Point of Documentation: Marshall, Phoenix 11
Tethal and Marshall stared at each other for a second that seemed to stretch far past what a second should be allowed to be. The smile on Tethal’s face only grew in size as Marshall’s own turned into a deep scowl. The bipolar showing of emotions between them was broken when Marshall finally spoke. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
This seemed to finally snap Tethal out of his slowly forming smile and caused the blue goblin to burst into a fit of laughter. He managed to squeeze out a reply between the laughter that only made him laugh more. “Nope! You’ve gotta figure things out yourself!”
Marshall’s gaze laid on him with an incredulous look for a moment before turning back towards the hole in reality. The arch still lay above the hole in the floor that, instead of drilling into the ground like you’d expect, cracked reality and bound two places together. No one really understood how the Voidlings did this biologically when it took hundreds of researchers years just to find evidence that the Void was a thing. And ‘a thing’ it was alright. The place was as close to Hell as humanity had ever seen in real life. Bibles, the form of religious media that was one of the most popular religions before The Fall, described the place in little detail. Some dude centuries later wrote a fan-fiction that people still remake to this day that described the place as a cold and terrible place with layers. He described more than just Hell, but that part was only the really important place to reference from what Marshall saw before him.
The Nest-to-be was a hole that seemed to stretch into nothing. The black beyond the edge of the tear was so impalpable that it seemed like his vision had simply stopped working when he looked at it. And yet, the device that now rested on his iris was spitting out all kinds of information about what lay just beyond it. Hundreds of shapes moved at an indescribable distance from the hole, swarming towards it at speeds that were neither fast nor slow, but both at once. They would break the surface soon, and something even stranger lurked beyond. Where there were Demons, there were the more advanced of their race that led them forwards. Marshall couldn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain that whatever lurked beyond was one such monster.
He brought the arch back into focus and concentrated on it. This had to be how this thing works, right? He did this before towards the Voidling and it showed all kinds of interesting details. Almost on cue it brought up a number of boxes around the arch, some of which were so jam-packed with information that a small scroll-bar appeared along the side of them. They just floated there like a sign stapled to the side of the device and held in place by a small connecting line to the place it was referencing. He figured that small details could be drilled down on like this with ease, and lauded the creators of this for ease of use. Truly, if he had to just focus on something and details would appear, he could use this in so many useful places.
“Interrogative: Would you like to see more details on panel 14-2C-26AR3? Focus target is registered and details are provided for reference.”
Marshall’s face flushed red for a moment as he realized he had been caught staring as he was thinking. “Uh… no. No, thank you. I need you to… Actually, I never got a name or designation. What can I call you?” He spoke this out loud, which drew a curious stare from Tethal.
The machine seemed to think again before projecting its answer directly to him along their unique connection. “You may call me General-Purpose Virtual Operations and Assistant Management System. Designation: G-P VOAMS.”
His view showed that scrolling text box it used to both visually and verbally speak to him with. In this case, it sat just beside the arch and slowly wrote the words it spoke to him. Marshall noted that the voice was slowly starting to become more feminine as it spoke, but Marshall wrote that off to some kind of adaptable voice module it had. “Yeah, too long.” He said this through the connection instead of out loud again. “Instead, lets call you… Voam. Vam? Vom? Yeah, that acronym isn’t friendly at all. Let’s instead call you Archie.”
If Luz was here, he had a distinct feeling that she would have smacked him for his horrid naming sense. He had always been god-awful in naming things, even when he named his craft ‘Bit’ when he first flew it due to him calling it vulgar names when it stalled on him. Yet the thought of Luz drove a small sadness to creep into his mind before he was able to shake it from his head. No, no time to be sad. He had a job at hand and needed to get it done.
“Affirmative: adding designation ‘Archie’ to reference sheet for user [Conductor]. Downloading reference sheet.” The words scrawled quickly across his gaze before it fell silent and removed the text box. Reference sheet? For what?
Marshall shook off the question, just as he did the bad thought earlier, and refocused. Archie (oh he’s gonna have so much fun with this) had displayed all kinds of data from the contact on his iris about this machine. It was actually somewhat overwhelming and mostly things that went over his head, but he understood some of what was in the boxes.
This thing seemed to be, just as Archie said, a gateway between two points. Something about linking two points together and then syncing them up to fool reality to think it’s the same place. Even as he read that, a small warning box sat below it.
“Warning! Reverse wavelength detected inside archway. Please reset parameters to regular ranges and assign a point inside effective range.”
Yeah, that gave some clues about what the nest was doing. It seemed to be working in the opposite direction to what the arch normally did. Did that make any sense to Marshall or what he was supposed to do next? No. Did that give him ideas to throw things at the wall till something worked? Abso-fucking-lutely. Marshall may not be on the techie-side of things, but he knew he was around hitting a machine with a wrench until it stopped complaining or start working.
“Hey Archie, I know you’re doing something right now, but can you tell me what would happen if I just slammed this thing on at full power?” Marshall looked the device up and down for any kind of clue for the answer before it actively told him, but found nothing in that quick glance. This thing was just a mountain of documentation and no substance. Exactly like a manual for a device normally was.
There was a small line that appeared at the top of his gaze that loaded fairly quickly and disappeared. Then that same box appeared next to the arch. “Full power is not a term that I can equate. It is on or off, no degree between. In the case that you would turn on the Flux-Gate; a large disruption in the Flux around it would cause it to collapse any currently present Flux- equipment or gates currently operating. Recommendation: clean atmosphere with a Flux-Pump before turning on -Gate.”
A smile spread across Marshall’s face as he stepped towards the hole. It churned below him nearly unseen, but Marshall knew what rested on the other side of that very thin film of reality. It was death; unequivocal and horrid. But that was what was below him and not what his hand was now touching. “So I shouldn’t do something like this then?”
His finger pressed down on a red button labeled ‘Power’ on the side of the arch as Archie began flooding his vision with boxes. They all read some manner of ‘Warning!’ and ‘Danger!’ with a heavy dose of the feeling of panic rush through the link between them. Emotion? A machine that classifies itself as a Virtual Intelligence shouldn’t have any kind of emotions or even personality. And yet, that fear was so palpable that it nearly felt like he was the one feeling it.
The messages were joined by words being pressed into his head. At first they mimicked the boxes, but soon changed. “Warning! Warning! Conductor; please back away from the Void-Horizon. Suggested distance is five-hundred meters.”
The box nearly slammed itself into his face, metaphorically as these things weren’t real, and supported the yelled message. Marshall took a few steps back to Tethal, who just watched on in fascination. “Incredible… The energy coming from this old thing is just… Incredible. But if you’ll excuse me–” And like that, he did a spin and was gone once again.
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Marshall’s eyes darted to the door and he took off at great speed towards the entrance to the room. It felt like the distance melted in seconds as he sprinted full-force through the door, nearly breaking the hinges as he did, and rocketed down the hallway. If this thing was going to go up, he needed to be far away from it when it did. “Archie, time until activation?”
A small counter appeared at the edge of his vision, which made him slow down considerably. This thing took five minutes to turn on. Seriously? So he had time to fuck off with his new pace and even get a comfy spot to watch it happen as it cooked off? His hand landed on the doorknob and he turned it to open the door to the stairwell.
What greeted him out there wasn’t too surprising, but his heart ached all the same. Delton had been sitting at the bottom of the steps that the Vampire had come down. It seemed Delton had drawn his attention for a moment before his end came. Tellar hadn’t even tried to make it clean, the blood on the ceiling of the next flight of stairs telling him all he needed to know. Yet, the body spoke more. Delton fought till the last and the bullet holes around the flight of stairs showed he had damn near emptied the mag to get the monster. The fact that he still held the gun meant that he hadn’t been disarmed. The missing upper section, however, seemed to be what finally stopped him.
Marshall knelt down next to the man and reached out. His hand pressed against what was left of his chest, gently applying pressure to it. This was a member of his squadron, of his chosen-family in the Castle, that had come down here with him. One of the only ones to survive. Now here he was: dead because of a monster like Tellar. He hadn’t been affected like Marshall had, hadn’t been changed by the Scourge like he had. He was just a normal man compared to the monsters that lurked down here on the surface of Terra.
A moment was all he was allowed. A moment for the family who had passed, and the last of what he saw as home carved and sprayed across the walls of this new and dangerous place. He knew what he wore was remains as well, but they didn’t have the same place as a living, breathing person. No, Delton had been more of a symbol to him than anything else. A promise that home was still an option. And now, it was anything other than certain.
He had been driving hard to get past The Wall at the suggestion of the Captain of HMW Betty as well as Cadence and Roberts. Yet, how would he get home after getting past The Wall? What waited for him on the other side that would guarantee that he could go home? Could he even go home now that he was in the state he was in? The questions assaulted him as his hand pressed against that damaged and eviscerated torso, the warmth already leaving it.
The sadness that he felt for Luz, Delton, Gregory, Felix, Samantha, and all those that he had lost started to bubble up within him and leak out through his eyes and voice. Tears fell from his eyes without prompting and his breath became more labored. He had time to spare, but not enough to properly grieve like he so needed to. A grieving that he couldn’t ignore much longer, but needed to for now to survive. He owed Delton at least that much.
Marshall gathered up what remained of Delton into his arms, the chest leaking blood that was left and the neck now loosely hanging without anything to hold up. It was disgusting to Marshall, but he refused to let him rot down here when everything was blown apart. That was not how Phoenixes are treated by family.
The stairs lead up and out into what seemed to be yet another damn hallway, but this one noticeably different from the last few. For one thing: the gunfire was so abhorrently loud now that he found it nearly deafening. Bullets ripped through the air throughout the rooms facing in one direction. Marshall figured that direction was where the offenders were firing at the bandits. And to Marshall: things that hate bandits are already a peg up in the social scale compared to these scum.
He kicked down a door into one of the rooms where he heard firing from. There were three men inside, each manning what seemed to be a machine-gun of some kind that was mounted by a robotic arm to the cover they were behind. When they heard the door slam open they each started turning and grabbing for guns set to the side. Marshall didn’t give them the chance and, with the gun resting under the body of Delton, fired once each for each bandit. The armor they wore cracked and gave way like butter under the pressure and material of the bullet as it slammed into them. All they wore was what could be looted and retrofitted from nearby civilian armories after all. What did he expect?
With the gun now down; Marshall stepped through the window and landed just outside the room with a light ‘thud’. This place seemed to be an old-Terra hospital or nursing home, but with the thing caved in so badly it was hard to tell. A burning wreck of an armored vehicle was a couple dozen meters to his left, the ammo still somewhat cooking off inside of it and making pinging noises inside the hull. The area outside was a mess of rubble and wreckage from the fighting and whatever blew the center of the building apart.
Marshall’s eyes scanned over to a man holding the limp body of a woman by the arm, her eyes shut and mountains of flowers around them. The gunfire had slowed down to a couple of people trading shots, so the sound of someone crying behind the fountain was more than audible as Marshall took in the situation.
The feeling that Marshall got from this man, dressed in Hawaiian casual wear and sweatpants was absolutely not reflected by his outfit. While he looked like a Hawaiian poker player out on a walk at his resort, the man felt like a wild animal who was stalking his prey. The grip on the woman’s arm didn’t help, as it was visibly choking out blood from the rest of her arm as she hung limply from it.
Marshall took a couple of steps towards the man and instantly stopped in his tracks. The man’s head had turned enough to show that he was side-eyeing him with such a ferocity that it felt like a spring ready to explode with potential. Yet, as soon as it was there, it was gone again as he turned fully and adopted a large smile. “Oh my~ it seems the rabbit has fled the hutch.”
With a flick of his wrist he sent the woman flying to land next to the fountain some distance away. “And he has a present? No, that seems to be a friend? And that looks like Tellar’s work as well. Tough break, rabbit.”
He tried to maintain his nerves as the man talked. Yet, it felt like even conversing with this man was insanely dangerous as well. With a hard swallow, Marshall defied his instinct and replied. “Who… are you?”
The man seemed to stand there for a moment before tilting his head back and laughing heartily. When he was done, he leaned back down and held his stomach as he tried to get the laugh back under control. “I… ahahah… I’m sorry, I’m just not used to being asked that twice in the same day.” The smile on his lips seemed to curl into a more veracious smile that seemed to crave something. “Usually people see me and stay back. At least with Petrov and his band of misfits and rejects. Yet, I can’t say I’ve really explored outside that group in some years, so maybe it really is time to reintroduce myself again.”
The man… posed? Yes, he lifted his foot up and put it on an imaginary something as he posed into the light of late morning. “I am Sir Barnaby, a hedge-knight currently on quest from Her Majesty to slay corrupted people far past humanity and The Wall. Take in my grandeur, and lament that you happened to come across me, or take joy in that your life shall soon be rendered pure and saved!” He looked back down towards Marshall with a smile and dropped the pose and hovering foot. “Or, just Barns. I’m taking a vacation right now from the questing and laying low in the local thugs. Petrov is a friend from old days, you see.”
Marshall just stared at the man before adopting a look of pure disbelief and confusion. He couldn’t hide the feeling that was bubbling up in his chest. Anxiety and confusion formed together into a sense that he just needed to leave… whatever the fuck all this was. He looked up to the timer that now said three minutes. “Listen, Barns, I have no idea what literally any of that means, but–”
Barns held up a hand and the other rose to press against his forehead. “Yes! You are absolutely right. I was a fool to front-load all of that. You’re an Outlander, right? So you don’t really know much about politics or who is in charge where. What a poor thing you must be, afraid and alone.”
A response barely left Marshall’s lips before Barns was in front of him. It was like he was in one spot, then suddenly directly before him. Marshall felt his stomach explode in pain and, less than a moment later, he was trying to catch his breath and pry himself from the wall he landed in. He had been nearly ten meters from the wall, and yet he was knocked into that quickly?!
Marshall’s vision swam as he raised his head up enough to look at the man who had just sent him flying. What the fuck was it and people here introducing themselves with punches? Yet the outrage he felt was dwarfed by the curdling rage that he felt as the man stood above the now fallen body of Delton. “Yet being lost doesn’t give you innocence. Outlanders like you are vermin that run from the problems of the world.” His eyes no longer held that same mirth, but instead a resigned gaze. Even his body’s movements became sharper. His gaze raised to Marshall as he stepped over Delton’s body. “So here we are, what you left behind. All of us who weren’t worth saving and taking off the planet. We weren’t smart, royal, or examples of fitness. We weren’t special.”
The man grabbed onto Marshall’s stuck leg and tossed him like a doll back towards the center of the lawn. He bounced once before slamming into the fountain in its center. Marshall’s vision swam, but he forced himself to rise anyways. The healing that came from that Void-stuff was going to need to put in some work, and Marshall knew it.
The man’s voice pierced through Marshall’s thoughts as he spoke again. “I’m going to show you what we had to become to survive in the world you Outlanders got to escape from. And as you join your friend where all Outlanders go, I want you to remember Barnaby sent you to Hell personally.”