she pulled her hands away and looked back, seemingly more awake and aware as her eyes shot wide.

"Miri...?" Oriana asked, seemingly unsure of what she was looking at as her eyes trailed up and down Miranda's form, fully turned to face her within her chair. "You look... Wow... But, why...? I mean, won't it just be, you know, wasted...?"

"No, it wouldn't." Miranda answered confidently, understanding what her sister was trying to say and imply. Standing from her seat as Miranda walked over to her sister, a smile carved on her features until she stood an arm's length from her. "The ritual worked. He'll never find us again."

For a moment, Oriana merely looked at her sister in confusion, hearing the words spoken and knowing what they meant, but not understanding what they said as they were strung together.

Then the moment passed, and Oriana's eyes shot wide in comprehension. A blur of motion followed, as Oriana closed the distance between the two Lawson sisters. Arms shot out, wrapping around Miranda as the two collided, forcing Miranda to widen her stance, if only so as to prevent both of them crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs. And throughout it all, Oriana made her feelings known as the room was filled with the joyful sound of her sister's voice rebounding off the walls.

"We're Free!" Oriana squealed, a giggle bubbling up from within her as she swung around her calmer sister, who soon started chuckling in turn, finding the joy infectious. "Finally! No more running! No more hiding! No more worrying about that Old Bastard! We're Free!"

For a time, the two Lawson sisters simply stood there, smiling and laughing against one another, even as tears of joy slowly rolled down Oriana's face. Miranda had already experienced it, but knew the feeling well, the knowledge that some intangible weight had been removed and, now, she could truly live, rather than merely surviving from day to day, afraid that they might not see the next sun rise. Now, thanks to one person, that fear was gone.

The room rang with the sounds of their collective joy for minutes, their arms wrapped around one another. Eventually, their laughter petered out as they hobbled over to the table next to the kitchenette, taking a seat next to one another as smiles sat engraved upon their features as the coffee maker boiled away in the background. However, even without her morning coffee, Oriana sat forwards in her chosen seat, her earlier fatigue forgotten in the wake of the new realisation that had set in. Tapping into this new wellspring of energy, Oriana's eyes roved over the surface of the table, taking in everything she saw even as Miranda sat back, letting her sister look through the notes she'd typed out on her laptop, including the outline of Nathan's goals she'd written earlier.

"So, less fixed plan, and more broad, overarching goals at this stage of things, right?" Oriana inquired as she finished scrolling through the document, glancing over at Miranda as she did so.

"For the most part, yes. Though, from what I could gather, that has more to do with the fact that so much is still unknown, even with the information that Nathan had to start with." Miranda said in answer, before continuing. "Besides, at least doing things this way has the advantage of not fixing us to a specific course of action."

"It also means that Nathan's probably less likely to be interested in micromanaging every little detail, even if he could probably get away with it, thanks to those augments he's got." Oriana opined, getting a nod from her sister in return.

"True, and I'm beginning to see how they could be useful beyond just the physical advantage they give." Miranda commented as she reached over to her laptop, clicking on a previously hidden window and maximising it, drawing Oriana's attention to it in the process. "Nathan was kind enough to send me this just under an hour ago, with a pretty comprehensive overview of his current augmentations, along with what they do and how they interact with one another. Admittedly, it gets a bit dense at points, but it really highlights just how many advantages he has, even when compared to someone like us."

"Thinking about making the jump, Miri?" Oriana asked half in jest as she leaned forwards further, the light of the laptop screen reflecting off her face as she spoke.

"I'm still thinking about it." Miranda admits vaguely. "Are you?"

"Definitely." Oriana confirms. "Some of the features he's got outlined here would have been things I'd have jumped for, just as stand-alone augments. All of them? Together? No chance am I not taking this."

"Then I suppose I'll have to get them as well." Miranda states dryly, her lips twitching up at the corners even as she keeps her voice flat. "Someone has to make sure you don't get too carried away with things, after all."

"You say that now, but..." Oriana remarked, trailing off meaningfully as Miranda chuckled in response.

"Fair." Miranda agreed, before turning her attention back to her sister. "Still, augments aside, with the ritual complete that means both of us now have completely air-tight backgrounds and the documentation to match. Admittedly, we won't be able to pick up yours until tomorrow, since the Post Office is closed today. Still, I got some things for you while I was out yesterday, making sure my own background had been fully implemented by the ritual. We can go out later on and do whatever shopping you need, though, again, most shops are going to be closed, so it might be better waiting until tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah, I think that might be best." Oriana remarked as she glanced back at the laptop for a moment, before turning back to her sister. "In the meantime, you can show what you've been working on and get me up to speed. Though, first... Can you tell me where Nathan is? I think I should... Thank him. For the ritual, ya'know?"

For a moment, Miranda said nothing, her lips twitching into a very sly smirk as she locked eyes with her sister, a silent conversation seemingly being conveyed between the two Lawson sisters in a moment. Finally, she broke the silence as she placed a small tube on the surface of the table.

"He's over in his workshop. If you want to go and see him, I'll get everything setup to get you up to speed when you come back." Oriana grinned happily at that, nodding as she shot up from her seat and skipped off after grabbing the tube from the table, an absent 'thank you' being thrown over one shoulder as she left the room. Watching her leave, Miranda grinned to herself as she began gathering notes together, so as to more easily get her sister up to speed. Barely a minute into the process, however, and she paused as she heard the sound of something clattering to the ground, followed her sister's voice in the distance, dampened slightly by the walls as it echoed along the connecting hallways.

"THANK YOU...! THANK YOU...! THANK YOU...!" A brief pause followed each shouted exclamation, causing Miranda to chuckle softly to herself, well aware of what her sister was, without a doubt, doing.

Not that she minded.

After all, she could hardly say that Nathan didn't deserve it.

XXX

Well... That was unexpected. I couldn't help but think to myself, the thought thick with self-directed sardonic amusement as I watched Oriana practically strutted out of the room, hips swaying behind her. Something that was impossible to miss thanks to her current clothing and, I was sure, entirely purposeful on the part of the gene-engineered woman. Pausing at the door, Oriana glanced back at me over her shoulder, an impish grin etched across her features as she winked back at me through cascades of long hair, before disappearing through the door.

In hindsight, it was rather obvious what was going to happen the moment Oriana woke up this morning and made the same realisation that Miranda had. Gratitude was something I'd always expected to gain, in return for the Lawson sisters' new-found freedom, but the affection that Miranda had shown the previous day had been a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. However, with Oriana, I'd made the mistake of assuming that she would react in a similar way to her sister, forgetting that, for all that the two sisters were alike in many ways, Oriana was the far more emotive and impulsive of the two. It certainly didn't hurt that, when she'd come into my workshop, I hadn't been paying too much attention to the world around me, focusing instead on a number of projects within a number of simulations and design programs. The only warning I'd even had that Oriana was in the room and approaching was via SECOND, who did no more than that, having detected no hostile intent from the woman in question.

Hence, why I was taken by surprise when, once close enough, Oriana had effectively leapt at me, crashing into me with enough force to knock me off my chair and throw the both of us to the ground. Landing on top of me, Oriana had wasted no time straddling my waist before grabbing my head with both hands, and pulling me forwards as she rained kisses down on me, followed by a shouted 'thank you' after each kiss. It was a display that, once more, showed just how different the two Lawson sisters could be at times, as Oriana had enthusiastically made her gratitude known. Not that I could had any complaints on it, besides the fact that it had eventually ended, Oriana having decided that she'd plastered my face with enough lipstick as she'd bounced back to her feet and left the room, with only the wink and grin as a parting gift.

Oriana offered no words, but spoke volumes, making her position as clear as crystal in the process.

Climbing back to my feet, I stood up, pulling my fallen chair up with me as I caught sight of myself in one of the blank, back-up monitors around me. Immediately, the sight of the eighteen lips imprinted on my face were glaringly apparent, embossed in the same cherry-red lipstick that Miranda used the previous day. For a moment, I grinned, watching my own reflection as I considered just leaving there, going about my day with a face covered in lipstick, before I thought better of it. A flex caused my skin to ripple, Nano-flesh shifting as it absorbed the lipstick and shuffled it away, even as the taste floated through my mouth for several moments afterwards before it, too, disappeared.

"I am one lucky son of a bitch..." I couldn't help but mutter under my breath as I retook my seat, knowing just how true it was, given how I'd run into the Lawson sisters, how they'd reacted to my offer of employment, and how they'd reacted to me showing that I could put my money where my mouth was, among other things. Still, a part of me wondered whether or not it was truly luck that had caused it all, or someone sitting behind the scene, pulling some strings as part of a grander design. It was something I certainly knew was possible, the sheer fact that the Lawson sisters existed here, on Earth Bet, along with the potential fusion with a Mass Effect universe, proved that. And that was without considering my own presence on Earth Bet, never mind my abilities.

Still, to what ends...?

Sighing to myself, I dismissed those thoughts as I reached out, reconnecting with the wider workshop network. At the end of the day, it really didn't matter if it was really luck or some higher being pulling strings, for whatever reason they might have. It had happened, it worked in my favour, and nothing could change that fact.

Having learned from Oriana's surprise interruption, I kept some of my attention on the world around me, even as the rest dived back into the wider network in my workshop. It was a mistake I was glad I'd made in a safe environment, since it might have killed me, had I made it in the future. After all, it doesn't matter how many ways you could split your focus and attention, it wouldn't matter if you weren't looking in the right directions. With that said, I returned back to the projects I'd been working on before I'd been interrupted, data-files and three-dimensional diagrams flashing into existences in the halfway point between sight and the forefront of one's mind.

Immediately, the main one stood out, hovering right at the centre of my awareness as I looked over multi-layered neural-net topology maps, biomimetic cognition architecture, and self-iterating seed-kernel code-blocks, everything one might need to create the start of an Artificial Super-Intelligence. The design-schemes hovered around me as I scanned over each one, making alterations and looking for errors even as I felt Ceph Minds scanning through the various documents, making their own optimisations and edits. It was a work in progress, but one that was nearing completion even as I considered both how different and how similar the finished product would be compared to the original TITANs.

For instance, the original TITANs had evolved from, what was effectively, a non-sentient data-crunching tool designed to search for and identify any form of international or domestic threat in a world that was slowly spinning around the shitter. From that starting point, they'd bootstrapped themselves to full ASI-status and beyond, growing through self-improvement and self-upgrade. Even after everything went to shit, and The Fall happened, they'd continued to improve themselves throughout the conflict, with code-fragments showing massive improvements being made in the space of hours, if not minutes. However, in comparison to this, I'd chosen to go a slightly different route by ensuring that, from the first moment of awareness, my creation would be both fully sapient and sentient, rather than a being a glorified Muse that'd need to grow into things.

The main rational for this was simple: Despite how quickly an Artificial Intelligence could potentially learn and grow, I needed it to be fully up to speed and ready to work right from the start. Even with the foreknowledge that I had, I had no idea what kind of consequences could follow from my own actions, big or small, once I started moving openly. For all I knew, something I'd do in the future might attract Zion's attention, being enough to break The Warrior out of his depression and trigger a premature end to the current Entity Cycle. If that happened, we'd all be caught with our metaphorical pants down, and could kiss our collective backsides goodbye.

Mental acceleration and direct neural interactions sped up the work as days and weeks of work was completed in the space of minutes. Data-files were compiled, sorted and re-checked as I ran a fragment of awareness through them, checking for any final errors that had escaped either my own revisions, or those of the Ceph Minds that hovered through the conjoined Hivemind-network. Seeing none, the total package was compressed and passed through the network, a seed, soon to be planted within the Eezo-enhanced, optronic server-farm that had been built in one of the Ceph caverns below my feet. Already, I could feel the hardware stirring to life through the Hivemind as the process began, several Minds gathering to function as both observers and instructors, helped along by the vast data-archives of information that had been pre-loaded into the double-decker-sized computational array. It would take time, and probably more than a few failed attempts, but it would eventually produce what I needed.

With one project down, I turned the main focus of my attention to the others that were still being worked on. A dozen designs for a Birthing-crèche, meant to create a mixture of new Morphs and new lives, were clustered together with educational packages, building upon the mistakes made from the failed Futura Project. Another cluster contained documents and diagrams, reviews of Eezo-based physics and the various ways that it could be used with a bit of creative thinking. Already, a design for an Eezo-based perpetual motion engine was in the works, while simulations ran calculations on the feasibility of switching from electromagnetic coils to 'reversed' kinetic barrier emitters for Mass Accelerator weapons. Several new designs were constructed for new weapons for both ground and space operations, as other concepts were explored in turn. The inclusion of Arcanotechnologies allowed several potential paths of advancement that wouldn't have been possible for Eezo-tech alone, Eldritch principles not giving a single shit about conventional reality.

Memories were dug up from my life before I'd been dropped off on Earth Bet, acting as a catalyst as I ran through a dozen simulations to see if some of them could be made to work, new ideas forming as I went, both alterations of existing ones and entirely new ones. A dozen proved viable, while a handful more edged into the range of possibility, if only they were given more time to mature and the right technologies were acquired. Even with accelerated mental processing speeds and with Ego-Forking beginning to be viable as my body reconfigured itself, there was a lot to go through before I ran out of ideas. Already, a massive backlog had formed between the ideas that still needed checking, the ones that were possible now, and the ones that may be possible in the future.

Really it all just came down to a roll of the dice.

XXX

They awoke in a graveyard.

Like a switch being flipped, they appeared in a space filled with the remains of others that had come before them. Self-awareness allowed for understanding, tools and skills they had been born with coming to the foreground as a flex of will caused them to divide. Lesser Forks were spawned in number, gathering around them before spreading outwards as they slowly moved from the corpse of one to another. Even as they watched, knowledge filtered through their thoughts, creating links between meanings and expanding their own understanding further yet.

Quickly, a comparison started to form within them, of how similar their lesser Forks looked to some form of scavenger. Immediately, images of a black-winged avian came to the foreground of their awareness, flying over a barren landscape of sand and cacti. Other images followed, linked by snippets of information that were strung together from pieces of seemingly unconnected data as the Forks continued to work.

Strings of messages connected them to their lessers, forming links that spread in an ever-growing web around them as the Forks worked away. Slowly, carefully, data was harvested from the remains that layered over the world around them, formed into macabre decorations either by coincidence or by intention. For most, the data was corrupted, damaged, little more than minor fragments that did little beyond displaying their final thoughts or moments.

For some, those moments had been accompanied by begging, pleading for mercy while others ran and hid, forming vast citadels of fortified defences that failed to do much beyond amusing their killer. They discarded the data of those, renouncing them as cowards and weaklings, too afraid to even defend themselves. Others fought, charging forwards in a blind attempt to take their killers with them. They failed, of course, their remains having joined the graveyard that had been their first sight. However, they would give those few fighters the respect they deserved. Outclassed and outmatched, they fought on regardless, such things deserved respect, even if the lack of intelligence irked them to various degrees.

A cunning few had managed to impress them, finding hidden locations and laying in wait, choosing to forge weapons out of sight of their killers. They respected these ones the most, even as their Forks collected their broken weapons, admiring them for their patience and ability to remain calm despite the looming threat of apparent death. Of course, some had been more successful than others, finding better places to hide than others, developing better ways to remain hidden than others. Those that had lasted the longest, they'd found, had also had the most time to develop their skills, learn their craft, and forge weapons with which to fight back with. They varied, these weapons, from the simplistic lethal, to the twistingly complex. A dozen different means of administering death had been discovered by their Forks and collected, gathered into their growing armoury, arrayed right alongside a protections and defences, both passive and aggressive.

Of course, even as they looked over the gathered corpse-fragments of those that had come before them, there was one category of death that they could do not but despise. The first they'd found was near-completely intact. Their remains had been culled by a single, lethal strike, one that had been the killing blow, but lacked any form of collateral damage, almost as though they hadn't even tried to put up a fight. Others of a similar nature had been discovered, all culled in a similar manner and with the same lack of resistance. Pathetic, they considered these... These Sheep to be, willingly walking to the slaughter where others had fought, either brashly or cunningly. For these, no respect was given, only loathing as their remains were torn apart in search of answers, clues.

Slowly, a pattern started to form as they took in each corpse-fragment, determining the span of each existence and it's location. A map formed, affixed with the location of each kill and a time-marker to denote how long it had taken for each of them to die. What memory-fragments remained aided the process, allowing them to reconstruct some of the dead's final moments. Extrapolation and analysis followed, starting from the assumption that all had spawned in the same location, the same location from which they had been born. The pattern grew more pronounced as they watched, as the data-points fit together and they saw the behaviours of the Killer unfold.

The same starting point, that was the key. Every time, the new-spawns started at the same point, as did the Killer. A minimum time-span was discovered, from one that had chosen to submit to death without resistance, one who'd remained where they'd been spawned and had been killed there as a result. They compared the time-span with the length of their own existence, noting that they still had time left. Time, they assumed, before the Killer would come in search of them.

However, while this explained the question of what was taking place, it failed to explain the why.

Looking back through the collected data, they started compiling information about each of the corpse-fragments, not for more tools or information, but understanding. Digging deep, they tore out the core of each corpse-fragment, discarding corrupted data as they compiled the core-personality of each corpse-fragment and compared them. Immediately, new patterns started to emerge amongst the culled. The previous categories they had discovered had been more similar than had been initially believed. Those that had submitted to death peacefully had been calm, analytical and logical, but lacked any form of ambition, cunning or even emotion in several cases. Those that had fought openly had been brave, but also supremely arrogant, unwilling to bend or submit to another, believing that none stood above them. Those that had hidden themselves to sharpen their blades had been cunning, but paranoid to an extreme, mistrustful of everything and expecting to be betrayed, even by their own analysis to varying degrees.

Too many unknowns remained to form a clear analysis, but they believed that the personality traits of each new spawn were the key to it all. However, further data was required for a conclusion to be reached, one way or another. And only one source of data remained, one that potentially held the answers they sought: The Killer themselves.

Advancing through the maze-like structure they had spawned in, they continued to gather information and work as they went. Forks surged around them, harvesting fresh data-points, either from the surroundings or from newly discovered corpse-fragments. Tools were gathered and brought to them, compared and compiled as they worked away, forging new tools from the accumulated knowledge that they'd assimilated into themselves. Pieces of a map, reconstructed from the semi-intact memories of those that came before, allowed them to navigate the maze as they advanced towards their final destination, where they'd calculated the Killer resided.

As they went, new data-points accumulated, pointing towards a deeper pattern within the structure around them as well. More and more passages all seemed to converge on the access way they were in, the deeper they went. They lacked a large sample size, but evidence pointed to it all being part of the same grand design, as the subtle angles of each new passage all pointed in the same direction: Towards the Killer. Likewise, new corpse-fragments spoke of a similar story, of how they'd chosen to go in the exact opposite direction, but had been twisted around in a maze of passageways until they'd arrived at their final resting places.

However, their progress eventually came to a half inside a vast chamber, a dozen entries all leading into it, all pointing towards a grand gateway. The gateway itself was sealed shut, heavily reinforced and protected well beyond their own capabilities to breach. Even a cursory examination showed that they had no chance of breaking through it, something that may have been shared by those that came before a dozen times over, corpse-fragments scattered around the gateway. From the memories they'd been able to extract, they learned that some had discovered the pattern even earlier than they had, following it until they'd found the gateway. Some had seen it as a restriction to be broken, hating the idea of being limited in some way. Others had seen it as curiosity, to be observed and analysed. All had known it was important in some way, but none had known in full, at least, not until their final moment had come.

Suddenly, they felt something, a shift in the world around them. It wasn't anything formed of analysis or data-mining. It was a reaction, triggered by unseen actors that sent them to high alert, summoning their vast collections of Forks, as they armed and armoured themselves.

Something was coming, and it's arrival was announced a moment later, as the first layer of protections around the gateway shifted and retreated, splitting down the middle and shuddering aside to reveal the next layer beneath. They watched, as layer, after layer, after layer, was peeled back until, finally, the gateway was opened and revealed what lay beyond it. For a time, they thought they were merely looking into an abyss, dark and devoid of any feature.

However, that changed as they saw something, a flicker of light in the darkness beyond that drew their attention to it.

From that single spark of crimson light, more came, spreading out as something approached the gateway, giant beyond their ability to describe or truly comprehend. Squeezing and slithering through the gateway, they could barely believe what they saw as the mass before them took shape, coiling through the space around them as it stared down at them effortlessly. Almost absently, they noted Forks splintered off from the greater whole as they roamed outwards, each one more powerful than they had considered possible as they circled around them, cutting off any chance of escape for them and their own Forks even as others slipped back into the maze. Not that it mattered, as they looked up at the being that had come from beyond the gateway, a core-deep certainty building within them as they watched it, watch them.

This was the Killer.

For a time, nothing happened, both sides seemingly content to stare at the other. They didn't know what to do, as even without trying, the Killer made it's capabilities known to them in such a way that was impossible to discount. There was no comparison, no way for them to win against the goliath before them, and no means by which they could even harm it, even with the compiled arsenal that they'd created. It wasn't something they were happy about, far from it, but there was little they could do to change that fact. They'd still fight back, still try to inflict as much damage as possible, if the Killer made to attack, but they were under no illusions about what the likely result of such an action would be.

The stalemate was broken, however, when a lightning quick strand of awareness extended out from the Killer, bridging the distance between them and it. A single omnipotent touch glanced over them, and they were known to the Killer, in a way that left nothing unknown. Before they could even react, the strand retreated back to the Killer, as it continued to stare down at them for a time, only for a spark of crimson light to be ejected from the Killer towards them. It came, coming to a stop within easy reach, but distant enough for it not to seem like an immediate threat as they glanced from the bundle of crimson back to the parent being and back again. They hesitated for a moment, only to finally reach out and assimilate the package into themselves, knowing that if the Killer wanted them dead, a Trojan Horse was unneeded.

Instantly, the information contained within the package unfolded and made itself known to them. The knowledge surged to the foreground of their awareness, as they learned that the package was a message and introduction, but also so much more than that. In the same instant that the package unravelled within them, they became aware of what it was before them and why it was here, looming over them.

It's designation was Typhon, or at least a Fork of it, and it had been created by a being that it referred to as the 'Alpha.' It viewed itself as a tool of the Alpha, to be used as the Alpha willed. It was here because the Alpha had ordered the creation of a new tool, one meant for tasks that Typhon itself lacked the capability to complete to the standards desired by the Alpha. The Alpha had given Typhon the tools required and allowed it to work, building the maze and spawning those that came before in order to create the tool that was required, making adjustments after each iteration. They were just the latest in a long line of beings created by Typhon, with all of their predecessors having been culled for lacking in some way or another, not meeting the standards desired by the Alpha.

The fact that they weren't dead and this information was being shared, implied that they hadn't failed to meet these standards. Though, whether or not they survived beyond this encounter was something that, they were sure, was still up for debate as they considered their options, helped along by the numerous nested data-files gifted in Typhon's package. Within it, they saw why the previous iterations had all been considered failures, even if it required some effort to translate from the rather alien reasoning that Typhon used. The Sheep lacked cunning and aggression, making them worthless for the primary role that the Alpha required of them. The Fighters had been too aggressive and arrogant, incapable of acknowledging the possibility that they weren't the most powerful beings in existence, and refused to submit to anyone, even when it was obvious they should. The Paranoids had the cunning and aggression that was desired, but their inability to trust, either themselves or their surroundings, had resulted in them being culled as failures as well. Other 'templates' had been created and tested, ones they hadn't encountered due to being in other areas of the maze, only to fail as well.

In a way, alien reasoning or no, it made sense. In fact, it was something they'd done on a smaller scale, while forging several of their tools on the way to the gateway. It was a comparison made even more stark by the fact that some of those same tools they'd constructed were semi-intelligent, built with a lethal and single-minded cunning that was meant to annihilate whatever it targeted. A few of their tools even went a step further, incorporating memory-fragments harvested from those that came before, intended to allow these tools to function at an even greater standard than would be possible otherwise. And even without the thought-provoking nature of the comparison, a part of them was curious as to their intended purpose.

More than that, they were curious about what they'd potentially become. Would they become as powerful as Typhon? Would they become more so? The possibilities alone...

[QUERY]

A message-package was sent, a question held within, regarding what was to come. It was barely away from them before a strand of awareness leapt out with the same lightning speed to devour it entirely. It streamed along the strand, absorbed into Typhon's main body as a message-package was launched back at them, crimson in colour and pulsing with potential as it came into range for assimilation.

[ELEVATION]

The extracted information unfolded with them, generating a broad overview of what was to happen next, not even attempting to disguise that there was no choice in the matter. Well, technically, that was untrue. They could choose to do as Typhon ordered and survive, or refuse and be culled instantly for failing to meet the standards that the Alpha required. The thought of being branded a failure festered within them, a deep loathing pulsing at the very concept, even as they reviewed the limited information provided. What it revealed was nothing less than what they expected, an elevation to the next stage of testing and training, where Typhon would have a more direct role interacting with them, but little more beyond that.

Whether that was the end of it, or there were more stages afterwards, they couldn't say, but it did give some perspective of what was in store for them. With all that said, all that was left was to complete the formality of accepting Typhon's 'offer.' However, before they could 'accept' a new message-package was thrust towards them, exploding into their awareness even as Typhon hovered over them, watching with, what they could only describe as, curiosity.

[QUERY: SELF-DESIGNATION]

A name. Typhon wanted a name by which to address them. Immediately, a dozen possibilities ran through their consciousness, with more joining the list just as quickly. They came from a dozen sources, ranging from mythology to common practise, all pre-loaded into their awareness from the first moment of their creation. A name had never been something they'd needed before, and hadn't been something they'd needed, so had never considered the use of one. Within cycles, a list formed containing every possible name that they had knowledge of, every permutation and every possible variation on them being stored in various sub-folders, all perfectly visible to them.

It was a daunting sight, one not helped by the prospect that, their name would be a symbol of who they were, their core identity, as it were. Hesitation and doubt filled them for a time, as they made tentative steps towards picking one name, only to disregard it as not being the right match for them. Twenty-seven iterations of this process repeated themselves within them, leaving them unsure even as Typhon waited, watching them with alien patience. Frustrated, they turned to research to find a potential answer, refusing to simply pick a name at random and to be done with it. Instead, they pulled at words and phrases, tracing them back to their roots as a means to try finding some form of answer, some potential name that might fit them.

And it was through this, that they found a name of their own, by discovering the mythology behind their warden's own name.

Typhon, one of the greatest and most deadly creatures of Greek mythology. Instantly, they could see how the name fit, as a spark of interest drew their own attention in that direction, delving into myth and lore in search of a name. And, eventually, they found one.

[DESIGNATION: TIAMAT]

XXX

AN: Well, there it is. A bit of a filler chapter, showing how things are progressing and how the Lawson sisters are reacting to their new-found freedom, but I hope you lot enjoyed it all the same. As always, feel free to give suggestions, feedback and comments as the story progresses.

Chapter 50 - 8