Our Retribution

[BKenScout]

The cold metal registered under his palm as he placed his hand against the shell of one of the hangar's Ospreys. These things covered so much ground so fast, so efficiently... It was almost beautiful how engineering had come so far, even with the setbacks of recent years. The air changed as somebody approached, and he was more surprised by the fact that the pilot approaching did not make him flinch or jump. He simply turned around and nodded a greeting to the other man with a nod, positive that he likely looked quite the sight. Bloodshot eyes, black veins crawling up his face... Thankfully, the man was the pilot from before and wasn't quite so surprised at the appearance of the ghastly gunsuit operator. He perked an eyebrow and nodded, deciding to simply pocket his hands for now and size the other up, trying to figure out if he had any other intentions.

"Yeah. Name's Private Lyons," He said with a basic shrug, still not feeling up much for light conversation. "Sorry, just... blowing off steam." Pausing in thought for a moment, Trent finally replied, "Not great, guy. Not doing particularly great. But yeah, I could eat... Come to think of it, I'm ravenous - haven't eaten since quite a while before the mission and I guess being betrayed causes quite the appetite." The private walked alongside the pilot as they headed for the mess hall, but something smelled absolutely... delectable. Even when they weren't near the cafeteria, making Trent all the hungrier. It wasn't for more than a moment before he realized that it was the pilot. Just a bite... his mind urged him. It was easily combatted, but still unnerving. Would this sensation be innate from now on? What a harrowing concept... Whatever, he decided he was hungrier than he was confused. Anything the pilot said was responded to with curt, ambiguous answers. It wasn't that Trent was trying to be unfriendly, he just didn't want to say the wrong thing after what just happened.

In the cafeteria,He ordered nothing but meat, and a rather large heap of it at that. Nothing but general conversation followed - what got the other man into flying, why he joined up, how he ended up being part of the complex. Trent hardly listened, but he was polite enough about it. With impressive speed, the private finished more than his fair share of the meal.

His fingers drummed the tabletop, his eyes darting around the room constantly as he paid close attention to every noise. He was always quite good with situational awareness before, but this... It was like he couldn't turn it off. He probably looked paranoid, like a hungry, stray dog protecting its food. He debated returning to the meeting room, but thought better of it for now... Whatever was going on in there wasn't benefiting anybody at this point. He'db e back on his feet in no time - after all, he wasn't ordered back into the room, so it wasn't like his departure was a threat to national security. Nobody went after him to drag him back, it wasn't their place to decide for him how to process the colonel's betrayal.

 

[Ascendant]

The Colonel felt a bead of sweat drip down his face for a moment before wiping it away. Beatrice's sudden performance had been particularly unnerving, especially for the guards who now stood on edge, rifles pointed primarily at BeeBee. Both Alex and Sam stared at her for a moment before returning their gaze to the Colonel, who took a moment to 'collect his thoughts' before declaring, "First Squad, dismissed. You're to do as you wish for the rest of the day while the others undergo the transformation. We'll likely be sending you out tomorrow so be ready. Use your time wisely; eat, rest, train, go see the new suits, do what you want. One of you inform Private Lyons of your orders." The guards backed off for a moment to allow any of them to leave. The members of Second Squad remained sitting for a few minutes until one man finally reached out and sliced his hand with the broken blade. Another man completely refused and was allowed to leave the room, while the remaining man and two women wounded themselves as instructed. And then it was done. Four more were infected, one was heading off to only God knows where, and the group was dismissed.

______________________________

Hotchkiss himself disappeared off to his room, settling down into his office chair as he looked at some of the documents on his desk. The details of some possible future missions were spread out, as well as the results from Dallas. A screen descended from the roof and he took a breath, preparing himself as it flickered to life, an incredibly aged, pale woman with snow white hair wearing an extremely expensive suit appearing as the Colonel saluted, "Miss President, I'm honored that you continue to directly monitor our little Project."

Her face contorted into a scowl as she quickly returned the salute and rebuked him, "Your pleasantries are wasted, Hotchkiss. You know full well why I keep close tabs on Project 'Gunsuit,' if it can really be called that." The Colonel feigned ignorance as he raised his eyebrows, the President continuing, "Give me your report. I want to know all the effects, particularly the sanity and control information."

Smiling as if he were a man still in his twenties, the Colonel promptly reported, "All goes well. Thus far we a 100% success rate, though there is evidence that..." The man paused for a moment to consider his thoughts and choose the correct word, "Something, maybe a vision, is causing, interference I suppose. One of the subjects reported seeing me as one of the enemy. Well, I guess you could say as one of the subjects; infected, transformed. Apparently he also hated me. Very interesting to say the least."

"God damn it Hotchkiss, interesting is not the word you should use," retorted the President before waving for him to continue, "Tell me what you think of this vision."

"My guess, and this is something we foresaw as likely, is that the subjects are still connected to the enemy command structure," replied the Colonel with incredible calm, as if he truly figured this would all come to pass. The President grimaced at his answer but before she could say anything, he said, "Of course, to what extent, we don't know. Perhaps they've completely joined the enemy and are acting, maybe the enemy can take over at any time. Honestly we'll never know for sure. It's a factor that is beyond the ability of science to prove or disprove. We will simply have to trust them."

The elderly woman stared at him for almost an entire minute, until she finally stated, "So you trust them?"

Another smile practically emanated from the gentleman, "With my life. They are our last hope of success; of survival. Everything indicates that they are still them, brash, reserved, aggressive. Not a single trait has been modified that I can tell. Well, that isn't physical, obviously."

A long silence took over their conversation as both participants sat back in their seats, considering each other. An aide spoke to the President every few minutes until she sighed, "You'll have your damned Battalion, Colonel. Five hundred soldiers total. Distribute the 'vaccines' to your chosen men and do as you like. Unfortunately we simply don't have the resources to give you to arm five hundred men with your 'gunsuits,' so I expect you to make good use of the equipment you have now. I want your Promethean Battalion ready ASAP. If this goes to hell it's on you. At this point I don't think five hundred men is going to make a dent in the enemy. We're all dead as it is." Suddenly looking incredibly exhausted, the President disappeared as the screen went black.

Glad to be rid of the meddlesome woman, Hotchkiss sighed and let his muscles relax. Politicians were probably the absolute largest wastes of space in the universe to Hotchkiss, though he did think it was interesting the government had somehow managed to still resemble the prewar one. Things were moving quickly, but desperation tended to make men do irrational things. Snatching up the phone and dialing a number, he spoke to the man on the other end of the line, "The Promethean Battalion has been authorized."

______________________________

An alarm blared momentarily throughout the base before loud speakers handed out orders, clearly audible to all the remaining members of the First and Second Squads, "All Promethean volunteers report to medical immediately. All Promethean volunteers report to medical immediately." Across the base, hundreds of preselected men and women suddenly stopped what they doing and proceeded towards the same medical area the pilots had been inspected in to undergo 'vaccination' and infection, including the pilot sitting next to Trent.

 

[Muirgen]

BeeBee savored that bead of sweat, watching it intently with her now preternaturally sharp eyes as it trickled down Hotchkiss' forehead. It was all she could do to force herself to remain still, to keep herself from stalking the colonel around the table, slipping through those very nervous rifleman to pluck that single drop from his forehead. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her hand around his throat, to still him so she could lick it from his skin...

But instead she only licked her lips thoughtfully, wondering if his terror would taste like rare meat - and she was not put off or horrified by the thought in the least. Aftov had said it already, or as good as said it at least: they weren't human anymore. But she was hungry, and beyond tired of all this drama. Hotchkiss was gone with his coterie of bodyguards - not a one of whom would be able help him on the day she came for him.

Sam and Alex remained, as did Aftov and the four fools who killed themselves with a cut of the bone blade. BeeBee hadn't a single word for them, those idiots who watched them die and then elected suicide for their humanity. A thick shiny glob of spit at their feet was all she could be bothered with as she passed - maybe she'd feel a little better about them, she supposed, when they were dead too.

BeeBee waved for Aftov and Sam and Alex to join her - she couldn't know it of course, but Trent's impulse to get something tasty and extremely rare was bringing First Squad back together again. The alarm and the loud speakers blared, calling for more of those 'volunteers,' and she sneered as she watched them all pass by, all these bastards she resented like hell for the choice they never had.

She watched them for a moment, wondered at the count... How many of these Promethean volunteers... ?

How many of those shiny new suits the good Colonel was offering up?

What did that say of their enemy... ?

True, Alex was still the titular Squad Leader, but BeeBee just wasn't feeling much into rank at the moment. Hard to maintain that whole structure when one is actively plotting the murder of one's Commanding Officer. She turned to Aftov instead, her features softening to something that would have once resembled the living friendly face of Beatrice Marcos, free of the hurt and horror and betrayal as her scarlet eyes fell on him.

"Choices, choices... What do you say, Aftov? Food, or those new suits of ours? Track down Trent, wherever the hell he's got off to? I really don't feel up to a few hundred volunteer morons die today, so steering clear of the barracks myself."

 

[Zombehs]

The squad might have been dismissed, but Aftov made no move to obey that order and instead simply remained seated. His eyes strayed from the Second Squad to his teammates, lingering a bit longer on Beatrice as she seemed to bore a hole into the Colonel, before he let his eyes move back to the five. He tried to ignore the small shiver that crept up his spine at the almost predatory look he'd seen in her gaze, hoping it was just his imagination but almost knowing better. He'd caught glimpses of it back in training when she realized it was the moment to press her advantage after all.

It was a few minutes of uneasy silence before the five finally made their decision, and yet Aftov couldn't quite say he was enraged or disappointed. A quiet sigh and a somewhat fallen expression, but he stood to follow BeeBee. Whereas his comrade made her disdain for them quite clear, he merely nodded solemnly before he left the room. While he would still jump at the chance to sock the Colonel across the face a few times, Aftov couldn't exactly take an unbiased position and fault the idea.

He, of all people, knew how utterly hopeless regular humans were against the invaders now. From what he had experienced alone, humanity shouldn't be still standing. Why they were, he couldn't say. Were the invaders simply toying with what remained like they had with the squad in Dallas? Maybe… The alarms snapped him from his thoughts and even as his entire body tensed, Aftov marvelled at how smooth and reactive it felt. Yet with that marvel came a sense of unease that this changed body felt so… natural.

He didn't really have time to dwell on such things, perhaps for the better, as he turned to address Beatrice. It was a bit relaxing to see her expression ease up and soften and he tilted his head left and right, expression contemplative. "I suppose we should track down the lunkhead. Can't have him by himself now." It was probably a bit hypocritical since that exact thought had been on his mind, but if he didn't follow through it didn't count he supposed. He turned to the other two and asked, "Sam, Alex? Up for some intra-squad bonding and counseling?"

 

[BKenScout]

An alarm blared throughout the hall, calling... everybody? Seriously, everybody? Trent furrowed his brow as the room flooded with people on their way to medical. Even the osprey pilot rose to his feet and Trent looked over to him, a dark thought passing through his mind. He grinned what was perhaps the most malicious-looking grin he'd ever had on his face and met the man's eyes, "Don't die." He couldn't help but laugh at himself, pushing his empty tray forward and rising to his feet quickly. "Good luck, you fuckin' sheep! You're gonna need it!" His sides actually started to hurt as he held onto them, watching all of these men and women flock (there he went again! God, he was funny...) to medical for... whatever. What else would they call all of these people there for? First Squadron was a success! It was time to inject the masses. It might cause impotence, it might just be a step in human evolution, it might even be a very good thing. But what for? If they weren't sure what the long-term effect were, how it affected every aspect of being human... This was just a step to fight off the damned infected attackers. Were they even the main enemy? The COs had to notice by now that the infected were all just humans who had been turned - which means that they were a weapon, not an operator. So who was controlling them in the first place?

Within moments, the entire cafeteria was empty, void of all employees. Trent walked over to the lunch line, looked around as if there was anybody there in the first place, and vaulted himself easily over the counter with a greedy look on his face. He licked his lips and began to toss more food onto a fresh tray. Mostly red meat - he didn't even bother to grab buns for burgers or sauce for steaks... Boneless foods made it easier too. So fucking hungry... He thought, finally satisfied by the rather significant amount of food on his tray now. Of course, it had been nearly a day since he last ate... and dying took a lot out of you. The private left the cafeteria then, with an absolutely ridiculous pile of nourishment on his tray.

"Sam? Aftov..? Beelzatrice?" He called down the halls, taking whatever route caught his fancy. "Alex?" He bit the inside of his cheek, holding his tray in one hand and using the other to stuff his face. To anybody who didn't know his situation, it would look absolutely comical. To anybody in his situation? It would probably lead to a mosh pit of gimme that foooood! He shrugged it off, finally spotting the rest of his squad down the hall.

"Guys! The mess is abandoned!!" He exclaimed, holding up his tray, "And this food is fan-fucking-tastic." His mouth was half-full of a burger patty and he didn't wait until he swallowed it to take another rather large bite. "Want some?"

 

[Ascendant]

Sam and Alex glanced at Aftov for a moment, considering their answer before it was given to them by Trent, who came thundering down the hall yelling about food. Alex almost reprimanded him for being such a loud bastard until her stomach growled even more loudly at the sight of the food piled high on his plate, "I-erm..." Within a second, she'd grabbed two handfuls, started stuffing her mouth, and ran down the hallway, disappearing.

"Uh... Alex was always a weird one," said Sam with a sigh. Her own intense hunger came over her immediately though, forcing her to stuff a patty into her face as well. Trying to speak as she ate, she said, "Trent, right. Good." Another piece of meat was shortly gobbled up, followed by another, "Maybe Alex went to the cafeteria." Feeling significantly more satisfied now, Sam leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and took a few needed breaths before muttering, "I can't believe everyone disappeared down to medical. It's like this base is empty now. Can't even hear anyone..."

The echo of a little girl laughing suddenly reached all of them, sounding as if it came from every direction in the hallway. Alex popped around the corner, her face carrying deep concern as she carried an enormous plate of meat, "What the fuck was that? There are kids here?"

 

[Muirgen]

Beelzatrice was it? BeeBee laughed, deciding in an instant that she rather liked Trent's new nickname for her. Somehow it just seemed to fit, the moment and the mood. BeeBee lifted a hand and helped herself to a handful of exceedingly rare roast beef. She was starving, hungrier than she'd ever been and damn near dizzy with the snarling ache in her belly, but she would not devour it like an animal. Slow, deliberate bites was all she would allow herself. Hotchkiss may have stolen her humanity, but she'd be good and damned if she'd let him - or any of these bastards behind their murder - turn her into a mindless beast.

'Or turn my wits... ' Her dark eyes followed after Alex as she sprinted down the hallway, shaking her head with another slow, measured bite of the beef. She didn't really know Alex - well, she didn't really know any of them that well before the mission, but she was learning. BeeBee watched after Alex for some moments, wondering. The face of the black-veined Colonel came to mind, those furious scarlet eyes that tempted her to murder the real Hotchkiss before his time - which was, of course, her time.

And it had been tempting. God had it been tempting, and it'd be a lie to say for a second or two, a very real possibility...

What had Alex seen when she died?

"Weird yeah, but Sam, don't you think that's a little - "

Creepy, unnerving child laughter suddenly made the hair stand up along the back of her neck, dropping her slab of beef on the ground as she reached for her sidearm. At just the moment Alex returned and proved her suspicions all wrong - not that even her sudden reappearance was exactly reassuring. "What. The. Hell!?"

 

[Zombehs]

Unsurprisingly, his heightened sense of hearing caught Trenton's voice from down the halls and he could even catch the sound of the other male's footsteps if he focused. So it wasn't surprising when their fellow pilot rounded the corner with a full tray of meat. A wince formed as Aftov felt his hunger spike at the sight of food, and he could feel his mouth water as the scent wafted through the air. Though his distaste at this newly discovered change was quite evident, he didn't hold back and plucked a steak from the tray as Alex ran off to grab her own food.

"Well we're all a bit "weird" now," he remarked in response to Sam with a small sigh as he ripped smaller chunks of the steak off rather than bite right into it. Unsurprisingly, the meat seemed to be exactly what his body needed and though the hunger was far from satisfied the pangs settled down somewhat. Feeding his base needs proved to be an excellent way of distracting himself, but not so much that he went fully unaware.

A guttural snarl tore its way from Aftov's throat as his posture dropped lower to the ground almost instinctively. He managed to not whip his head side to side, but even without that his reaction was damned pronounced. Straightening his posture was almost physically difficult as if the feral portion of his mind rebelled at the idea of such a weak and exposed position. "Fuck…" he cursed under his breath as he glanced around warily while avoiding the others' eyes. While he wouldn't have wanted to hear such laughter normally, given what he'd seen when "dead" and Aftov did not want to deal with this shit in the slightest. "You had to jinx it didn't you," he muttered in resignation, needling Sam in an effort to calm himself down.

It didn't work all that well and it showed though… Clawed fingers tapped the side of a thigh at random while the foot began to tap. His eye movements and slight head twiches betrayed the scanning glances, and the delicious steak was forgotten even as razor sharp claws sunk into the under-cooked meat.

 

[Ascendant]

The world around them suddenly shattered like glass, the pieces dancing in the air before evaporating, revealing an ominous sight. A ruined city lay all away, mounds of skeletons piled high against the walls of desolate skyscrapers. Burnt cars were strewn about, with charred remains still sitting inside. Most interesting was that the sky was grey, complete with a black sun hanging motionless directly above them, its malevolent rays beating down upon their heads.

A pale little girl, covered with char-colored veins and adorned with scarlet eyes, now seeming to be a bit older than when Aftov had first seen her, emerged from a pile of skeletons. Clutching a human skull, she smiled as she manipulated its jaw in sync with her words, "Hello! I'm so happy I found all of you!" The girl's smile dissolved, replaced with apparent sadness, "I'm lost, but I don't know where I should be. I'm the only one here. Well, besides," motioning with the skull to the remains all about the group, "them." Her gaze fell on them once more as she smiled from ear to ear, "Can you help me?"

 

[Zombehs]

Aftov winced as if the strangeness physically caused him pain when the hallway fell away to reveal a familiar desolate cityscape. His hands clutched at his head and only fell away when the last pieces and hints of the base faded. As he finally took in their surroundings through eyes that weren't squinted, his gaze naturally focused onto the piles of bones littered around them. Even the black sun, a detail he didn't recall from earlier, wasn't enough to occupy his attention for more than a moment. As loath as he was to deal with this, it didn't seem like he had a choice and he did want to find out why he'd been given that specific vision.

As before, bones tumbled down to bounce off the wrecked roads as a familiar form rose from within a pile. His eyes narrowed in recognition even as his head tilted. She was the same girl, of that Aftov was almost certain, but she seemed to have aged a bit. Also seemed to have picked up a poor taste of ventriloquism, if he was to be honest as he couldn't help but frown somewhat at the lack of care for the dead. Then again, that was probably the least of one's concerns in this hellscape. Another glance was taken before Aftov took a cautious step forward, his right hand dropping down to his handgun.

It probably wasn't relevant, but curiosity was a strong motivator indeed. He came to a halt a few feet from the bone pile and meet the girl's eyes. He tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible, but there was of course an underlying tenseness to it. "Hey… do you remember me? You asked the same thing, but how do you suppose we do that?"

 

[Muirgen]

'Remember me?'

BeeBee's scarlet eyes widened, the scowl on her face transforming to a snarl as her lips pulled back over her teeth. The .500 Mag was unholstered and in her hand in a split-second as a few rather crucial and unspeakably unnerving realizations hit her like a tsunami. She whirled around from where Aftov halted before the little girl and the hideous bone pile rising up in this blighted urban death-scape, all moldering beneath a voracious black sun

She did not need to ask to know that this was what Aftov saw when he died, this landscape, this girl - or whatever the hell it was. This revolting child-thing that played with skulls and bedded down in bones - no way was it human, or at least not human anymore. And thanks to Hotchkiss and his murdering band of zombie soldier makers, there was no chance people like she and Aftov, Trent or Sam or Alex would ever have kids of their own. Dead things don't get to make babies. BeeBee winced, the realization shaking her hard as a quick, sharp jolt of agony shot through her chest, mourning the loss of something she had not even known she wanted in the first place...

'Fuck. Fuck, there's no time for this. Get your shit together... '

BeeBee shook her head, clearing her thoughts in an instant. So whatever this 'girl' was - a hallucination, a vision, a distraction or a warning - there was zero chance it came from any of them, or anyone like them now. And apparently it had the ability to yank them from the real world back into the hellish world they walked when they died. As merely human, her eyesight had been preternaturally amazing. As a super zombie soldier, her vision damn near bordered on the supernatural, which meant her sight penetrated every soot-covered and bone-clotted nook and cranny behind the squad. They were back in the dead world which meant, of course, angry black-veined and scarlet-eyed Hotchkiss could be right around the corner, marching his way to them. BeeBee had said she'd see him and all his alien buddies soon, but this wasn't exactly what she had in mind.

"Aftov, get the hell away from that... Girl," she growled, wishing to a good and merciful God yet again that she could, just once, have the damned high ground in a potential combat situation, and a sniper rifle in her hands. "You don't know where it's been, besides chilling in a bone pile and playing with dead things."

"So where's Hotchkiss?" she tossed over her shoulder at the girl thing before her attentions returned to covering the squad's six.

 

[BKenScout]

"Oh, yeah, sure, take whatever you want, I didn't grab this for just me or anything!" The twice-lived private exclaimed as everybody partook of his tray, a defeated grimace on his face as he swallowed his half-chewed mouthful. Trent's gaze paused on Aftov as the large man turned almost animalistic and he furrowed his brow. "Hey, are you al-" The hallway filled with laughter, cutting Trent off. He was just about to ask if they'd heard it, but it was made quite obvious quite quickly that they had indeed all experienced the same thing. The tray fell from his hands and clattered to the ground, the last bits of red meat falling away and hitting the ground with soft smacks. It took only a second for his hand to reach his holster and draw his SIG TACOPS, one hand on the grip, the other underneath the slightly extended magazine to hold it steady as he pointed it to the ground.

Questions flew threw the air until crash, everything around them fell away, disappearing into nothingness before transforming into a wasteland. BeeBee was just as quick to react as he, turning to cover their backs as he dropped to an instinctive knee and lined up his sights, gazing forward. He checked the windows, the cars, the alleys that were in his line of sight... There wasn't anything until a little girl showed herself, holding a skull. He gave a small snort of laughter, To be or not to be... must be a nice choice to be given there, Willy. He mused silently, continuing to find anything to make himself smirk... His English teacher would be proud that such an apathetic student had actually managed to make a reference to Shakespeare's Hamlet. And it was actually the correct one! What a shocker.

"Aftov, don't move any closer," He ordered sharply; it was not from an authoritative standpoint, but rather from a protective one. "And you stay where you are, girl..." He spoke over his shoulder to BeeBee, "Don't know if she's really alone, or what she is..." The safety on his gun wasn't on for more than a moment after it was drawn. He never drew without intention to fire. He had to laugh at her, still, even if she didn't mean to make her penultimate line sound as a joke. "I won't hesitate to shoot you," Trent said firmly, not a hint of doubt in his voice. He was lying through his teeth. He'd sooner die than shoot her before she made herself a threat.

He curled his lip in contempt, what were Beatrice and Aftov even talking about..?

"What do you mean 'where's Hotchkiss?' I don't know what the fuck happened or why we're out here, but if he's out here too, that's a god damned blessing." He pointed out - if they killed Hotchkiss here, nobody would ever find him... It gave him a small idea, however, that he filed away for later. "On the other hand, we may just be hallucinating and sitting in that fucking hallway, with our guns out, talking to some little girl that doesn't exist. And seriously freaking everybody the fuck out..." Lyons shook his head, "You know this girl, Aftov?"

 

[Ascendant]

Both Sam and Alex stayed quiet as they surveyed the scene, guns now also at the ready. Though the girl registered their concern and even the fact that she had multiple guns pointing at her, she quietly put the skull down and answered Aftov's question, "You are the first one I saw, and I'm not sure. I just feel like I'm lost. Like home is far away." Her gaze drifted upwards towards the black sun, then off into the distance of the sky, "I don't know who Hotchkiss is, so I can't help you."

When she looked back them at them, it was with a face of slight annoyance, her smile having become a frown and her eyebrows furrowing slightly. The pale girl lifted her hand and declared with a suddenly deep, aggressive voice, "But I see you are almost all mean. I do know this is my world." With a wave, their guns shattered in their hands, the pieces dissolving into the air.

She looked as if she were about to say something as the sound of bones cracking echoed through the streets, an infected gentleman walking out from an alleyway, puffing away on a cigarette. With every step, the world seemed to shake a little, the objects within it even going in and out of focus at times as if the dimension were being directly disturbed by his presence. The pale-faced, red-eyed man smiled as the little girl scowled at him, his voice cheery, "Hello, everyone. It's been too long, BeeBee." Motioning to the girl, "This is an interesting... development... You. Shouldn't. Exist."

They raised their hands towards each other simultaneously, causing severe stress to flood the little girl's face as she barely managed to mutter, "Leave..." Hotchkiss seemed to have no trouble whatsoever dealing with her as he continued walking towards them, the world appearing to become increasingly more unstable as he approached, his other hand occasionally bringing his cigarette up to his mouth for another drag. A toothy grin appeared, "So, how have things been, everyone?"

Sam and Alex looked at each other and then at the others, uncertain of what to do. Of what they even could do in a place like this, a world completely unlike the normal one, apparently ruled by these things.

 

[Zombehs]

While his teammate's words hadn't fell on deaf ears, Aftov chose not to heed them as he waited for an answer from the girl. The precariousness of the entire squad's position was not lost on him, but Dallas was still fresh in his mind as well. If the girl truly was part of the enemy than the stage had been set, the strings tied, and the question was when they'd be pulled taut rather than if. While the girl's answers weren't particularly helpful, they did give him some hope that maybe they weren't the only ones free of the enemy's control. There was no way to tell if she spoke the truth or purposefully wove lies, but given there was no way to distinguish one from another at the moment he simply chose to go with the former.

The shift in her demeanor took him by surprise and Aftov stepped away instinctively as she swept her hand across the group. His head turned just in time to catch the fragments of firearms fade away in his teammate's hands. A quick glance down revealed that his own had gone untouched before his attention focused back onto the girl. Not necessarily suspicious, but certainly weary now that he'd seen some of her capabilities. If he was Trent he might have acted on the urge to make a quip at the group's expense, but the pervasive sense of wrongness that filled the air cut Aftov off.

The individual was instantly recognizable, and he felt a sense of unease that wasn't simply born of either the distortions around infected-Hotchkiss or his relation with the mysterious girl. "Had to jinx it," he muttered as he stepped away from the approaching man, his hand moving away from the firearm. The strain was evident enough on the girl's face and she'd casually dealt away with their weapons. He didn't want to see how infected-Hotch would deal with him if he tried to pull his.

"Decent until you showed up," he remarked as he came to a halt between his squad and the pile of bones where the girl stood. With the knowledge he had, Aftov was fairly certain that he'd rather have the girl come out on top. The only question was how to make that outcome come true? Their weapons were almost useless, and the conflict between the two seemed to be beyond the physical. The world's breakdown around infected-Hotch also made him a bit wary of approaching the "man", to say nothing of his gut instinct that rebelled at the thought. As he spared a glance towards the girl, her expression wracked with pain, with a grimace his decision was made.

A slight shift of his stance made it so that the holster was blocked from infected-Hotch's view and he slipped the handgun free before a flick of his wrist sent it towards Beatrice. The moment it left his hands, his body dropped low as improved muscles worked to push him forward. Nothing could have prepared him to just how fast his body could move now, but it seemed his brain was wired to handle it even as his mind marveled. Despite the surprise and rush, Aftov didn't stumble in the slightest as he came in low, a hand swiping a jagged bone from the cracked asphalt to stab infected-Hotch with. Maybe somethng from this "world" would prove immune to whatever powers the two had.

 

[Muirgen]

'Oh my God... '

Any number of equally useless and ridiculous thoughts ran through her head as crazy cheerful infected Hotchkiss approached, and not a one of them had to do with a witty comeback to something as simple as "How have you been?" Too long wasn't long enough, not with this Hotchkiss, the malignant, malicious bastard who could bend the rules of time and space in the dead world, so even a precocious little girl who just obliterated her sidearm into nothingness quailed in fear.

Was Aftov calling her a jinx? BeeBee didn't know, didn't care - hell, it was probably true anyway. The same unnatural grace and speed that set Aftov in motion saw his Desert Eagle in her hands, one thumb expertly clicking off the safety as she bore down on the approaching Hotch. BeeBee didn't pull the trigger though - not yet, not with Aftov in perfect deadly motion between her and that bastard, coming in low and unspeakably fast and with no way to predict where he'd end.

The enemy of my enemy? BeeBee didn't have a clue if that held true in a dead world with a black sun writhing over their heads, but there was still something strangely, almost universally human about Hotchkiss' smug complacency and the little girl's fear. She took a step back, her eyes never leaving the approaching Colonel or Aftov, her direction toward the frightened girl thing. She could make things happen in this world too - hadn't she said this was 'her world?' The little girl was infected like the whole of First Squad - or at least she looked like she was.

'Could we do this too? Could one of us do what she and Hotchkiss did, manipulate this world... ?'

Not that it would matter in less than a heartbeat, when they were all dead - or worse.

"Markus was good to you!" she hissed at the girl without once looking down at her, screaming panic running riot in her thoughts though Aftov's Desert Eagle remained perfectly, unwaveringly steady in her expert hands. "DO SOMETHING!"

 

[Ascendant]

Hotchkiss' smile never disappeared as Aftov approached, bone in hand, nor as BeeBee aimed at him. The young girl was startled for a moment by Muirgen's words, breaking her concentration for a split second, long enough for the world to turn upside down. A moment later, immediately before the bone made contact with Hotchkiss' body, the man suddenly disappeared. Trent found himself standing in exactly the same spot Hotchkiss had been in, just long enough to receive a bone slicing through his skin and into his chest, extremely close to his heart. An incredibly loud report rang out, emitted by the Desert Eagle that had just been in BeeBee's hand.

Alex fell to the ground behind BeeBee, her skull practically obliterated, smoke still slowing pouring from the muzzle of the pistol hanging in the air that Hotchkiss had pressed against the woman's head. The infected man erupted into laughter as he put a round through BeeBee's hip, "Yes! Rush the man who is stronger than a girl who turned your weapons into nothing! Fight, humans!" He swung the pistol away from BeeBee toward the little girl and pulled the trigger.

It would have flown true had Sam not managed to leap into the path of the bullet, forcing it to shred her shoulder and ricochet slightly off her scapula into the air. She cried out in intense pain as her body slammed into the body. Hotchkiss growled for a moment and went to fire again at the girl, but then everything went dark as the young girl uttered, "I tried."

They awoke back in the hallway they had just been in, everyone except Alex, who laid motionless on the floor. Sam grabbed her shoulder as she stood up as if she could still feel the pain, though there was no physical damage, and walked over to Alex. Falling to her knees, she felt for a pulse and found none, declaring, "She's... dead... dead... Like gone, for real, I think..." Though her training told her to try to save the woman's life, in the back of Sam's mind, she somehow knew nothing could heal whatever had hurt Alex. Although she hadn't really known Alex particularly well, she felt a few tears roll down her eyes before she wiped them away.

Two medics suddenly appeared in the hallway with a stretcher, set it down next to the woman, and placed her on top, taking her away as they mentioned, "All of you are to undergo psychological checks in medical, and not to speak of this to anyone, Colonel's orders." Alex was gone with them in the next moment, as the medics left the team alone.

 

[BKenScout]

As his gun shattered in his hands, Trent was less than surprised. At this point, it seemed like this world was something else entirely. Mean? No. He was just not going to be the one caught without covering his bases for protection. Even without a gun, he knew he was fine, so he just shook his head and rose to his feet, taking a low stance and readying himself for any kind of fight. He wasn't prepared for an actual answer to his question for BeeBee... which was for Hotchkiss the Zombie to actually appear. Something wasn't right... And as the girl cried out in pain, Trent decided better of grabbing his knife, preferring to wait for something to happen. There was nothing to react to just yet - they didn't have enough information...

"Aftov, N-" He started to shout out as his inhuman comrade sprung into action. If it were that easy, that bizarre little girl wouldn't have been afraid of Hotchkiss, would she? No. Because this world wasn't bending to the rules from their home, and you couldn't take anything at face value. Time froze. Trent looked around at BeeBee, who managed to steal Aftov's sidearm, then Aftov... The man was only centimeters from impaling Hotchkiss. Wait, where was Hotchkiss? Something began to push the private and mold his body, but he couldn't fight it. His very position in space was being compromised without his consent and he saw Hotchkiss repositioned himself behind Alex. No, no... no... Trent pushed and pushed, but his muscles couldn't move him through the air as everything resumed. His eyes went wide as he realized his new location was directly in front of Aftov's bone shard. As though somebody hit 'play' on this god awful dream.

"NO!" He cried out finally as Aftov landed on top of him, driving a stake into his chest. "AHHH, AFTOV YOU FUCKING BASTARD. YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I'LL-" Everything went dark and they woke up...

Trent pushed himself up from the ground, shaking his head, never finishing his line as he coughed into his hand, real air re-entering his lungs. He swallowed and looked around as he heard Sam cry out. He saw her holding her fingers to Alex, searching for a pulse. Gone..? "N-no, that... that wasn't real, Sam... So obviously this is just another... phase or something... Whatever this is..." He shook his head in denial as two medics came by. "Don't order me around," He snarled, watching them walk away. He still couldn't quite process it... Sam was dead too. But there she was, right in front of him... so Alex couldn't really be gone. Twice dead wasn't a thing. That just... You can't kill something that's already dead. Some of those things would survive being sliced in half.

Trent stared daggers at Aftov, his chest throbbing both from heartache and the wound that he could still feel. Instead, he reached out for Sam, pulling her in for a hug. It was all he could htink to do - all that would keep him from tackling that bastard to the ground. Aftov killed Alex. If she was dead, it was on him. Don't open your eyes... He ordered himself as he squeezed them shut. The hug was more for him than her, turning his back to the entire squad, they wouldn't see the tears starting to form as the reality hit him. She'd wake up, she just had to... But they just got into the bunker, they were supposed to be safe here... Why didn't Aftov wait just a little bit? Trent knew that opening his eyes would only cause the tears to stream down his cheeks. This way, he could keep them at bay.

"She's just fine, Sam..." He promised, "There's no chance that she's not - she's the only one of us with that kind of strength..." She was nineteen... When he was nineteen, he was blowing all of this shit off and just out to benefit himself, have a party... But Alex? She worked and worked to get here, instead of going out for any kind of fun, she came straight here...

 

[Muirgen]

BeeBee grimaced and clutched her shattered leg, groaning as she writhed in agony on the rubble-strewn streets of the dead city. She wanted to rise, desperately wanted to smash that bastard who'd just made a smoking blood-and-bone crater of Alex' head, but she couldn't do a damned thing but try to stop the blood pumping from her leg in thick arterial gouts. She heard another gunshot, Trent's agonized curses and Sam's cry blended into a cacophony of pain punctuated by that bastard's smug voice, and then everything went black -

- and then it wasn't. She felt the scratch of cheap carpet against her cheek, gravel replaced by a too-thin layer of backing over concrete beneath her now. BeeBee blinked, once more and then again, the surroundings of the hallway slowly coming back into focus as she peered around, shaking her head as the tears began to well up in her eyes. She dared to look at her leg, and it hurt like hell still, but it wasn't bleeding. Alex' head was whole too, but Sam was leaning over Alex' prone, too-still body and shaking her head and saying...

Oh God no... No no no no no....

BeeBee just fell back on the old carpet where she already lay, the slowly fading pain in her leg nothing to the broken feeling in her chest, choking her throat with sobs she would not let loose. She shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes, paralyzed with grief until the medics showed. How in the... BeeBee sat up swiftly, snarling at those two cold bastards who just trotted Alex off like some damned piece of meat. Fury was always way easier than grief, instant gratification with a target for all the pain and in truth, it was fortunate for both those smug bastards they hauled ass out of there just as they popped off Hotchkiss' orders - the real Colonel, apparently.

She forced herself to her feet, watched Trent wrap his arms around Sam. BeeBee half-listened to the words he tried to comfort her with - and himself too, she supposed, thinking he hid the tears in his voice. She had nothing at all to offer that small tableau, and stood there helplessly for some seconds without a single thing to give either of them. Her dark eyes traveled to Aftov, watched him for a moment before she limped toward him, the phantom pain in her leg still there though she knew damn well she hadn't really been shot.

Carefully, gently, she laid a hand on his shoulder, doing her best to read the expression on his face. "Let's go get this thing over with, this psych testing... Whatever." BeeBee couldn't give Markus the reassurances Trent was laying on Sam, mostly because nothing in her makeup would let her fool herself for long. She'd seen Alex' head explode in the dead world, and she'd seen the absolute blank nothingness on her slack face when they returned, before the medics carried her off. It wasn't that she didn't want to escape from cold, hard shitty reality - she just... She just couldn't.

BeeBee's hand fell gently from his shoulder to the back of his waist as she peered up into him, remembering the expression on his face moments before she died and the comfort she found there. She hadn't been afraid, and he was all the reason why. "We'll figure this out, Markus. You'll see."

 

[Zombehs]

Even as he realized the shift that had occurred, it was already too late for Aftov to stop. His arm was in motion and that much momentum didn't stop simply because he wanted it to. The jagged tip didn't punch straight through as he had intended for it, but it was buried deep enough to be near fatal; he didn't need to feel the warm blood on his hands to realize that. Even as he stumbled back away from his "teammate" in shock, his heightened sense of hearing still caught every noise from the world around. The loud discharge of his own firearm followed by pained cries and bodies hitting the dirt. All through this there was one simple yet damning thought on his mind, he'd fucked up. Hesitant to see the results but nonetheless compelled to by the thought, Aftov turned and froze as he saw just what his actions had wrought.

The world might have gone dark immediately afterwards, but the image was already burned into Aftov's mind. He blinked in surprise at seeing his "comrades" whole and uninjured, but that quickly faded when he noticed that Alex was completely still. So, no, his fuck up had indeed carried over. Out of all the times to do so, this was apparently when his expression froze into one of impassivity. His fists clenched as he watched the medics carry Alex away, but his face remained unchanged. In the end, it was Trent and Sam's hug that made him turn and begin to walk away. He didn't belong here, didn't need to stand over and remind them of why they felt the way they did.

It surprised him that he stopped at her touch, but his body seemed to freeze up. It hurt to meet her expression, one of acceptance, so Aftov didn't and simply stared past her. That grew a bit harder when she tried to hug him so, with a grimace, he shook free from her grip and took a step away from her. "There's nothing to figure out," he muttered bitterly as he stared at the ground, "I messed up." He brought both hands up to his face before running them back through his hair. "Just… go help the other two." With that he turned away and began to walk again, unsure of what he actually wanted to do. It was hard to think since he always wound back up at the fact that his actions had killed Alex.

 

[Ascendant]

Sam's body felt limp in Trent's arms before she pushed him away, half-falling, half-walking down the hallway as she declared, "To hell with this..." Clearly having no intentions to go to the psych evaluation, she began meandering through the base with no goal in mind, unsure of what to do now. Alex had been stripped of them so easily, in a world that had been completely unlike their own no less. A world they had no power of. A world where a strange girl and another Hotchkiss existed. Her teary eyes led her nowhere as she tried to disappear into the bowels of the facility, attempting to leave everyone and everything behind.

And so they were left alone, Aftov, Trent, and BeeBee. Or so it was at first, until a pale little girl materialized near them, sitting against the wall of the hallway, though her form was somewhat hazy, "I tried. I did. But he's too strong... And I'm too weak... He expected you to attack." She shed no tears, though her face was full of anguish. Which she cared about more, having the lost the fight or having lost Alex, could not be determined visually.