#xcom fic

What…? What? For just a moment, she activated her psionics and reached out. Oh, right. 

With another stretch, her eyes slowly fluttered open before she looked down. Holding on to her as if she would slip away like the wind was Bradford. He looked to be in deep sleep and was muttering something. 

Gently, she placed a hand on his head, fingers rifled through his hair, before she started to probe at their bond of connection. 

Exhausted. Content. A million plans running through his mind concerning everything he was missing back on the ship since the incident. 

Work never ends. She heard it repeated in his mind a few times, catching glimpses of other memories tied to the notion. She snorted at that. Something she dealt with constantly. But her flat nose soon scrunched up when she sensed something that concerned her. 

“Hm…” It was faint, but she felt those feelings he had for her. The old and the new. Neither had faded. They felt more impassioned before and deeply intertwined with each other. 

She let out an annoyed sigh. “We fell on the wayside. I fear I may have made this worse. We don’t need this. You don’t need this.”

Then she gleaned something else. Concern. For a moment, her lips pulled back into a grimace, causing her to bare her sharp teeth.

“Wait…”

She gently probed at the feeling some more. A frightened concern. Fear, sorrow, and a hint of anger riddled every part of it. As she probed at it, she wheezed when Bradford’s grip tightened around her, and his nails dug deeper into her back. She grimaced more as she felt a pull on her psionics, digging deep into her being.

This pull… Is the connection still going?

“Sorry… I’m so sorry we couldn’t find you sooner.” He muttered the words in his sleep. “What did They do to you? Why? Why?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wonder…” 

It only took a little tapping to find the faint connection that was glowing brightly in their bond. A bond that had also strengthened. 

That’s… not good…

As her mind was adding that to the list of concerns, curiosity grabbed at her. Why was it still going? And what could have strengthened it? Just as she was going to press into it to explore it and see what was disturbing his sleep, she relented. 

I don’t want to violate that tentative trust. And my gambit may have already shattered it. 

She closed her eyes as she wondered where their conversation would go once he woke up. Would he be furious? Annoyed? Or understanding? And how would Asaru weigh in?

Just let there be no violence.

As her mind formulated plans on how to deal with the possible futures, another part of her brain was examining herself. She felt… strange. There was still that programmed indoctrination raging in its cage for what she had done, but she felt a faint shift in those aspects of love that were supposed to be seared out of her. It felt as if something was there now, slowly growing and blooming. And she felt subtle connections to memories she didn’t remember existing. 

She touched her chest. “Strange…” Something to explore later. 

She let her mind dwell on the new and confusing feelings before she decided to worry about them later. It was time to get up, which was its own hassle. 

“No, don’t go. Jynn… please…” A faint plea came from the sleeping Bradford as soon as he felt the faintest shift and push from her. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

His grip tightened around her waist, and that tail wrapped around her for good measure, too. 

Her nose wrinkled, even more so at the name he used. She had a feeling their talk was going to be tough. 

It took a fair amount of finagling and gentle pokes with her psionics to get the man to release her. She had to swiftly pull herself away, nearly stumbling out of the bed, before those arms closed in once more. Once out of bed and standing, she stretched again. 

She fetched her plug-suit and tossed it over her shoulder; that needed to go to her armory for a quick maintenance check and cleaning. She found Bradford’s pants and placed them on a nearby chair. 

“Let me freshen up, and then I will wake him.”

As she was heading to her bathroom to freshen up, her hands were slowly going over her body. She faintly hissed as she rubbed her shoulders and then her backside. 

“He’s rough with those nails. And I think he may have bit me on my shoulder…”

————————

She meditated while taking an icy shower. As she did so, she poked at the new memories. Something from the old her. They were less fragmented than she had expected. Some more glimpses of her childhood, a funeral for her grandfather, and her time leading XCOM. All featured certain key personnel heavily. Bradford was one of them. And then a ghost of an alien that would sometimes catch a glimpse of in the mirror, or lingering around one of the Sub-Commanders, before shifting back over to her. She quickly deduced that it was most likely Asaru.

She let out a heavy sigh. “My predictions were terribly wrong. My gambit may cost him dearly. Their… Our friendship was much closer than I assumed…” She paused. “Why did I say that?”

She searched within herself again. She still felt distant from her old self, but as she poked at those memories again, she felt an odd fondness for them. They were comforting. 

“Hm…” Is this the shift I was seeking? Was part of this gambit a boon for me? That was something for her to delve into deeper at a later time. 

She picked at the memories for a little while more before she finished her shower.

Drying herself off, she slipped into something more casual. A red form-fitting top with black lines, and loose black pants.

“I wonder if he’s awake?”

————————

Before entering the main chambers, her mind tapped at the facility’s Network to see what was going on. The facility was functioning as usual. The Avenger was still stationed in the Docking Bay. Then she found the chatter concerning her whisking away Bradford. People were not happy. Corvo and the other figureheads were struggling to keep everything under control. Maker’s assurances that the two were still within the facility barely quelled anything. Which wasn’t helped by the Elder’s own simmering annoyance towards her that he did not hide, nor could he. His shellbodies were burning out faster than usual.

I expect to get shot the moment I step near the Avenger. And Maker is going to have his own punishment for me… 

The former barely bothered her, but the latter. Eyes slowly closing tight, her mind brought forth an unpleasant memory. It did not deal with her, but someone else. Someone who had betrayed Maker’s kindness and trust. She learned he had the capacity to be cruel like the other Elders, if not more frightening.

Her body trembled, recalling their screams as a torrent of corrupted psionic energy ripped through them.

I wonder if that fool is still alive? Were they a double-agent since the beginning, or did the other Elders promise them an elevated status if they pried into Maker’s work? I understand why Maker scrutinizes anything that comes from the Others and why he has his own production facilities…

Returning to the main chambers, her ears were greeted by snoring. Then she saw him all curled up, tangled in the sheets — a little bit of his tail stuck out and smacked against the bed every other murmur. She shook his head but couldn’t help but softly laugh.

“Cute.”

Slowly, she sat on the side of the bed he was mostly facing. The faint give in the mattress made him snort.

“Hm…? Jynn...?” He mumbled in his sleep as a hand began to pat the cool space around him before slowly going over to her.

She wrinkled her nose, hearing that. This will be such a problem. Time to wake him.

Ignoring that searching hand, she leaned over and stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder. She was just a few inches away before she suddenly found her hand coming to a stop as an invisible force pressed against it.

Her eyes narrowed when she felt the press back. It wasn’t forceful, but matched her strength. Just as she was about to activate her psionics, several tentacles manifested around Bradford, one of which was underneath that hand.

“Asaru?” She asked with a faint hint of surprise. She withdrew her hand.

There was no answer at first. The tentacles stretched out in a searching pattern. The bulbous tips glowed bright as faint dots of electricity flickered up and down the translucent appendages. One wrapped around Bradford’s searching hand and dragged it back. A few went over to her and hovered dangerously close to her body.

Jy-Sol let out a few grunts as she felt the alien push and pull on her being before those tentacles retracted back over to Bradford.

“It is I,” Asaru finally answered. “I believe your offer may not have worked as you planned for John.”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. A faint nod followed. “I believe my prediction probabilities were off.”

“I believe that is an understatement.”

“How so?” Her dry tone made clear that the question was entirely sarcastic and rhetorical. A faint chortle came from Asaru.

A few tentacles tapped at Bradford’s head. “I’ve had time to analyze the blur of memories and emotions from that little impassioned escapade and where his mind and body are currently as he rests.” A sigh slipped out as Asaru knew the headache of a conversation he was going to have with his host later. “It has only emboldened his feelings and deeply intertwined the new and old you together.” 

“Mhm.” Jy-Sol chewed on the inside of her lip. Something she had noticed earlier with her little probing. “Shouldn’t it be one or the other?”

“You would think, but I believe he sensed part of the old you resurfacing for just a moment or found something deeper within your being. Whichever it was, it inflamed his heart.” A tentacle drifted over and gently tapped at her chest. Once it moved, her hand moved there. “A faint change you have detected in yourself, yes?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure. I’ve had more memories come back together, but I still feel distant from Jynn.” 

“And the new feelings?”

She froze for just a moment. How did he know? The thought only lingered for a second before she recalled the probing he did, and possibly just a faint imprint of her emotions was left in her bond with Bradford.

“I… I don’t know… Everything feels strange to me. Foreign. It is all…” She paused as her nails picked at her chest. Should she say it? Something that was anathema to her making, for she was to be an instrument of such an emotion. “Frightening.”

Asaru let out a faint mhm. 

Tentacles drifted back over to her, but didn’t come as close as they did the first time.

“This little leap off the edge has triggered another turmoil within yourself. Something else that grates at your remaking and indoctrination as it burrows in like an invasive weed, but grows like a freshly sprouted and tender seedling.”

Jy-Sol only replied with a faint mhm.

A faint blue glow appeared around Bradford before it grew into a blinding light as if it were the rising sun. Jy-Sol had to turn her head away and raised a hand to block it.

As quickly as the light came, it disappeared. As she turned back, she gasped. 

Floating softly in a cross-legged position above Bradford was Asaru. She had never seen the alien outside of its host. She had glimpsed him from time to time, briefly overlaying Bradford’s body during those interrogations against her, a few memories she pulled from him and some captive XCOM soldiers, and her own fragmented memories. His appearance was much more breathtaking than she could have ever imagined. 

“You reveal yourself to me… why?” She asked.

“It is long overdue.” He said. “And perhaps a test to see if you recall what I look like?” He gestured to himself.

She scrutinized his form. A thin frame, four-armed frame that reminded her of the Elders. And that’s where it ended. Everything was so much different. He almost seemed incorporeal. His near-translucent appearance and faint glow made him look like a ghost.

Is his species distantly related to the Elders? Besides his power… is that another reason why They wish to capture him? 

Her eyes lingered on his form for a long time as she searched through her memories. They found a few fragments — some of her most damaged memories — between the years before she had been sought out by XCOM and just before she was given full control over the organization. There was something there. A meeting. A faint imprint. A ghost lingered just behind two people before they fully emerged and properly joined the conversation. As the memory attempted to move further, it shattered and crumbled into incoherent nonsense with interference from her “new” memories. 

She shook her head. “I believe no. The memories are distant or removed.”

Raising a hand to his head, he tapped at the bubble membrane as his skull shifted back and forth. 

“Hm. A shame. Though…” A tentacle floated over to her head and stopped just an inch away. “I believe a deeper search may reveal something. As I said before, I sensed a shift and perhaps something more... I wish to explore it.”

She eyed that tentacle. Her fingers drummed against the bed. Throat trembling, she looked away. “Would that be wise?”

“At this exact moment? No.” A faint chuckle came from the alien. He gestured lazily with his hand. “I would prefer to examine it in a more secure and controlled setting. I know nothing has happened during your sessions with the Templars, but I have a faint warning gnawing at me that this exploration may cause your psionics to respond negatively or your former Masters will detect it and interfere.” 

She looked away when he mentioned the Elders. A hand went up to her psi-helm. One gift from Maker that started her down her changed path. A gift that let her have more “free thoughts” and privacy against the Elders. A gift that allowed her to push Them out and sever her connection to Them.

Is it truly severed? She could feel Their touch linger on her being. Just a faint connection of Their power that was still intertwined with her, even though her true powers had been pushing it out over the months. No… I am still bound to Them until They or that is destroyed…

Feeling that her mind wanted to tread into a dark and inevitable future she did not want to dwell on, her mind shifted back over to Bradford.

He needs to join the conversation. I just wonde— wait…

A memory came to mind. His strange reaction to one word.

“I have a question.”

“Yes?” Asaru said, head tilting to the side.

“Just as we were on the cusp of the edge when I believed John would reject my idea after he… sensed there was more to my proposal…” She hesitated to admit her minor deceit. “He had a strange reaction to one word I said.” She pulled at the memory to recall it better. “At first, he was confused before he began to laugh and grew excited. As if all hesitation and concerns evaporated.”

Asaru tapped at his head as if he had lips. “Hm. Curious. What was the word?”

“Cher.”

Asaru let out a brief hm. His skull jittered about as he searched his memories. A few tentacles hovered over Bradford’s head, their tips glowing a soft blue and yellow.

“Huh…” He inclined his head to the side, slowly tilting it to look at Bradford; the inner floating skull rotated faster. “Huh…”

Asaru made a few more musing noises as more tentacles shifted over to Bradford. The man grunted in response to the increased probing, but did not stir from his sleep. Jy-Sol watched with a curious eye, but said nothing.

It wasn’t until several minutes of silence that she finally spoke up.

“What did you find?”

He didn’t respond, but a tentacle floated over to her and gently pressed against her head. There was a faint tug that made her wince.

“Asaru.”

“A moment.”

A few more minutes passed before he finally turned his attention back to her.

“Interesting…” He mumbled to himself. A finger was still tapping away at his head; he retracted the tentacle pressed against her head. “To answer your question, the word ties back to the human you. Cajun French from Louisiana. It escapes me at the moment if Jynn was born in that state, but her father was, and he had a rather thick accent, which bled onto his children.” A little laughter began to seep out as he began recalling some memories from their old bond. “From what I can remember during our bond, when she was rather tired or frustrated, the accent would come out in full force. And that’s not including the Japanese she would slip into and pepper it with rather choice words from other languages she knew.”

“Ah…” She slowly nodded. Her mind went to work processing and comparing the information. Eyes drifting back to Bradford, her nose wrinkled. This is worrisome. 

She let an annoyed, pained sigh slip out. “He’s believing in something that isn’t there… That doesn’t exist… anymore…”

“I wouldn’t entirely say that.” Asaru tutted, waggling a tentacle.

“Asaru…” She let out another sigh. “You know from what I have told and from what the Templ—”

A tentacle pressed against her lips, silencing her. As quickly as it touched her, she pulled back and snarled, furrowing her brows as her eyes glowed fiercely.

“Calm down.” Asaru made a threatening jab with the tentacle. “You give in to despair concerning your past too easily.” He began to explain, making a few gestures towards Bradford. “Though recovering your former self looks bleak, there seems to be more beneath that fragmented surface.” He then pressed a tentacle against her chest. “That an… unorthodox… method roused from the depths, pulling at old strings from our bond to do so.”

As that tentacle pulled back, Jy-Sol touched where it once was on her chest. Those strange feelings fluttered inside her, making her stomach twist. Eyes closed tight, her fingers drummed against her like the lightning-fast thrusts she would make with her glaive.

Is what he said true? Why… why do I feel this way? Part of her wished she could cut it out and cast it away. It was too troublesome.

“I… I feel like John should be privy to this discussion.”

“Let me wake him,” Asaru said.

The tentacles, some hovering and others pressing against the man’s body, began to brighten. More grunts came from Bradford as he slowly began to stir.

There was a great deal of shifting before an arm wriggled itself free from the twisted sheets and swatted at the offending tentacles.

“Stop that, Asaru,” Bradford grumbled. 

“Time to get up. You’ve slept enough.” Asaru said with a faint tease as he jabbed at the man several more times before quickly pulling back his tentacles as that angry hand came back around to strike at them again.

Bradford grumbled some more, wishing for just another hour’s worth of sleep. He curled into himself and let out a low groan as he rubbed his face. It took him a bit more before he started to groggily raise himself, fighting with the sheets he had tangled himself in like a spider’s web.

“Whaaaat’s so important that you can’t let me sleep longer? Is Maker wanting to do more bu—” Just as he was rubbing the last bit of sleep from his tired eyes, before he finally recognized where he was. Eyes darting around, they fell on Jy-Sol. 

Right…  The evening was coming back to him. His tail twitched. She’s dressed… A part of him was disappointed by that. Just the fleeting thought of him wanting to touch her bare flesh intimately again crossed his mind before Asaru shunted it out. And looks… concerned. 

His head slowly turned to look at Asaru. The alien made a few flicking gestures with his tentacles.

Just give me a few details. Bradford sent a thought.

It is layered. Deals with that little romp you two entertained. Asaru answered.

You are never going to let me live this down, are you?

As you said ages ago, I’m the annoying sibling you never asked for. Asaru playfully teased. Sooooo, no. There was a faint jitter in his skull.

Smartass. 

With a rough clearing of his throat, Bradford looked back over to Jy-Sol. What to say? What to say?

“H-how are you doing? I hope I didn’t… kick you out of the bed?” He noticed he was practically sitting in the middle, hogging all of the sheets.

A faint smile graced Jy-Sol’s face. “I am doing… fine.” She didn’t mean to hesitate; it just came out naturally. “You didn’t. In fact, I had to fight to get out of bed. You’re rather clingy.”

Red tinged his cheeks. “Uh, s-sorry…”

“How are you feeling?”

“A little sore…” A faint grunt slipped out as he craned his neck. “But otherwise fine.” 

Feeling that tension of awkward silence rising, Bradford knew he was going to have to bring it up. He could faintly sense she was lying about being fine. 

She must have some thoughts on how things went… Wonder how she feels about it… Hope I wasn’t too demanding… Or did she see what I saw during our connection? 

His mind briefly focused on the sex, which was surprisingly good, before it switched over to something he caught due to their psionic connection. 

Let me talk about that. Ignore the sex talk for now…. Mostly.

He pulled himself over to her, pausing when he noticed her tensing. Just for a second, her eyes took on the intensity of a predator studying its target, attempting to figure out its next move before they relaxed.

She must think I must be… He didn’t complete the thought as a mental sigh took over. 

“About what we did…” Searching for words, he chewed on his tongue. 

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched her hand; she tensed again. There was a faint contraction in her muscles as her hand shifted, but never pulled away. 

“I’m… sorry if I got too handsy or demanding.” He could faintly recall that he was still touchy off and on while they had sex, and when things finally cooled off before passing out. His hands were so demanding as they continued exploring her body. Pressing. Caressing. Gripping. Clawing.

“Barely a bother.” Jy-Sol dismissed his concerns. “You had your needs that needed satisfying. I just hoped I was able to answer that to the degree that was sufficient.”

He was about to say something else, but her nonchalant attitude threw him off. Just a faint snort slipped out as he raised a brow. “… You’re making it sound like a business transaction.”

“Am I?” She inclined her head to the side. There was a faint pull on the corners of her lips. “Maybe,” she shrugged, “it is akin to the ‘quid quo pro’ work you frequently do with the Resistance.”

Bradford’s brows twitched again at her blasé attitude. Did she feel nothing? Does she feel nothing? I swear she felt something in that connection…

An abrupt mental thwack made him wince before important details from the discussion with Maker were shoved to the forefront of his mind. 

He turned his head ever so slowly to glare at Asaru.

Asaru made a few flicking gestures with his tentacles. Focus and get on with it. Think less about the adventurous romp and more on what is trying to rebuild itself.

I know what I felt. But Maker’s words were filling that doubt in his heart. And I will!

He took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose and grumble a few more things at Asaru before looking back at Jy-Sol.

“Ignoring that…” Half the comment was directed to Asaru, and then what she had likened their sex to. “I… I think your dangerous idea helped and—”

“Helped?” Jy-Sol nearly choked on the word; her eyes widened as she drew her head back. She fought the innate urge to sneer; her lips twitched as her upper lip wanted to curl.

He raised a brow. “Helped and… complicated things. Really complicated things…”

“Helped?” She couldn’t help but question that again, almost ignoring what he said next as she expected that to come out first.

His eyes became hooded as he let out an annoyed sigh. Fighting a storm here… From what I sense, that was locked up before the act… 

Not giving her a chance to react, he moved closer before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, lightly pressing the side of his head against hers.

“It’s… It’s hard to explain.” His voice dropped into a low whisper riddled with pain. “But… You’re still in there. Despite everything They did to you… You are still in there… just… just torn apart,” his voice cracked, “and buried deep. I’m so sorry we couldn’t find you in time, Jynn.”

Jy-Sol didn’t return the hug. She froze, hands hovering just a few inches from his body. She cast a glance at Asaru, who only shrugged and gestured for her to do something.

“What are you talking about?” She asked. “You can’t be saying that because of one word I uttered?”

Bradford didn’t immediately answer. It took him some time to pull back so they were face-to-face once again. As he did so, he released his grip and shifted his hands to her face. Gently caressing it as he studied her features, ignoring the increasingly puzzled look, with a hint of frustration growing in her eyes. 

“Our… our connection. That little bond I try to ignore...” He began to explain. “It showed me… so much. You… You’ve suffered so much… Asaru and I glimpsed that over the years, even more in those… interrogations.” Within a few blinks, tears were running down his face. “I’m so sorry.” He pressed his head against hers. Those hands dropped back down, wrapping around her once again to hold her tight. “I’m so sorry. How long were you calling out to us? To me?” His voice trembled. “As those Bastards tore you apart day and night…”

“What are you talking about?” She received no answer. 

She stole a glance towards Asaru. Explain to me what he is rambling on about?

Asaru was silent for a while. A few sparks of energy cascaded throughout his head as his skull shifted away from her gaze for just a moment. That is a… complicated subject.

Find a way to shorten it. Her thoughts were demanding.

Asaru stretched out a few tentacles towards her and touched her head. The tips glowed a dull blue as they pressed against her skin. 

This will be unpleasant. Asaru gave a brief warning before a few trickles of electricity traveled down the tentacles as they began to glow brighter. 

Jy-Sol dropped her hands down to the bed before she almost reflexively gripped Bradford from the sudden, painful shunt of information into her mind. 

Her vision went dark for a little while before the shared memories ordered themselves and began to play. 

It was Bradford, Asaru, Geist, and others in various locations. ADVENT facilities and high-security storage vaults. Various overgrown or desolated places on the Earth. And some of XCOM’s auxiliary locations; some had survived over the years, untouched by the desolation that befell the Bases. But at each location, it looked like Bradford and Asaru were tracking something. Chasing ghosts. Chasing her.

At first, she was a little confused about how the other locations factored into this, as she had been in the Elders’ hands since she was captured, but as she watched, she began to understand. Each location had a strong concentration of psionic energy and had varying levels of her psionic signature deposited there. 

Just traces of her conciseness, traces of memories that had escaped the confines of the hell she had been subjected to over the many, long years; the first few months to years having her brain scoured as the Elders practiced Their common standards on nearly all of Their slave races. Sometimes, partially aware when plugged into the Network. Other times, partially aware when she was pulled out for “maintenance” or further experimenting and “improvements.” 

Each trace they would find would bring forth a haunting image, a nightmare that had plagued Bradford for many years since he rejoined the remnants of XCOM.

Find me.

Hearing that frail, trembling voice of her former human self chilled Jy-Sol’s blood — she could feel the same feeling deeply embedded in the memories for Asaru and Bradford. She could see herself. If she could even call the emaciated and broken body her own to begin with, or even human. Her form seemed to flicker back and forth between various states. Some were much worse than others. Some showed signs of Hybridization and her eventual conversion into a Chosen.

I know the process to create my siblings and I is not kind… but this… Did any of them go through this? Jy-Sol questioned, keeping the thoughts to herself.

She continued to watch the memories. Watch as it seemed Asaru and Bradford could react to the faint psionic projection of her broken self and comfort her. The embraces never seemed to last long enough for Bradford’s tastes.

I… I have no recollection of any of this. Jy-Sol tried searching through her mind for anything like this, but only drew blanks. Her brows furrowed as she chewed on her tongue. A sharp exhale left her nose. What did John find that I cannot?

Thank you, Asaru. Please end this. She sent a thought to him.

It took a while before he brought the memories to an end and retracted his tentacles. 

She still found herself in Bradford’s tight grip. His breathing was still shaky. A whispered “sorry” slipped out here and there. 

Hm. Releasing her death grip on the bed, she flexed her hands a few times before she brought them to his face.  She gave a gentle push, but he refused to budge. 

“John.” She said softly. “I need some breathing room so we can talk.”

The man grumbled. Taking in a sharp breath, his grip tightened before he relaxed and pulled back. A few more grumbles slipped out. He tried to turn his head away, but she kept him facing towards her. 

“Asaru showed me what you were talking about. The projections.” She said before whispering those pained words. “Find me.” 

Throat tightening, he reflexively shut his eyes tight and clenched his jaw. He gave no answer. 

“Are there any more layers that complicate your views for Reeves and me?”

Bradford continued to tighten his jaw as the grimace grew. Ears flicking back and forth like his tail, he sharply exhaled. His eyes rolled behind closed lids. “Do you really have to ask that?”

“That would be an understatement,” Asaru added.

“Mhm…” Jy-Sol shook her head. “Would now be the best time to talk about that, or another time?”

“Another time,” Asaru answered for Bradford. “It… it requires a visit to a special location for you to better understand.”

Jy-Sol let out a slow hiss of a sigh. “I sense that it is another issue wrapped up in layers of convulsion and riddled by the twisted handiwork of my former Masters, correct?”

Asaru nodded. “You are spot on.”

Jy-Sol’s brows furrowed and nose wrinkled, not too surprised by the answer. I swear, once the Elders are driven from the Earth, Their handiwork will stain this world for decades.

Jy-Sol was almost lost in her thoughts as she was tallying up the various known, less-known, and unknown projects the Elders were working on and the ones that had escaped Their grasp that would need near immediate attention once the Earth was free from Their control, when she felt something trail down her back a few times.

Before she knew it, Bradford had pulled himself closer to her and was resting his head on her shoulder.

“Jy-Sol…” He whispered. “Back to last night…” He paused, mouth slightly ajar as he searched for his words. “Did you feel anything?”

Back to this? Jy-Sol wasn’t sure why the question annoyed her. “Why are you asking this? You know what I am, who my Creators are.” She didn’t want to answer.

Bradford’s grip tightened. “Did you feel anything?” He asked again. “Just… just tell me. No lies. Please… Don’t hide your intentions from me.”

“John… I…” Jy-Sol’s voice trailed off. She closed her eyes as she tapped at her own feelings. She recalled when she woke up some hours ago. That strangeness and faint fear permeated her body as that programmed indoctrination still raged in its cage. “I… don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He asked, but felt like he already knew the answer.

“Must I explain from what you have witnessed over the ages concerning the Elders’ handiwork?” Her tone treaded closely to an annoyed sneer. She didn’t wait for an answer. “I… I don’t know. Before the act, I felt nothing. I just wanted to help you and… was seeking answers for myself.” She still felt a pang of guilt admitting her partial deceit. “During… The little mind meld filled the gaps for me, allowing my body and mind to respond in kind to yours. Still… I felt… distant from it all. Heavily disconnected. No true pleasure, ecstasy, or gratification.”

Bradford’s grip tightened again, matching the pained sorrow twisted across his face. “You had to feel something… I know what I felt.” He whispered. She ignored him. 

“After it all… I… I still don’t know.” Jy-Sol’s voice trailed off more than she would have liked. 

Those new feelings fluttered in her chest and plucked at her mind. They made her feel uneasy. Disrupted the carefully crafted lattice of her current personality, breaking those choking coils of indoctrination.

“You and Reeves… were close friends. Closer… than I assumed.” She continued. “Perhaps… perhaps…” Her voice wavered, unsure if she should even voice the thought that just crossed her mind. “She had feelings for you? But was less aware of such things… Consumed by her work. Consumed by fighting to save this world from cruel Masters…”

Bradford’s grip tightened again. Could she have? His mind entertained the thought for only a second before he tossed it. 

No, too dangerous for our line of work. She would have reassigned me to another location within the first month… Unless… But the thought came back. Was she holding it in like me? Did Asaru help her hide it? We did try to downplay how well we knew each other in the beginning… And now I’m remembering Asaru saying he did help past me suppress my feelings when Jynn would run herself ragged when the Elders pressed us…

He squeezed her tight once more before he relinquished her grip. Drawing back, he shifted his hands to her face. They gently cupped the sides as his thumbs gently traced those chitinous growths on her cheekbones. He didn’t hide the hurt in his eyes. Didn’t bother cleaning his tear-stained face.

“What are you feeling right now?” He asked. A pointless question, but he needed an answer.

She only sighed, turning her head away as far as his grip allowed her. “I don’t know. Distant… and conflicted.” She raised a hand to her chest. “I don’t know if I am truly feeling anything… Anything towards you. Everything feels strange and foreign to me. Anathema to my remaking.” 

Her fingers dug into her chest, causing the fabric to bunch up. She said the words that encapsulated the new feelings tearing at her in a near, cracking whisper. “It frightens me.”

Bradford listened to her words carefully. It made his heart hurt and drew forth those dark thoughts that his old friend and love were gone forever. But he felt that faint shift in her being as the truth trickled out.

A deep throaty growl slipped out as his fingers traced her cheekbones a few more times, before one hand slid up and wiped away a tear that slipped out. 

He leaned in, but paused before their lips could touch. He felt the warm breath of hers touch his lips. There was a faint hitch. His breathing hesitated, too. For a few seconds, he stayed closed before pulling back.  

No, not now. It’s… It’s not right. He thought to himself.

“How… how can I help you?” Bradford asked. He held back a snort, but a smile crept across his face as she gave him a puzzled look. “Just think of it as ‘quid pro quo’ for how you helped me.”

A confused and perturbed snorted hiss slipped out from her, and another when he didn’t let her pull back. He’s using my words against me. “John, I don’t think th—”

“There won’t be more sex… unless,” a faint mischievous gleam flashed in his eyes as he shifted, leaning in so close their lips almost touched, but pressed against her body. A little playful growl slipped out. “You want it.” 

A mental thwack from Asaru did not diminish the mischievousness that overcame him with a hint of his new biology pushing those raunchy thoughts in his mind for just a few seconds before the alien wrangled them.

Her eyes twitched for just a second before a nasty laugh, one she couldn’t hold back, slipped out. Bradford released his grip on her just enough to allow her to pull back.

It took her a few minutes to recompose herself.

“Such things to say…” She wiped away a few errant tears that flowed. “What has possessed you now?”

“You can say I’m teetering on that edge again.” He grinned. “And,” he moved closer to her and placed a hand on her chest. He felt her hearts quicken. “I… I don’t want to give up on bringing back the old you, even with the risks. I know I sensed something last night.”

Her eyes became hooded. “John… I…” She still felt that was pointless despite the shifts within herself she had been experiencing.

“Just… Just think about it,” he said. “And maybe…” Adverting his eyes for a few moments, his breathing hitched as he felt a heat rush through his body. His face was turning red. “Maybe… we can make this work in some fashion?” His eyes drifted back to her, slowly looking her up and down. Part of him was still repulsed; he had grown attracted to her Chosen form, but another part had it deeply intertwined with his love for the original her and just didn’t care what she looked like now.

It took a few seconds for it to click in Jy-Sol’s mind. She felt a faint surge of energy in their connection as Asaru applied a few more mental thwacks to his host and could faintly hear the mental thoughts of how exasperated the alien sounded. 

She pressed a hand against her face and shook her head. What have I done? Maybe I fried part of his brain last night…?

Gently tapping at the connection, she tuned into the small argument John and Asaru were having. She caught bits and pieces of some previous fling that Asaru didn’t want repeated, and he was busy hammering in how idiotic entertaining a relationship with the Chosen would be, with how a chunk of the crew still viewed her. Bradford barely had any counters besides ‘they would be careful.’

Moving her hand, she looked at the two. Both were glaring at each other. Asaru had several tentacles surrounding Bradford’s head, all of the tips glowed brightly as sparks of power flowed through the appendages. Bradford’s tail was heartily smacking the bed, with the tip twitching dangerously. His eyes were glowing blue.

Let me stop this before they start throttling each other. Jy-Sol loudly cleared her throat to grab their attention. 

“Ignoring what you just suggested.” She shook her head. Far too dangerous. Bradford looked away as his ears flattened, and his face grew hotter. “I… I just may accept your offer to help me. Perhaps it may bring balance to my fractured soul, even if I may never be able to reclaim who I once was.” She then gestured to Asaru. “He already has a few ideas he wishes to explore.”

Bradford cast a look at Asaru with a raised brow. The alien nodded and then gestured for him to say something.

“Sounds,” he let his eyes wander for a moment as he was carefully searching for his words, “sounds like a plan.” He smiled.

“So be it.” She nodded with a faint smile.

“Now,” a faint ping rang out as a small flash of blue appeared on the bed next to Bradford. It was a shirt and some pants. “It’s about time I took you back. Though if you wish to freshen up before doing so, I can show you to the lavatory.”

Bradford looked at the clothes for just a moment before his nose picked up on the faint peppery musk and something much stronger coming off of him. He closed his eyes tightly. 

I am still getting used to this. Wonder if I’ll smell as bad as those Mutons after a fight. Ugh… still remember how one smelt when those Reapers were doing field dressing that day… 

He reached over and grabbed the clothes. “A shower sounds… nice.”

She nodded and got up. “Then follow me, please.”

Asaru merged back with him before he got up and followed Jy-Sol.

————————

Jy-Sol showed him the lavatory and shower. She fetched whatever he needed before she would leave him be. Not before teasing him if he needed another round of relief, with how she could sense some tension within him through their bond.

Neck mane flaring, the offer was tempting as a flood of errant thoughts nearly clouded his mind before he and Asaru could wrangle them. He nearly yelled at her for making such a joke. A part of him wanted to seize that offer, but he didn’t need his feelings for her to be more muddled before several issues could be sorted out. To his annoyance and surprise, even Asaru found the teasing to be funny.

Bradford took his time in the shower, mostly to relax his mind and order his thoughts. The hot water felt great against his back muscles. And he was having deep discussions with Asaru. What would they tell the crew? What would they tell Maker? There was so much to factor and balance. Nobody could know the truth, or there would be hell to pay.

“I roughly know how several crew members would react. But with Maker? I am having trouble predicting his reaction.” Asaru said. He had separated from Bradford once again and was floating in the corner, enjoying the steam building up in the room.

“Same.” Bradford nodded with a faint grumble. He could clearly picture the accusations of mind control and mutinies that would break out with the crew. But with Maker… he was stumped. “I know he’ll be ticked if any of his delicate work is thrown off.” A faint grunt slipped out as he felt Asaru probe his body.

“Everything feels fine from what I can scan.” He said. “But there is a chance something was thrown off.”

“For Jy-Sol’s sake, I hope not.” He wasn’t in the mood to hear Maker go on a rant and didn’t want to see Jy-Sol be ‘punished’ by him. Corvo had told him of the details of when Jy-Sol nearly interrupted his treatment when the psionic excursions began.

His very power tears him apart every second, but he is still powerful and can control it.

Just as Bradford was slipping off into a brooding mood, a few pokes to his brain made him look at his companion.

“What?” He asked, letting himself sound much more annoyed than he actually was.

“Have all those impassioned feelings finally left your system, now?” Asaru asked, playfully thrusting a few of his at the man’s head. Bradford swatted them away. “Maybe you should have taken up her offer? You did kinda suggest it before her.”

“You know.” He growled before a grumble slipped out. “Mostly… And don’t.”

Asaru snickered. “Expected. And I expect it to keep fluctuating, even if Maker can correct this.” He tapped his head a few times. “Just have to figure out how to keep everything locked up tight. Our bond is still shifting due to your new biology, so I can’t guarantee I can fully suppress those feelings.”

“Don’t remind me.” An annoyed sigh came out. “It’s all… simmered down. Partially because of what emotions she says she lacks, but I still felt something there.”

“I sensed it in your memories. And there is something faintly changing within her. Old, oppressive chains being cast away one by one.” Asaru said. “In due time, with future exploring, we will figure this out.”

“I hope so. I really hope so.” A faint part of himself wanted to give in to those bleak thoughts. He shoved them into the corner. He wouldn’t let them win until all ventures had been explored.

“Now hurry up.” Asaru jabbed his body a few times. “Don’t need you becoming a prune before we’re back to the main facility.”

Bradford rolled his eyes as he swatted the tentacles away. “Five more minutes. And you’re enjoying the sauna.”

————————

Eventually, Bradford finished his shower, dried himself off, and put on some new clothes.

“Huh, made a place for my tail.” He mumbled as he examined his backside in the mirror, noticing the tailored hole for the tail. It was comfortable. He would keep it in mind for the changes that needed to happen to his wardrobe. 

As they headed back to the main chambers, Asaru merged back with him.

As he turned the corner, Bradford had to raise a hand to his face. The atmosphere was much brighter than before. It took a few seconds, but he saw the reason why. The curtains were open, and Jy-Sol was gazing at the immaculate snow-covered view outside the window.

As he came closer, he noticed her posture slightly shift. Just that ingrained programming and training that always had her ready for a threat. Not as light-footed as her.

“Nice view.” He said as he stood beside her.

“Mhm.” She nodded. She let her eyes linger a little longer before she looked at him. She gave him a quick look up and down, noting a faint wet sheen they clung to that light layer of fur. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “Ready to face the reaper.” Just a little jab at Maker.

Jy-Sol’s mouth twitched as she fought a grimace; she slowly bit her bottom lip. “I hope Maker is understanding… I miscalculated how long we would be gone… And then everything that happened….”

Bradford placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it. “We,” his eyes flashed blue, “make sure he understands.”

Her eyes darted away. It took a few seconds for her posture to relax. “Thank you.” 

“And the same with the crew,” Bradford remembered the other issue. A rough snort slipped out. “Corvo better have kept his trap shut…”

She raised a hand to stifle a laugh. “I believe he has, but you know how news quickly gets around. Your crew knows that we disappeared, but I believe they do not have the finer details. He and the other Senior staff have had their hands full.”

He left out a brief mhm. “That’s better than them knowing the details…” But he couldn’t help but think of the massive headache he was going to have to deal with once he was back on the Avenger.

Just as his mind was delving into the possible disciplinary actions that he and the other Senior staff would have to dispense, a faint tingle in the air and a hand on his shoulder made him snap to. He looked over to Jy-Sol. Her eyes were glowing.

“Well then, should we get going?” She asked as visible energy began to appear around them. He nodded.

With a mere thought, the two disappeared with a ping. The length of the trip was as quick as when she had whisked them there the evening before.

————————

Within a few moments and another ping, they appeared in the room that was Bradford’s current “home.” It was quiet, empty. The lights were fairly dim before the automated systems detected movement and slowly brightened the room.

Jy-Sol took her hand off his shoulder and stepped away. Just the faintest amount of dread crept over her suddenly as the room brightened and she felt shifts in the ambient psionic energy. Her eyes darted back and forth, ignoring Bradford and Asaru’s concerned questions on why she was moving away so suddenly. Just as she was pushing a thought to teleport back to her room, she found her pathways blocked.

“Oh no…” A faint, fearful whisper slipped out as her fingers arched. She flinched when she felt it before she heard it. A concentrated, crackling wave of power.

With a flash of red and purple, two distorted pings rang out near the entrance of the room. As the chaotic energy faded away, there was Maker with two of his shellbodies whose eyes were burning bright with power. Faint wisps of energy cascaded behind them, slowly taking shape of his true form.

Reflexively, Jy-Sol recoiled, bowing her head to avoid his eyes, as she could feel part of the judgement wicking away from her Master, but could not sense his thoughts. Leg muscles twitching, that in-built conditioning was yelling at her to kneel and bow her head in shame, but she knew Maker always hated that.

“Jynn…” Bradford whispered as he noticed her movements and could feel the fear striking at her heart in their bond.

Seems even this good Elder can terrify her… Asaru noted.

Bradford carefully eyed Maker before he found his body moving on its own to put himself between Jy-Sol and the Elder as soon as he saw Maker taking hasty steps towards them, before the hissed out questions with harsh, echoing inflections came out. The silhouette behind them shifting, bringing forth his spindly arms to make accusing gestures, did not help.

“Where have you been? What have you done?” Both of the shellbodies spoke in unison. It didn’t take long before they reached them. They circle them like hungry sharks — each going in an opposite direction — waiting for their prey to dash away from the protection of the whole.

Bradford’s throat trembled as a low growl slipped out. His eyes shifted back to Jy-Sol, who kept her head firmly bowed with wide, shaking eyes that matched the twitchiness of her body. He then looked back at Maker, focusing on one shellbody, trying to figure out the Elder’s emotions. He could tell the Elder was still annoyed from her meddling, but anything else, such as anger or wrath, he couldn’t properly pick up. The Elder’s damaged psionics made it nigh impossible for him and Asaru to reach out and read them.

“Jy-Sol.” Maker said, voice becoming more demanding. “An’xer me.”

There was only silence.

A sharp exhale left one shellbody as both stopped circling, meeting back at one point. “Do not make me utter the words.”

I think I know what he means by that. Asaru said to Bradford before flashing the memories pulled from Corvo concerning what happened while they were being treated. Though it was only the Chosen’s three personal guards affected by the words Maker uttered that day.

“She meant no harm.” Bradford quickly said as he noticed Maker open his mouth once more. He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m equally at fault.”

That mouth hung open for a moment before closing. A brow raised in return. Maker’s eyes narrowed as he began to scrutinize Bradford from head to toe, faintly probing the man.

Bradford winced as the probing was unrelenting. Pressing various points on his body and brain, rousing a few memories past his mental security blocks that the man would have wanted to keep to himself. The Elder rarely pushed past such boundaries, as he was constantly monitoring the Bradfords’ health, but this probing showed no gentleness or care for those boundaries.

It continued for an uncomfortable amount of time before Bradford pushed back when he felt Maker dig a little too deep concerning certain memories.

Maker was unfazed. The glow in his eyes dimmed just a fraction. 

“Equally?” Maker questioned, eying Jy-Sol again.

Bradford took in a deep breath and let out a harsh snort, where a little steam shot out. “Yes.” It was two-fold. He needed to calm himself as part of him wanted to strike out at the Elder. And then he was preparing himself for the Elder’s reaction if he was forced to tell the truth. 

Maker began pacing again, both bodies going their separate ways as they studied the two. It was just silence and footsteps before the shellbodies reached the same location and stopped.

One raised their pressed together hands to their mouth, as they took in a long, deep breath, before letting out an equally long and sharp hiss. 

“Now,” the one body started, “tell me, what happened?”

“Do not spare a single detail.” The other added.

Bradford bit the inside of his cheek. He glanced back at Jy-Sol. She was still petrified with fear, but he noticed her lips were pulled into a thin line. Tapping at their connection, it didn’t take much for him to pick up the panic mingling with all that fear.

Blindly reaching back, his hand searched around until it found hers. He gently grabbed it before tightening his grip when he felt her jerk away.

It’s okay. We won’t let him hurt you. He sent a message to her. She didn’t respond. That made him mentally sigh.

How much do you think I should tell him, Asaru? He asked his hidden companion for some assistance.

Just enough to paint the picture. And be truthful. I believe Jy-Sol’s fear is not unwarranted. Asaru responded.

“Secure this room. We don’t need any leaks.” Bradford said.

The shellbodies eyed each other for just a moment before looking back at him. Their eyes grew brighter for just a second. “Done.”

“Now,” Bradford let his voice trail off as he tried to figure out how to shift more of the blame to himself compared to Jy-Sol, “Jy-Sol meant no harm moving us to a more private setting to have a deeper chat. I’m to blame for how things went after our chat.” He mixed in some truth with a healthy helping of lies.

Just as the next set of words was about to leave his mouth, Maker abruptly cut him off.

“You two were intimate, yes?” One shellbody asked. “That sudden kiss and continued emotional turmoil were impossible to ignore that evening.” He then waved around a not-too-dismissive hand. “This includes the talk we had some days prior.”

The other let out a raspy laugh, throwing his head back. 

“Uh… uh…” Bradford’s mouth just hung open. It took a second for him to notice Jy-Sol was gripping his hand tightly before he gave a few reassuring squeezes. Before he could send a thought, Asaru did.

Seems like he may have figured things out besides what he saw during that probing. Asaru poked at Bradford’s and Jy-Sol’s brains. But I can’t tell if he’s masking his anger or not.

He—he’s not pleased. I… I know that without doubt. Jy-Sol sent a shaky reply. She had her doubts.

Calm down. Bradford gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. We won’t let him lay a finger on you.

You do not know what he is capable of… He can be like Them if he is pushed. Jy-Sol warned.

“Now.” Maker speaking snapped Bradford out of the mental chat. “I am annoyed… displeased… if that would be the choice word to describe my current set of thoughts, as I do not like for my delicate work to be disturbed before it is finalized.” Maker’s eyes narrowed for both shellbodies. 

“But,” the other shellbody spoke and raised a hand so swift it made Bradford take on a defensive stance, causing a few of Asaru’s tentacles to manifest. “I am… pleased Jy-Sol disturbed my work.”

Just as they were prepared for a torrent of energy to strike Jy-Sol, instead, confusion struck Bradford and Asaru, causing their defensive position to falter.

Pleased?  The two voiced mentally before Bradford looked at Jy-Sol. Her head had shifted ever so slightly to look at him. She was just as confused.

“Pleased?” Bradford repeated, this time out loud.

Both shellbodies grinned. One laughed. “My daughter continues to surprise me with her actions, breaking the bounds of the programming my Brethren had instilled in her long ago.” He explained. “Perhaps, not all aspects of her humanity were tampered with or stripped out. Perhaps, they are slowly resurfacing. Regenerating.”

One shellbody tapped at its lip as it looked around quizzically. “Now, was it her or you that suggested the intimacy? Hm?” Both bodies eyed the two.

Jy-Sol shrank behind Bradford even more.

Bradford’s body stiffened as his mouth opened. “Uh…” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell the truth or a lie.

After a few moments had passed, Maker made a dismissive wave. 

“It does not matter who proposed the idea. The deed is done.” He laughed. But as quickly as the laugh came, it stopped as both bodies narrowed their eyes. Energy began to radiate from their eyes, causing the ghostly silhouette of his true form to become more opaque. Shimmering like psionic fire, flakes of skin began to come off one shellbodies’ face.

“But to entertain such an idea…” Just a faint growl slipped out, which distorted his whispered voice. There was a spike in his power that made everyone flinch.

Here it comes… Jy-Sol thought as she prepared herself for that torrent of energy that was sure to strike her.

“Did you two not think of the lines you would be crossing with everything that is at stake!?” Maker chided them like they were unruly children. A few sparks of chaotic energy left his mouth, fading as quickly as it emerged, but nothing more.

He continued to chide, equally reaming both for throwing caution to the wind and for jumping to sex as a way to broach the complicated history between the two, or whatever that notion was supposed to help or solve for Bradford. He didn’t let either get a word in.

“To hang everything on a ludicrous if of an idea is madness.” He shook his head. “Especially for you,” he made a pointed jab at Bradford, “after the discussion we had the other day. Such… foolishness to attempt to solve an aching heart... You are lucky your comrade Corvo knows discretion. If the others of your group find out about this folly, it would be a disastrous, cascading fracture that would threaten the Resistance as a whole.”

Bradford pressed his tongue against his teeth. Maker had several points. Part of him wanted to go back in time and stop himself from entertaining the idea. Now, he was trying to think of what he wanted to say. He still didn’t want the Elder to know that Jy-Sol came up with the idea.

Damn my aching heart and new biology… Wait… yes, that!

Carefully with how you approach that. Asaru warned.

Bradford let out a snort. “Well, your delicate work has my brain clouded.”

Maker’s eyes flashed red as he raised a brow. “Explain.”

Bradford gestured to himself from head to toe.“Getting used to my new biology. Seems I have a higher libido than normal. A human normal.”

“Is that so?” Maker asked, there was a faint hint of doubt in his voice, though he recalled how that evening went. The glow in his eyes increased, but he did not probe.

Bradford was about to speak when a few thoughts and memories from Asaru came to his mind. Thanks, forgot he said that. Should knock that doubt out of him. “You said you noticed my emotional turmoil, correct?”

Maker’s nose wrinkled. “I did… Perhaps…”

One shellbody stepped forward and raised his hand slowly before releasing his power, letting several bands of energy travel over to Bradford. Bradford grunted as there were several pushes and pulls on his being.

“Perhaps… I… underestimated… how the core species would intermingle with your human DNA and play off of each other….” He spoke as his voice trailed off into a mumble. A few faint chides directed to himself slipped out, missing something like this. He rubbed his chin before he continued to mumble under his breath. Fingers tugged at his chin as he turned his head to the side. “I still have more to learn about the Akaraks, if it is possible…”

Recalling his powers, the shellbody took a step back. “I see I will have to make some tweaks before I can release you.”

“How are you currently feeling?” The other asked, before making a gesture towards Jy-Sol. “Especially towards her.”

Bradford glanced at Jy-Sol, who was still hiding behind him, but could feel less fear gripping her, before he looked back at Maker. 

Be truthful. Asaru poked his brain. The man rolled his eyes.

“Better. It… it’s more subdued now… but…” He looked back at Jy-Sol. Letting go of her hand, he raised his to touch her face, letting his fingers gently slide across those chitinous plates on her cheek. She flinched. He sighed.

 There was still disgust towards her being a Chosen, but that burning love for her was smothering the more vicious thoughts. Despite everything… she’s still in there, just buried deep. “I still have a passion burning for her. Both the old and new.”

“Hm.” Both shellbodies tapped at their lips. 

“Intriguing.” One body said.

“Dangerous.” The other added.

“It will be...,” one paused before they both began to speak in unison, “interesting to see how this will unfold and blossom. Reshaping the both of you. Or should I say trio?” A faint chuckle slipped out.

Bradford’s brow twitched. Jy-Sol choked before letting out a confused snort.

Is he… encouraging us to continue what he just spent a few minutes scolding us about? Bradford sent a thought to Jy-Sol.

I… I do not know. Jy-Sol was equally as baffled. She wanted to reach out to Maker to get a better read, but was still too afraid.

It seems he may be. Asaru joined. I’m… sensing… genuine intrigue from him mixed in with all of the disappointment and exasperation directed towards Jy-Sol. But… He paused for a long time. It seems like he wants Jy-Sol to continue down this ludicrous path to reconnect to her human self… If my interpretation is correct.

“What are you getting at, Maker?” Bradford asked, not holding back a growl of annoyance.

One shellbody inclined its head to the side as he folded his hands together. “I do enjoy being cryptic, but we both know you understood what I said, just fine.”

“And if I didn’t.”

Maker only laughed before tapping at the side of his head.

No point in trying to play dumb. Asaru said. Bradford only grumbled.

“You two understood just fine. But her.” Maker’s focus snapped back onto Jy-Sol like a targeting array. She flinched. “Do you understand, Jy-Sol?” He wanted to raise a hand — and with a swift gesture — move Bradford aside as if he was nothing. But he was allowing her that buffer. That hint of safety.

Bradford glanced back at her when he felt her flinch again. Her eyes were closed tight as her throat trembled. He grabbed her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze.

 I can talk for—

“I… I do not believe it would be wise to… extrapolate on… the dangerous gamble… that… happened.” Though her voice was wavy, Jy-Sol forced the words out, forced herself to step out from behind Bradford, but she did not meet Maker’s gaze. “I… let curiosity and hubris get the best of me, thinking that I could sate his carnal desire for a dream long lost.”

Jynn! Just a glint of concern flashed across his face as he picked up that she was blaming herself.

“The gamble… failed. As I strongly believe you have deciphered that due to…” Her voice trailed off to a mere whisper before picking up again. “Nothing was mended. Only more troublesome threads came unbound, rousing more… questionable,” and she shot Bradford an annoyed glance that made him raise a brow in turn, “feelings rise. Feelings that could endanger the Resistance…” Finally, she raised her head, slowly, to meet Maker’s gaze. “I am… sorry for my folly.”

“Mhm.” Maker nodded as he listened to her. “And that is all?”

“Yes.”

“Is that all?” He repeated, voices changing in pitched causing a thrumming echo to follow; his eyes glowed brighter. 

“Y-yes!”

Maker’s eyes became hooded. “Do not make me use the words. You are withholding important information.” The silhouette of his true form drew forth an arm and pointed at her. The lights in the room flickered as psionic energy crackled around the shellbodies, causing the face of one of them to deteriorate faster as glowing splinters cracked across its skin akin to shattering pottery. “A shift has occurred within your being as much as his. Breaking and loosing chains forced upon you. AN’XER ME. SPEAK. THE. TRUTH. CHILD.”

The fear that flashed across Jy-Sol’s face was brief. In an instant, she dropped to her knees and prostrated herself before Maker. 

Fearing the worst, Bradford was about to move, but found Asaru restraining him. Maker raised a hand in response, barely casting a glance at him.

Wait. Asaru said, though the slightly higher pitch in his voice gave away his worry. She did it of her own accord.

Jy-Sol’s voice trembled for but a moment before the words came out, with her speech being split between the Elders’ language, English, and a few other choice alien languages Maker preferred. It was like a rushing flood, barely sparing any details on how she felt when she had awoken the next day. The new and old. How they raged against each other. Far too many of the new feelings and memories were closely connected to the man behind her. It was all strange. It was all… frightening. If more splinters of who she once was came back, would she suffer like her brother Kon-Ris? How long before the conflict grew too much for her to bear?

The glow in Maker’s eyes dimmed as slowly as each measured exhale he took until there were mere glittering sparks of his powers in his void eyes. The energy flowing around him began to disperse, causing the visage of his true form to shift to a hazy, but still lingering state. Both shellbodies looked at each other before shaking their heads.

“Cotalo. So’gov no’vala. Ta Ish’vi Un.” Maker spoke. 

Keeping a hand raised and directed at Bradford, he approached Jy-Sol.  “You inflict more trouble upon yourself than you need to. Frakta… Frakta… Frakta…Vok’thrall’Uvs…” He cursed towards himself, before a sad laugh slipped out. “But you are my daughter… I have instilled too much of myself into you. A touch Hera’tius, my closest friend. And my mentor’s teachings.” 

Turning his hand over, he made a beckoning gesture. “Rise. Do not debase yourself before me, my child. I despise it.” He couldn’t hold back the hiss.

Hesitantly, Jy-Sol shifted to one knee before slowly returning to her full stature, but she kept her head bowed to avoid seeing his face. For a moment, she pulled back when she felt the mere trances of power touch the underside of her chin. 

“Raise your face to me.” Maker said with a faint, stern inflection.

She almost pulled back again when the sensation returned, but hearing the command made her hold still. 

Slowly, the force, Maker’s true form, made her lift her head. It tilted her head side to side. Maker studied her. Studied those eyes that avoided. Eyes that burned less and less with that purple taint of his fellow Elders. Less of that haughtiness and hate. Though there was a trembling fear — one that stung at his heart.

I cannot ignore the traits I share with the Others, even with the time I spent under the tutelage of my Mentor. Some habits are harder to expunge than others.

  But underneath that fear, there was hope and kindness. And they were burning, burning like that blue that was once her original Gift and connection to Asaru.

I wonder when this change truly took hold? Mere seeds were planted the day she encountered you two and, fortunately, both of you escaped her grasp… 

Maker looked over to Bradford. He wasn’t surprised the man had moved closer. He had a predator’s glare on him; fingers and tail twitching with the fan-like tip fully expanded. Fewer of Asaru’s tentacles were out, but the few that lingered were pulsing with energy.

Perhaps when you formulated that gambit of a plan? What side were you still leaning towards before you “fell from grace.” A gentle chuckle left his lips. I know the Others now wished They never entertained it. Ri’vi…  you are taking the brunt of the Others’ anger and fear, as you saw the “methods of the madness” Jy-Sol planned, but how could you have foreseen it cascading to this? I wonder…

His thoughts nearly consumed him with more treacheries he could spread across the Elder Collective, but more pressing matters made him refocus.

Maker let the lingering wisps of his true form tilt Jy-Sol’s head once more before he let go, recalling the ghostly hand back to himself, and it all faded away.

Maker took in a long breath before letting it out in equal measure. He took a step back, raising a hand to his face to check the damage done to it by his powers.

“A few more hours… for this one…” He mumbled, barely wincing as his finger types brushed against raw muscles. “The others…” He looked over to the other shellbody. 

That one tapped at its chest, holding back a grimace. “Likewise.”

Let me finish this. He focused on Jy-Sol.

“First, as much as you ask forgiveness from me, I ask it in kind to you.” He let out a sad sigh before running fingers through his hair. “As much as the Others like to pretend our Kind is above the emotions of humans and other ‘lesser beings,’ we have them, and it can easily overwhelm and blot out Our better senses.”

Both shellbodies then bowed, hanging their heads low. “And I asked the same of you, Bradford and Asaru.”

“Father…” Jy-Sol whispered, unsure of what to say.

He truly is different than the other Elders. Asaru nodded.

But his mood can be as turbulent as a storm... Bradford said. Despite the hint of doubt in his thoughts, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing and seeing.

“Though,” both shellbodies of Maker returned their previous postures, “I still hold a… tinge… of disappointment and irritation as I rambled before… But… I am pleased. I truly am.”

“H-how?” Jy-Sol cocked her head to the side. “How has my hubris pleased you?”

One shellbody grinned. “Sometimes, questionable methods are the needed key to discover a new path.” He raised a hand and twirled it around. “Will you continue down this path? I cannot say, nor can I direct it. It is up to you.” 

“Maker…”

Grin disappearing into a harsh frown, he then pointed a stern finger at her before shifting it to Bradford. “Though I strongly suggest neither of you entertain the intimacy any further, with all that is at stake. I do not believe for a second you could keep this secret from your comrades, besides such emotions blotting your better senses, AND it would be a horrendous way for you,” that aggressive finger jutted at Jy-Sol again, “to reawaken parts of yourself my Brethren tampered with.”

Jy-Sol flinched back at the gabs before bristling. A faint red tinged her face. His mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. Then she choked when she heard Asaru laughing in his shared bond with Bradford. 

Glancing back, she saw Bradford just as rattled as her, as his tail flicked around and smacked the floor.

“W-w-ell…” Bradford spoke before his voice faltered. He took a moment to clear his throat and a few more to get his tail under control. “We’ll see what we can do.” A gruff snort slipped out. The Elder had several good points, but there were some things he still wanted to explore. 

“But,” Bradford raised a finger, which made Maker raise a brow, “you’ll need to fix my libido first. If it stays like this…” He eyed Jy-Sol up and down. Part of him wanted to move over to her and touch her just to annoy the Elder. Too risky. And then Asaru was knocking at his brain not to do it. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

Maker let out a huff, not one entirely out of annoyance. “Right. That issue. It shouldn’t take too long to correct.” Raising his hand, with a ping, a blood-drawing device with several vials appeared in his hand. “Come,” he beckoned Bradford over, “let me take some samples that I can study. During your next check-up, I will have the solution.”

Bradford went over to him. It didn’t take long for Maker to take several draws and teleport them off to have one of his assistants start the process.

Bradford rubbed his arm before he took a few steps back from Maker. “Anything else?”

Maker snapped his fingers. “Though I am still not releasing you from my care, I suggest you get in touch with your comrades sometime soon.” He then pointed over to a desk and a tablet that rested on it. “You will be able to contact them on a secure network.”

“And you.” The other shellbody pointed at Jy-Sol. “I suggest you make yourself scarce if any of his friends pay a visit. Even though the one called Corvo has been deflecting doubts against you, I cannot guarantee he will be kind if he sees you again.”

Jy-Sol nodded. “I understand. I had no intentions of returning to XCOM’s ship until permission was given after my… stunt.”

For one shellbody, the eyes became hooded. For the other, it laughed. “At least you had and still have some sense before you threw it all away.”

Both shellbodies shook their heads. “Now, I will leave you two.” 

One looked at Bradford. “I will have one of my workers fetch you for your next check-up and test once I am done with my research.”

The other looked at Jy-Sol. “I suggest you return to your chambers… but,” he shrugged, “it is up to you.”

Not giving either a chance to speak, a flash of red and purple erupted around Maker, and with a ping he disappeared.

As soon as Maker was gone, Jy-Sol let out a heavy breath. Her legs trembled for a few seconds before they gave out, causing her to fall to her knees. Her lower arms pressed against the ground as her upper arms clasped at her chest. She took in several shaky, deep breaths.

Though things had ended much more positively than she had expected, it still rattled her.

It took her some time to notice Bradford had kneeled next to her. He had placed an arm around her shoulder. A few of Asaru’s tentacles gently wrapped around her chest — with Maker gone, the alien had separated himself from his host and was floating just behind them.

“You okay?” Bradford asked.

“Really?” Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “No! I am not!” But a tiny, nervous laugh slipped out of quivering lips.

“Sorry, heh, I had to ask.” He said. 

It took a few pulls before he pulled Jy-Sol into a hug. She did try pushing him away before something clicked in her brain to just accept it and let him wrap his arms around her. It was… comforting.

“Sorry… I caused us more headaches than we needed.” Bradford said.

Hearing that made her pull back. Her brows were furrowed. “I’m the one that suggest the sex!” 

“I could have rejected it and just stuck with talking.” He rolled his eyes. “And we really should have stuck with talking.”

“You should have.” Asaru tutted, waving a tentacle.

“Don’t start,” Bradford growled at him. Jy-Sol snorted.

They stayed like that for a little while longer before Jy-Sol began to pull away.

“I should go so you can… regather your thoughts and contact your allies,” Jy-Sol said. She felt Asaru’s tentacles unravel, but she found Bradford’s grip only grew stronger. Her brows knitted together as she found herself trying to pry his hands open, but they would not budge. “John, let me go.

“They can wait,” Bradford said. He tightened his grip, but swiftly softened it when he heard her hiss. “I… I want to talk.”

“Talk?” She questioned, but she glared. “Talk?”

He sighed. “Just talk. I promise!”

“He speaks the truth, though some lingering saucy thoughts are biting at his being,” Asaru said with a faint tease.

“Please…” Bradford groaned, not wanting to give those thoughts a hint of acknowledgement, for fear they would put him in a mood.

“I’m keeping them back the best I can,” Asaru said.

Jy-Sol kept a fierce glare as her eyes brightened in intensity. She probed their connection, probed Bradford’s mind and body. “Hm…” 

They both were being truthful. But those lingering carnal thoughts had her worried. He really was tempted to pounce on my joke of an offer when I brought him to the showers. May Maker help him during his next check-up.

The glow in her eyes softened, but the glare did not. 

“What is the topic of the conversation you wish to converse on?” She asked.

“You,” Bradford said.

“Me?”

“The human you. Jynn… The…” He looked away as he sighed. Guilt ate his heart. “Those conversations you had been trying to goad out of me since your defection...”

Her eyes lit up before they fell. “You… you do not have to do that so soon. Not after the trouble I have caused.”

“I want to. Please… I… Don’t want you to leave just yet.”

She inclined her head to the side. “So you have ulterior motives?”

“I learned from you.”

She snorted.

“So?”

She nodded. “I will stay for a few hours. Or until Maker forces me out. Or some of your men storm the facility trying to find you. I’d…” She drew out the word as she let her eyes wander before settling back on him, giving a playful smile. “Take the latter over the former.”

Bradford laughed. “Think I understand why just fine.” He did not want to see Maker for several hours. “Come on, let’s go over to the bed,” he released his grip on her and started to get up, “don’t want my legs falling asleep.”

“Would the chairs not suffice? I thought you didn’t want to entertain that?” Jy-Sol couldn’t help but tease. Bradford bristled. Asaru laughed. 

“His mind is lingering on that rather strongly for him to suggest the bed.” Asaru couldn’t help be pour more fuel on the fire. He even used a tentacle to catch Bradford’s tail before it struck Jy-Sol — who was already moving out of the way.

“Will you two stop that!” Some tinted steam shot out of Bradford’s mouth. “You are not helping me!”

“Apologies! Apologies!” Jy-Sol covered her mouth with a hand, failing to stifle the snicker slipping out. She got up. “You made it too easy not to pull at those strings and maybe…” 

With swift steps, far faster than Bradford was able to register, she was right on him, wrapping her arms around him. A set around his chest and the other wrapped around his hips. She drew her face dangerously close to his, causing him to pin his ears back. 

“Perhaps, from time to time, I can help you release some steam?” She gave one cheek a firm squeeze.

The man squeezed. His face flushed red. Steam began to trickle out of his nose, and some slipped from underneath his shirt. 

“Jy-Sol!” Asaru’s laughter became nervous. In a blink, he was right next to the two, but didn’t attempt to pry them apart. Several glowing tips encircled the two. “That may be a little too far!” 

“Jy-Sol… mercy… please.” Bradford didn’t move a muscle. A mixture of shock and fear, the slightest movement could set him off. He was fighting so many of his senses. His hearts were racing, heat was coursing through his body at an increasing rate, and he didn’t dare tap at their connection in fear she was being entirely serious.

Jy-Sol held Bradford like that for just a few minutes too long before, with a cackling laugh akin to a hyena’s, she released him and took a few steps back.

Bradford stumbled around before quickly finding his footing. He rubbed his chest, whispered to himself to get his bearings, and whispered to Asaru to get his bodily functions in control. The alien shifted all of his tentacles over to his host and was pushing and pulling away to get everything back under control.

Once he was mostly calm, he looked at her. “Please, don’t do that again. EVER.”

Jy-Sol smiled, squinting her eyes. “I make no promises. It’s an excellent tool to disarm you.”

For the love of… He hated his emotions. And he hated to admit, he kinda liked it. 

He gestured over to the chairs with his head before moving there with Asaru. She followed.

“So where do you want to start?” He asked as he sat down. “What were the questions you’ve been wanting to ask me for a long time?”

“Hm…” Jy-Sol mumbled as she sat down. She had to think. The most obvious one was the beginning. Or as close as the beginning, he could tell her of Jynn’s childhood. She shook her head. Another time for that. That’s too… personal. It may put him in a poor mood. 

“Jynn’s…” She paused. “My… My time leading XCOM…” It felt weird saying that, but it felt right. Perhaps I need to see myself as her more? Embrace that old name instead of ignoring it? “What was it like? Was I always the leader?”

Bradford raised a brow. He was expecting an entirely different question, but nodded. “Starting there…” He let out a huff as both good and bad memories came to his mind. “You did a damn good job leading with everything you and the Sub-Commanders had to deal with. The Council. Fighting on several fronts. Balancing budgets and research. Keeping the soldiers in line. The Elders fielding new units to continue their test…” They really could have ended us from the beginning with their tech and forces. It was a test, and we bit back too hard for their liking…  “Of course, you all had help, but it was endless. ”

He looked over to Asaru before he continued. “I think you may have been in some sort of pseudo-leadership role for some years before XCOM was fully reinitiated. My position was somewhat the same, as I was being transitioned away from my former station after being picked. It was still a shocker that you were my boss when we finally met face-to-face before everything kicked off.”

“She was.” Asaru nodded. “She and several other candidates were being tested as we were monitoring the increased activity from the initial scouting ships that had been in the Sol System for a few decades; those infiltrators were slowly appearing more, and then there were signs that something else was coming from outside the system at an alarming speed.”

“Hm, interesting.” She nodded along, listening carefully.

Jy-Sol continued to listen carefully, comparing anything with her dual set of memories and information she could pull from the Psionic Network. Though her true memories were still mostly distant from her, she had a few flashes that meshed together with the fragments, bringing them back together; it was enlightening. She was getting a better picture of her former human self, as well as XCOM and the Old World before the Elders’ tyrannical rule, and Bradford and Asaru.

The conversation went on for a few hours before Jy-Sol brought it to an end. She had a great deal of information to digest, and Bradford couldn’t put off contacting Corvo and the others any longer. Bradford was reluctant to end the conversation, as some weight was being lifted from his shoulder, and he just didn’t want her to go. 

Before she could leave, Bradford grabbed her hand with both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Despite Maker’s warnings…” His voice trailed off as he looked away, only to snort when Asaru smacked the back of his head with a few tentacles. “Maybe we can continue to test the waters?” Another loud thwack made him wince, but Asaru said nothing.

Her face was plain as she studied his, which showed far more emotion than he would have liked. “You still wish to entertain that and tread a dangerous edge? Repulsed and attracted to me?”

He looked away for a few seconds before looking back. “Yes.”

“Madness still grips your mind.”

He cracked a smirk. “I learned for you. Sometimes you need to take a dangerous gamble. And…” He didn’t release her hand as he got up and moved closer to her. He looked her up and down before he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “You’re still in there… It’ll take some time, but you’ll get your memories back and… blend into the new you.”

She expected the kiss, but didn’t pull back, didn’t flinch. She let him pull away before placing her other hands on top of the one gripping hers and squeezed it.

She shook her head. The madness I have unleashed. But she did smile. “Goodbye, John. We will talk again soon. Get some rest.” With a soft ping and flash of blue light, she left the two.

No answer.

Bradford sighed as he closed his eyes and let his head hang back.

“What am I thinking?” 

“With your emotions and dick more than your brain.” Asaru chided him and smacked his back with a few tentacles. The man yelped. He gave an exasperated sigh as he raised a hand to his bubble-membrane head and rubbed it. “I can’t wait until Maker fixes that.”

“I’ll still have the thoughts… just… less intense.” He admitted, rubbing his back. He felt like it would take decades for him to lose his love for Jynn and move on.

“I know! But that is better than nothing.” Asaru shook his head. “It doesn’t help that she is contemplating entertaining it.”

“She is? She didn’t say anything.”

“Felt it in our connection. It is very subtle since those emotions for her are nearly non-existent, but something is there that isn’t just her wanting to do it for your sake.”

“Huh…” 

“Now!” Asaru clasped both hands together as he reached a tentacle out and over to the tablet that was nearby. He quickly snatched it up and brought it back over, tossing it at Bradford. “Let’s make that call to the Avenger. I don’t want to imagine the hell Corvo and the others have been having to put up with.”

The tablet hit Bradford’s chest with a solid thud. It slipped, and he nearly missed catching it.

He just wanted to be angry. He just wanted to break something. He just wanted to kill one of the sources of his 20+ years of pain. What turned his life upside down and robbed him of so much.

But Maker wasn’t one of them. The Elder had been called in some years after the Earth was mostly subdued. A dangerous transfer that bore promising fruits. And he was different from the rest of his Brethren. So, so different…

Something Bradford didn’t want to acknowledge.

After another long sedative-induced sleep due to a semi-successful neck-breaking and skull smashing murder attempt by Bradford —when Maker applied some additional adjustments with small, diluted doses of that genetic panacea of a liquid mixed with Meld and applied something to his spine that would tweak and work out some issues he and Asaru had with their bond — the man had finally simmered down enough that he didn’t near-immediately teleport-lunge at Maker as soon as he sensed the Elder’s presence in the room they kept him in. That reduced a lot of stress, especially for Asaru.

He was still angry and warned the Elder to carefully choose his words. And he gave a strong warning that he shouldn’t let Jy-Sol come near him or he would attempt to kill her. Maker heeded his warnings. 

Even with the man in a tentatively calmer mood, Maker still kept a heavy security presence around at all times as the extensive health checks and tests began. His Enforcer units had proven themselves time and time again in wrangling Bradford, even when a few scuffles led to several broken bones and other heavy damage. They deserved a promotion later.

When Maker felt it was safe, he allowed visits from XCOM and whoever Corvo and the others thought could be of help and not a hindrance to Bradford’s mental state. Which was a mixed bag as the Senior staff was still trying to figure out how to break the news of Bradford’s new appearance. That caused a slew of problems once the news was given, which only increased due to what others said after being permitted to visit Bradford. 

Friendly faces helped the man’s continual sour mood and helped several of the health checks go more smoothly. Though a few individuals tested Bradford’s patience. Whether it be from excessive teasing, someone testing his senses or new appendages, or the man getting caught in a long-winded science-filled conversation as one of their scientists asked Maker a litany of questions concerning the finer details of the man’s hybridization; he wanted to have words with doctors Tygan and Tyler later.

Royce still hadn’t learned to keep his mouth shut concerning Bradford’s new features. 

“Looks like you’ll be getting your own set of bloody devil horns like that bellend Dhay-Vol, Johnny. Brilliant.” Royce snickered. He even brought his hands to his head and made horns with his fingers. “Hope they don’t make you as ornery as the raving lunatic.”

The comment was made when the nodules on Bradford’s forehead had started to show growth. They were growing out sideways and were looking to be broad, but flat.

Bradford answered the joke in kind with a thunderous tail whack to the man’s poor shins. The strike was so hard it echoed.

Royce gasped more than he yelled as he found himself curled up on the floor, vigorously rubbing his legs. Those who witnessed it laughed.

“Serves you right.” Laney, a close friend of Bradford’s, snickered at the man’s pain.

Bradford didn’t want to admit it yet, but it seemed some of his new features were going to come in handy.

————————

It took some time, but Asaru finally forced Bradford to face his inner demons. What he had been denying for months. They were finally in the presence of one being who could finally put this issue to rest.

“Yes, Jy-Sol is your former Commander, Jynn Gresham Reeves.” Raal’Maker said.

The Elder flinched as he felt a spike in Bradford’s psionic signature. A nearby Enforcer’s fingers twitched.

Bradford took in and let out several sharp breaths as his nails dug into his medical pants. His eyes were shut tight like a vice as his nose wrinkled and his lips twisted into a grimace. That tail flicked about sharply.

Straight from the source’s mouth. The one who worked on her extensively with care, compared to the Others. Asaru said.

“Shut up.” Bradford gruffly told his hidden friend. But he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Bradford grumbled some more as he rubbed his face. Countless thoughts were running through his mind. A few murderous thoughts formed, but Asaru swiftly crushed them.

Don’t you dare. His companion gave a faint warning. Maker didn’t need another dead body, nor did the Enforcers need broken bones. 

Bradford snorted as his fingers twitched. Part of him wanted to entertain it, but there were more pressing matters. Some thoughts needed answers.

“Why?” He asked.

Maker inclined his head to the side. “You need to be more specific. There are many ‘whys.’”

Bradford let out a snort. He rubbed his face once more before he let them drop and crossed his arms. He looked at Maker.

“Why did the Elders turn her into one of those damn Chosen?” That had been bothering him for the longest.

“Ah, that ‘why’.” Maker nodded. “Another tool to quell a troublesome Faction on the rise.” He started his explanation. “I am still unsure why They decided to retread the same steps that created the Hunter,” and he couldn’t help be hiss mentioning that, “but I believe They also wanted to entertain some sort of ‘poetic justice’ by having the former leader of XCOM, who gave Them so much trouble during that Invasion that doubled as a test, should be the same one to snuff out the resurgence of said Faction. She would know the ins and outs of how you all once functioned and would swiftly adapt to the new tactics you had been using to survive in the changed world.” He gestured all around him. “As she was already doing that while integrated into the Network.”

He then began to pace back and forth.

“And perhaps, They wished… to test a more mobile platform of the tactical side of the Network. Plans for future conquests. Future wars. All so dangerous. But, it worked with some hitches here and there.”

I have been curious about that. Asaru said. I have noticed, when we were once enemies, how the Troopers and other units that accompanied her would become dazed if her psionics were disrupted.

Maker nodded. “A minor flaw that I did the best I could to keep that disruption limited to her and not feed back into the greater Network.”

“That tactical side of the Network has barely slowed down since she joined us.” Bradford said. That doubt was entering his mind once more.

Maker let out an annoyed sigh. “Do you think my Brethren would not keep records of the many sorties she partook in, skirmishes They have her mentally oversee, and simulations They have her run?” He questioned. He didn’t wait for an answer. “A series of AI now handles her former occupation. There has been some degradation in the information it outputs, as it cannot match her skill. It is missing that human element and traces of you, Asaru.” A sly grin graced his face.

That makes sense. It would explain some strange information we’ve pulled from captured Captains and Network intrusions. Asaru said. To think remnants of my bond with her could cause such an impact… Reminds me of… Mosaic…

Bradford only grumbled as he searched for another “why” he could ask.

Bradford’s nose wrinkled as the next “why” was going to broach closely on those issues that tugged at his heart.

Why can’t that love of mine die? He questioned himself. Questioned that unhealthy love that fueled part of his obsessive search to find her first, compared to the other leaders of XCOM.

For some reason, especially now, it was burning brighter than ever, no matter how hard he tried to snuff it. 

“Why… More so… What did They do to her?” Bradford asked. “Her personality is so… different. And her memories…” He closed his eyes as a pained sigh escaped his lips. Nothing about how she acted was like the woman he once knew. “They’re a fragmented, altered mess.”

“You must break and remold your tools if they are to become useful. For them to be loyal.” Maker answered plainly.

Another energy spike was felt. An Enforcer shifted. Maker raised a hand.

Maker, your words. Asaru warned.

“I will not sugarcoat this subject.” The Elder rolled his eyes. “I sense both of you wish to know the whole truth.”

There was silence. It was enough of an answer for Maker.

“Like it has been done with the Converted Hybrids, and like it was done with Kon-Ris, my Brethren rifled through the memories of your Commander, finding and recording what was useful, altering what could cause potential problems, implanting new fabricated or stolen memories, and destroying what They deemed was unimportant to remold her into her new form and identity.”

“Did you have a hand in any of that?” Bradford asked. There was a faint growl in his voice, making it far more accusatory than what he aimed for.

“Not directly.” A sharp glare met Bradford. “They barred me as much as They could from that part of the conversion process due to my ‘excessive’ concerns about her health. But I fought to make sure the alterations didn’t run as deep as Kon-Ris’.” He soon hissed.

The Elder soon started to pace again and gesture with his hand, with the other firmly tucked behind his back.

“Alter her previous life and occupations, do not fully remove her from them. Alter how XCOM fell. Do not remove that existence. Fabricate new memories of the surrender, that ‘agreement to peace’.” 

Maker continued to ramble on about other memories, real and fabricated; he fought to have a great deal preserved and altered rather than outright removed. 

With each one he mentioned, more and more red energy flowed from his void-like eyes, overtaking the purple. Several pulsating veins appeared on his cheeks. A faint silhouette of his true form began to form just behind him. His helmet was more ornate than most Elders. A custom helmet that signified he came from a different sept and had risen to a high status. 

The upper part of the helmet was like an ornate brazier made of a lattice of stained glass, set between ridges of metal, with carefully inlaid sweeping metal strips. The top of it burned like a cauldron of fire, yet psionic energy was the fire; wisps flicking off of it. Going down, it was open like the more common helmet types, but was much wider and showed two faint glowing orbs pushed against the shadows.

“Create that lie,” as Maker hissed, a spark of his energy shot from his mouth like an angry whip, “she chose to work willingly for ADVENT after the world surrendered, after XCOM surrendered. Create that lie, that You All gifted,” a haughty scoff escaped him, “her that accursed new form due to her ‘loyal’ service.”

The Elder had to stop pacing and leaned against a nearby table as his eyes burned red hot. Roughly clearing his throat, his head swiftly turned, and he spat out a globule of blood. An Enforcer shifted, but a raised hand made them return to their position.

 “Anything…” He took in a sharp, shaky breath as he raised himself back up. Just a faint grunt slipped out as he shifted his shoulders. “Anything to make sure she was more stable than Kon-Ris for when she would eventually fall in combat and be healed anew, the altered memories would hold.”

That explains the questionable memories. Asaru said.

“But not the second set.” Bradford said. “The unaltered, but equally, if not more fragmented memories. You have an explanation for that?”

“I can only assume that comes from the drastic treatments I had to use when her health became questionable again.” Maker said. “The same I used for you two. Perhaps it restored what was altered and tossed? As nothing can truly be fully erased. Perhaps it preserved what my Brethren had yet not touched, obfuscating it so They would not find it? I do not know.” He shrugged. “I know They performed frequent memory checks and light alterations in fear she could become like her brother. I do not know how They did not discover that second set.”

“And how did you?” Bradford asked.

“I was oblivious to them for a long time, like my Brethren, and then I was barred per Our agreement that I would not touch her memories.” Make hissed. Maybe They knew something? “That was before a particular concern from Jy-Sol pushed my hand. She came to me in veiled confidence to scrutinize a particular memory she believed held a key to her current investigations against your Faction. That’s when I discovered the second set as I scratched through the fabricated layers of the first. I still don’t know why they are layered like that and how they came to be.”

“Hm.” Bradford wrinkled his nose. A dead end of an answer. 

How strange. We’ve only done limited probing due to someone’s issues. Asaru mentally jabbed at Bradford, which made the man scoff. But I wonder if a deeper probing could reveal why it is like that?

“That is something for you all to explore when all parties are on the same wavelength.” Something Maker gently encouraged.

“We’ll… We’ll think about it.” Bradford said gruffly. 

“Now, I have a question for you, John.” Maker said as he folded his hands together.

“You can call me Bradford.”

“I have a question for you, Bradford.” Maker repeated his statement with a faint smirk.

Smartass. Bradford rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“There is another side to that intense hate you have for Jy-Sol. It flows back to the human her. The Reeves. Something from the past that holds your very soul, your heart, in a vice grip. A grip that is at threat of faltering as the truths you have come to learn claw at its very foundations.”

“Cut the flowery language and get on with it.” Bradford growled. He felt like he knew exactly where the Elder was going. He could feel Asaru bracing parts of his mind.

“Very well.” Maker smiled a touch too wide. “The notion is a little foreign to me since my Kind has mostly burned it out of Our culture as it was viewed as a troublesome, useless emotion. Though a select few septs still practice such emotions and notions attached to it.”

“Maker.” Bradford’s patience was growing thin.

“Sorry, I like to ramble. Heh.” He softly laughed as he had a “captive” audience. He got a scowl in return. “You have feelings for her former human self, correct? Romantic in nature?”

Just a flit of blue energy coursed through Bradford’s eyes. His eyes darted to the side when he heard heavy equipment shift and that faint startup charge of a stun lance. 

Maker raised his hand before sharply dropping it.

Bradford took in a sharp breath before letting it out. “Yes.” He was thankful it was just him, Asaru, Maker, and a few of those Enforcers in the room. 

“Hm, mhm.” Maker nodded. “And these feelings are one of the many layers of why you keep Jy-Sol at arm’s length, correct? Why you have a particular anger towards her?”

A misplaced anger. Asaru added.

“Yes.” Bradford felt like he was in one of Dr. Veer’s therapy sessions.

Maker let out another brief mhm as he tugged on his current shellbody’s beard – a thick, wiry mess of white and brown hairs. “I believe I am developing a better picture concerning these conflicting feelings. I will not be able to assist you, as answering the pains in your heart is only something you can accomplish.”

Bradford only grumbled in response. Like he wanted his help. Like he needed another person interjecting their opinions concerning his lost love life. His friends were enough. Asaru was enough.

“Though,” he raised a finger, “I may be able to help in another aspect, yet what I may share with you could very well crush your heart.”

Bradford raised a brow. “What… what do you mean by that?”

“It is two-fold. One: She is not entirely the woman you long for in several multi-faceted aspects.” Maker raised his hands and began to shift them back and forth, making strange symbols. As he did so, his psionic energy released and took form, turning into several geometric shapes — pyramids, trapezohedrons, and many more. “Body, mind, soul broken, beaten, torn apart, used, abused, reshaped… Far too many times for any being to handle…”

Bradford winced at each word uttered and winced more when Asaru went to work quelling that anger that wanted to rise.

“So I cannot say how Jy-Sol would respond if you ever bring this up to her.” He made a few more shapes before letting the last dissipate away as he released like a dove. The energy cascaded into trailing wisps before it fully disappeared. 

“Two.” Maker closed his eyes tightly as his neck tightened, causing a few glowing veins to appear. A grimace of disgust crossed his face. “My Brethren always practice Their common standards on all Their slaves.”

Bradford had to keep from rolling his eyes with the first explanation after he finished wincing. He knew that all too well. Just another aspect that tore at his heart when he learned the truth he wanted to deny for so long. But the second made him raise a brow.

He can’t possibly mean sterilization? Bradford thought. XCOM had known that since the Invasion from the autopsies they had performed. How was that relevant?

Right… that. Asaru immediately got it. Bradford could sense it was something much deeper than what he was thinking. 

“Explain. The second part.” Bradford said.

“I have studied what bits of mankind’s history remain, what has not been destroyed. I’ve come to learn the Ancient Greeks had at least six different words to describe love.” Maker began his talk, if not a lecture, as if he were a professor. “Eros. I believe that intimate, sexual, passionate love is what bites at you. It is something my Kind looks down upon. Wishes to control in others. And We have forgotten in Ourselves.” 

The Elder shook his head. He still wondered at what time, at what part of his species history They took such a bleak path.

“Love is a weakness. Love is a waste. Love is a distraction. It must be ripped out. Erased. Destroyed. Or controlled.” He clinched his fist so tight that the tanned flesh turned pale. “We know what is best. We know how to better species and shape them.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips. 

Then it dropped to a lower, scoffing whisper. “Others will not fail to ascend as We did. Others will not be subject to impossible standards and sacrifices by loveless ‘higher beings’ or ‘gods’.” Oh, the hypocrisy made him laugh. He questioned that history. Was it true? Had They forgotten the truth? Or an elaborate lie to hide Their unsavory actions? How We have become what We sought to escape and hate with great fear. 

As his voice returned to its usual soft, whispered tone, it became bitingly sour. 

“You breed when We permit you breed. Bloodlines lived or died by Our blessed hands. Terrible hands. Everything has its selected, if not, narrowed purpose in Our designs of ‘perfection.’.” 

He took a moment to recompose himself, adjusting his suit and quickly checking for any signs of failure in the shellbody. Just a few psionic veins were pulsating brighter than usual. Otherwise, everything was fine.

“Jy-Sol was not exempt from this. Neither were her siblings. The ‘lusts of the flesh and mind’ would be a distraction. The Elders’ Children did not need that. They were Warriors first and foremost to carry out Their blessed will.” 

He looked away as his eyes narrowed and his lips tugged into a sad sneer. 

“That Eros was burned out completely. Sterilization was another unnecessary layer and more tweaks to their mental states to seal it all away. Additionally, a few other forms of love were also tampered with and seared to varying degrees. A partial Storge remained, yet it was solely directed to Them. They wanted Their children to love and praise Them unconditionally. Yet, there would be no sibling love.” Another scoff slipped out. 

“I still question why They encourage such heated rivalries to the point that the Chosen hated each other and it interfered with their designs to eliminate those Factions they were made to counter. Yet… yet… somehow Jy-Sol and Jax-Rai escaped such tensions and hate.” 

A rumor of a chuckle slipped from his lips. Their genuine friendship was a surprise, and his Brethren cautiously permitting it was another. 

“I can only assume that sliver of humanity I managed to preserve in her helped.”

Maker raised his hand and aimlessly twirled it around as he chided himself for getting off track.

“Where was I…? Yes, yes, yes…” He mumbled. “Eros.” He turned to face Bradford. 

His lips pulled into a thin line as he could see his words were not sitting well with the man, as he noticed the corners of the man’s lips twitched. There were also faint twinkles in the corners of all his eyes.

“Now, she and her siblings are not fully oblivious to the concepts, as such things can be used against your kind and the slave races to induce fear and keep them in line, whether those who live within the gilded cities or those out in the wilds. But they cannot feel it and understand it for themselves.”

He sadly shook his head. 

“So, Jy-Sol would not be able to properly reciprocate such feelings to you if she ever regained her lost self or… if… ever period… Without heavy reconditioning. So, I cannot say how she would react if you told her you still longed for her former human self.”

Bradford kept his focus on Maker for a while longer before he broke eye contact and dropped his head. He raised a hand to face and began to rub it and chase away those tears that wanted to form. Faint patters hit the floor. 

It was a lot to take in. There was a lot he didn’t want to hear.

She’s alive and dead. Part of his mind trekked back to the negative. 

It was a strange, twisted truth he wished wasn’t true. The woman he loved, the woman he longed for, was alive and changed. But that change also killed her.

“Damnit.” He cursed under his breath. Why couldn’t that love die long ago? Why couldn’t it die right here and right now? His heart just ached more.

John… Asaru poked at his mind.

Let me stew. Bradford said. 

Not too deeply now. We don’t need a repeat of your outburst days ago. Maker doesn’t need another broken neck. And I would rather not endure another shocking knockout. 

He let out a throaty growl. Part of him wanted to do that again, though his anger was misplaced. “Thank you, Maker…. I’d like to be left alone now.”

Maker nodded. “Very well. I will give you a few hours before we have another round of tests.”

With a flicker of purple and red in his eyes, the Enforcers nodded and marched towards the exit.

“Call if either of you needs anything.” Maker said one last thing before he left.

Once he was alone, Bradford reclined on his bed and aimlessly stared at the ceiling. That tail of his flicked back and forth, occasionally twitching around its tip.

“Why do I still have these feelings?” Placing a hand on his chest, his nails dug in as he clutched at his heart. “Why didn’t I let them die and let Mena take her place back then?”

Another woman came to his mind. One, he had surprisingly grown close to some years ago, which eventually led to a bit of a fling when he slipped into a terrible, depressive, and self-destructive mood due to terrible findings concerning one of the Sub-Commanders, and it was coming around to that time of the year when XCOM fell. It was messy. He was still surprised that things ended on good terms.

A faint blue glow shone around him. A second later, Asaru emerged from his being and hovered just above him with his legs crossed. His semi-translucent body had a healthy, shiny glow to it.

“The heart can be fickle.” The alien said, plainly. “I’ve seen and lived it many times with my previous hosts. You are no exception.”

Bradford only groaned in annoyance. Something the alien liked to remind him of from time to time. 

“Though Maker believes aspects of love have been burned out of Jy-Sol, I don’t entirely believe that.”

Bradford shot him a questioning look. “Elaborate.”

“Excluding her Watchers and the defected Proxies…” He knew she had true affection for them, but there was some hidden programming mixed in that muddled some aspects. “The time she has spent with us… Though I can’t say how the Eros aspect has been affected, she has picked up a particular fondness and affection for a few personnel who don’t hate her and have formed a mutual respect towards her. Aaaand…” He let the word drag out. His skull shifted from side to side as he thought of what words to choose next. “Truthfully… I believe she knows of the love you have for the old her. Has known for a long time.”

Bradford shot up as straight as a stick, nearly smashing his head into Asaru’s legs if the alien hadn’t moved in time.

“Elaborate. Right. Now.” Bradford said. His brows were furrowed as barely restrained fire burned in his eyes.

A few sparks went off in the membrane bubble that was Asaru’s head. His skull jittered back and forth, as well as his tentacles. 

Shifting positions, Asaru drew himself to Bradford until his head was mere inches away from the man’s face. 

Bradford didn’t pull back. His ears flattened as his eyes narrowed. All that jittering told him Asaru was silently laughing; he could faintly feel it.

“You,” raising a finger, Asaru tapped on the side of Bradford’s head, “have let that bitter, bitter side of you cloud your mind and ignore my observations.”

Bradford let out a growled snort. It wasn’t a threat. “You were also skeptical of her ‘defection.’”

“It was a fraction compared to your avalanche of hate.” The alien tutted. “Through monitoring her actions and those careful interrogations before you,” that offending finger poked harder, making Bradford wince, “went too far, I noticed some things. Speaking of that interrogation…”

Asaru poked the man’s head a few more times before he flattened his hand against the side of his face and brought up another to do the same on the other side of his face. For his lower arms, he rested his hands against the man’s chest.

A few sparks fired off in Asaru’s head before his soft blue aura glowed brighter.

Bradford froze as he felt their connection intensify. He felt several tugs on his mind before something buried deep in his memories unraveled and rushed to the surface. He froze in shock as he felt uncomfortable emotions rise along with what was unleashed. His eyes blinked against his will, blinked to get rid of tears that were already running down his face.

No… It only took a second for Bradford to realize what his companion was about to do.

“No!” Bradford threw his hands forward desperately against Asaru’s chest to try to push him away. The tail even swung around and whacked the alien’s side. The Ethereal barely budged.

“Shh.” Asaru gently hushed him as he pushed the man down. A few tentacles quickly subdued the tail. “You’ve been avoiding this again for a long time. Tried your best to ignore them with our strange treatment. So, let’s revisit that interrogation, that day, that depressive month, and all those messy, messy memories.”

“No… Please…” Bradford whimpered out a pitiful plea. If he could have turned his head away, he would have. “Don’t do this to me… I-I… I can’t…”  He felt that twisting, nauseating vice grip his stomach. The weight of all those depressing years, before and after he rejoined XCOM, crashed against his chest and clawed at his mind. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Asaru gently encouraged him. “You are stronger than you think. Now, don’t resist.”

————————

Memories. Countless memories were being dredged up by Asaru. Memories Bradford didn’t want to see, and for some, he wanted to be blotted out. 

Some were more lively than others, recounting the good and the bad days. Others were blurred, naturally forgotten due to time, age, and alcohol abuse. And others were locked away and clouded over, wishing that they could be forgotten forever. 

Why did I never tell her when we were in high school? Why didn’t I tell her in those letters and emails years later? Why didn’t I tell her after her grandfather’s funeral? Why didn’t I ignore regulations and just tell her when we met again?

A few memories of his high school years came to his mind first. How he became friends with Jynn’s brother, Charles, before her little brother introduced him to Jynn. How they became a close-knit group, and it eventually extended to their respective families. 

Sometimes, Bradford questioned why he didn’t tell Jynn back then. Her brother figured it out pretty quickly and relentlessly teased him about the crush, but never said a thing to his sister out of respect.

Even when they parted ways after high school, he still had his chances to tell her, but never did. And when they met face-to-face again by sheer chance, she was his boss. Rules and regulations needed to be followed. He wasn’t going to chance either of their positions with a confession, and it was already a pain to convince the Council that nothing was going on between the two once their previous friendship history was learned. Well, he tried his best. 

A rumor about him and the Commander being “overly close” was started by some grunts and just refused to die. Jynn was annoyed but ignored it. Typical nonsense she expected to deal with in her position. Bradford did mostly the same until one grunt pushed too far post a mission debriefing, and for some of the higher-ranking staff, it looked like there was a fraction of truth to the rumor. At least they had enough sense not to pry too much or just treated it as a joke, much to Bradford’s annoyance.

But occasionally back then, and sometimes now, his mind would think of a few hypothetical scenarios of what would have happened if he had told her. The positives came first. Would she hear him out? Would they play a dangerous game and keep things under the table? Or would they wait until the war was won? If that was even a possibility…

But sometimes his mind would plague him with the negatives, especially now. She would ignore and dismiss him back to his duties, as if the conversation never happened. She would be disgusted and chew him out. She would swiftly reassign him to another base. Or she would strip him of his position and dismiss him from XCOM entirely.

Back then, he would never get a chance to toy with the idea.

I should have told her before that day…

The day the world truly went to hell. The XCOM bases were being overrun. He saw so many friends and colleagues turn on each other, kill each other, and those aliens destroyed so much more. And then his old friend, his best friend, was captured before his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop that. All he could do was save himself and anyone he ran across. Then those countless years of hiding began.

Those old memories he kept locked away in secure vaults were tearing at Bradford. Bitterly tearing at his heart. He hated them. Hated them so much. They were the start of the worst years of his life. How he let despair, bitterness, and anger shape him as he did what he needed to survive and be a thorn to the world’s new overlords. The little crew he slowly came to amass over the years didn’t help until he came across a few XCOM survivors, who knocked some of that cynicism out of him when they joined. But it wasn’t enough. It took meeting a proper crew of the emerging XCOM and that radio call from the late Dr. Shen to revitalize his old self and some hope in his heart to get him truly fighting again. 

Rejoining came with its own headaches. It didn’t take long for him to get shoved into that role of leader to be the Commander; it didn’t feel right to him, even more so when it was discussed only to those that needed to know at the time, there was a chance that Jynn Gresham Reeves and the Sub-Commanders below her were alive and captured. But there main focus was for Jynn, even more so when Bradford told them he could clearly recall even with her mind being attacked like so many others, she was trying to get the situation back under control and it was working before that new model Muton beelined for her, viciously knocked her out, before tossing her over its shoulder and quickly made its escape. He still wished he could have done something to stop that. Anything. 

Then those terrible nightmares began, not too long after the search for the Commander truly began. Several he didn’t share with anyone until he was forced to do so, as sleep deprivation was getting to him and he was on a whole different level of crabbiness that put their usual skeptical and cynical crew members to shame. But he kept certain nightmares to himself for a long time, ones that shifted, almost as if they were updating in real time. They stayed close to his chest until Dr. Veer joined the crew and learned of it. Only then did he share it with a select few others, and he had them swear to secrecy about it. Eventually, he had to have a close Templar contact lock them away so he could function without having his sleep disturbed so often. 

“Find me.” Damn it. Why? Why? Was I truly getting glimpses of what happened to her over the years?

There was something wrong about those nightmares. They were too real. Too vivid. It took some years for him to get the answers to why he was having those shifting nightmares and why they would increase in intensity from time to time, in different regions across the world. Asaru. 

He nearly throttled his blue companion a month after their fateful meeting when they finally had time to discuss in more detail who the alien was, why he was bonded to the Commander, why they split, and what he had been doing over the years, avoiding the ever-hounding eye of the Elders. The alien had apologized before when they first met, and he lightly explained things, and once again when more details were shared. Asaru wasn’t entirely sure why Bradford got the brunt of his calling out for anyone he had planted subconscious psionic seeds to better keep tabs on XCOM’s members and soldiers around the base and beyond, but quickly theorized that since he was more or less the Commander and Sub-Commanders right hand, he had a stronger connection than most.

The nightmares were more like terrible visions. Glimpses of the horrible tortures she suffered under the Elders as Their puppet… and now we know the conclusion to her unfortunate capture. 

Bradford’s mind still didn’t want to accept the truth that was laid before him countless times over the months. Even more so now under the care of Elder Raal’Maker. He just didn’t. His heart didn’t. It was just too much. 

You need to learn how to accept the truth. Asura’s voice echoed in Bradford’s mind. What you do next after that is up to you, but for our bond to function and for us to do our duty, you must overcome this. I do not want a repeat of previous hosts when we began to disagree, whether known or unknown. I don’t want a repeat of what happened with my first, though the circumstances of our bond were quite different; his past and the tragedies he suffered shaped his character. 

The first host. The unwitting host. Bradford knew exactly who Asaru was speaking of. William Carter. He had seen their memories. A hard-working agent, but a terribly self-destructive man due to the tragedies he suffered. Tragedies tied to the current time period and circumstances with the Zudjari invading the Earth, nearly cost the world greatly. 

Asaru barely held any animosity toward the man now. So much had happened. And Asaru had no clue who he was himself until he met another like him. He just wished Carter hadn’t killed Shamash as the truth was unfolding, and he was just about to convince Shamash that her plan was unsound. And he could have learned so much of her about what their kind was.

Bradford didn’t entirely blame Carter for his actions. In a way, he saw a reflection of himself. In those dark, depressive years, he teetered back and forth between wanting to give up and live some sad, meager life hiding every day for survival or end it all – whether it be in some blaze of glory, drinking more than his usual share of alcohol and popping some pills of questionable origin, or kissing that trusty shotgun he used for so long. 

Sometimes he wondered where he would be if he didn’t have the dysfunctional crew he led and the few fellow survivors that joined him. Where he would be if he hadn’t crossed paths with XCOM and that new blood, and if his fellow survivors hadn’t convinced him to track them down after he initially dismissed them. Where he would be if he hadn’t crossed paths, missed that radio call those new XCOM members were answering, and he heard that old, old voice of the late Dr. Shen. Where he would be if he weren’t greeted with familiar faces when they went from safe house to safe house until they reached the Avenger. That day was something else. He felt like he was dreaming when he saw the late Dr. Shen again and so many others. 

And where would I be if we hadn’t crossed paths with Asaru?

The thought crossed his mind as well as the memory. He was already in a poor mood that month, as that one horrible nightmare that should have been locked away was plaguing him again. And then that short projection of a vision he saw that caused him pain. If he hadn’t reluctantly let their Templar allies take a look at his mind after that, they would have missed Asaru. 

Still wonder if Geist’s choice of me being Asaru’s host was right… But he’s helped me so much. 

The initial few weeks to months of his and Asaru’s bond were rough. They were still getting used to each other’s habits and Asaru’s damage, which required them to split ever so often so he could rest in an elerium gas-filled tank or temporarily bond with their resident Templars. Then Bradford didn’t care to listen to Asaru from time to time regarding his health, whether it be some brash actions out on the field or the drinking habit he would occasionally give into, until one bad op got him considering his wellbeing – both physically and mentally – since he was more or less the Commander for XCOM until they found Jynn or the others. 

And then you finally helped kick that drinking habit… Mostly. You and Mena, after those rough series of months, after that find…

He didn’t like to think about what was found in the old Nigerian base. Destruction that made his mind bleed back to the fall of the Main HQ in America. There were so many decayed and mummified bodies. So much dried blood. So much blood around torn scraps of a once pristine uniform and a bloodied name plate. Seaver. Thaddeus Seaver. Another close friend he made when they met for joint training operations. 

Scans couldn’t find a trace of the man’s body in the destroyed base. But with the amount of blood they found, things were looking bleak. Combining that news with another promising search for Jynn turned bitterly sour, and it was coming around that time of the year XCOM fell, put Bradford in a horrible mood that Asaru barely could shake. 

It was a dangerous gambit, but getting off the Avenger for some months with a carefully selected crew of operatives to do some intensive quid pro quo work for the Void Walkers helped the man’s mood. Slowly. There were a few times Asaru and another had to fight to keep Bradford away from the bottle, and the man managed to give himself alcohol poisoning more than once during that time. Things grew worse again when they ended up back in America. Part of him wanted to visit the old Base, and another part loathed the idea and won out. That put him in another tailspin that just about reached its destructive crescendo. 

Sometimes… I wonder if we didn’t have to do business around that part of Florida, would we have run into that old Haven we helped those Skirmishers relocate? Would I still be in that self-destructive bent? Worse than I am now? Or… dead?

That old Haven had familiar friends and faces, and those Skirmishers were still around; they were another warm welcome. XCOM and the Void Walkers made it their temporary base of operations as they did work in the region. It was a nice home away from home to regain their strength and decompress. 

Still can’t believe Mena and I hit it off. Wish I had handled that better. I was a mess. She was too sweet for me. 

Love was the last thing he thought he’d find out there, especially with his current mood. He wasn’t looking for it. Truthfully, he was rather heartbroken because the lead for Jynn caused them to discover something completely unexpected and terrible, but still no leads on where the aliens were keeping her or her current condition. But something sparked between him and Mena. Something short and messy that got him considering quitting and leaving XCOM to just live at that Haven. He got into a rather drunken argument with Asaru one night. Asaru didn’t care which way his heart went as he was not about to lose his best compatible host, who also had the brains to lead XCOM. 

Mena overheard us… that was a mess. The following talk and heart-to-heart was worse… for me. Damn it. She was too sweet for me. 

He could barely remember a thing due to how drunk he was, but Mena consoled him. The next few days were also a blur as he recovered pitifully hungover in a bed and had to suffer Asaru and a close friend chewing him out again. Yet, that heart-to-heart conversation got the gears properly turning in his head again. Got his mind back on track. He had to end things. 

Still can’t believe things ended well. I think she sensed things wouldn’t last with my issues and my… my love for Jynn. That was always in the background, even after what we found broke me and made me lose hope.

Bradford considered himself beyond lucky that everything ended on a positive note. It should have ended so much worse. The tumultuous time was the odd kick in the pants that set his head straight and got him taking his role as the de facto leader more seriously, with all searches for the Commander and Sub-Commanders turning up nil or looking grim for certain ones. 

Mena… she was far too kind. Too damn sweet. Listened to me vent so much. Listened to my rants. And those more personal stories about my high school days when I was out of it… Damn it. Why didn’t I tell Jynn back then? Why is she the nail in my heart that refuses to budge? Mena barely chipped at it… Damn it. Why? Why did we have to find Jynn like this?

That thorn of a memory came around. That truth he had been trying to deny for the longest. The Chosen Tactician, Jy-Sol. 

Her. Why? Why? Why? What that? I’d rather find her dissected like some sort of animal over this.

He wanted to deny the extensive DNA scans. He wanted to deny those dangerous Network intrusions they had to do at a high-security data vault, and those interrogations they performed on Jy-Sol with the assistance of the Templars. Those damn interrogations and the memories they revealed. Especially that second set. Delving deeper into those broke him again. 

How long do those bastards torture her day and night with those relentless intrusions to rifle through her memories? She tried her best to fight, but damn… Those Elders personally handled those interrogations after one incident… And then those damn surgeries. So many surgeries to rob her of herself… to make her a pawn.

Many of the memories were disjointed and nearly impossible to follow, but they gleaned just enough to piece together the unimaginable horror Jynn suffered for years before and after she was chipped to run the tactical side of the Psionic Network. Bradford still questioned if it wasn’t the Elders’ partial carelessness in how They handled Jynn that wasn’t the true cause of her deteriorating state, and not her violent separation from Asaru. Asaru said both were most likely compounded to make Jynn’s health deterioration worse. 

And then that choice to Ascend her into a Chosen, all because XCOM had reared its ugly little head when it should have stayed dead, and was actually becoming a concern compared to the other Factions. Factions that hated each other were now collaborating. More Resistance Cells were popping up across the globe. Once, loyal citizens were leaving those golden Cities for the backwater, uncontrolled wastes. And rumors were floating about that XCOM was searching for their former leaders, especially the head. Certain Network intrusions and kidnappings of high-ranking personnel supported that. The Elders couldn’t let this continue. 

She got turned into one of those things because of us. Because of us… Because of me…

As much as he loathed Jy-Sol, he aimed a great deal of it inwards. Would Jynn still have been human if XCOM hadn’t been making strides to get the Resistance going properly? Could they have found her unchanged but damaged by everything the Elders performed on her? It was a thought that constantly ate at him. 

Because of us… of me… The woman I once knew is… gone. It’s a long shot she’ll ever recover her true memories. Like her body… Tch… It’s as lost as mine is now. She’ll never get them back. But the impossible has happened…

He was torn if he wanted Jy-Sol to regain her memories or let them stay lost to her forever. He had seen what happened to those Converted Hybrid that were unlucky enough to have fragments come back to them. Terrible ghosts of the past that ate at the weaker-willed ones until it drove them mad from having two identities crammed in one skull that conflicted severely with each other. Would that happen to Jy-Sol? The hateful side of him wanted her to suffer. The side that longed for his old friend didn’t want her to. And the part of him that loved her wanted them to return so he could finally confess to her. 

Should… should I? I wonder… that old nightmare of a vision. I got to tell that part of her my feelings…

A crazy idea was forming in his mind even before the talk with Maker. There was just a part of his brain nagging for him to finally tell her his feelings, to get it out of his system. Maybe that would finally put that love to rest and give him some closure since she wouldn’t be able to reciprocate, according to Maker. But what Asaru said had him curious.

But what if she… FUCK NO. What am I thinking!? I can’t be seriously entertaining that?

Or more concerned, as part of his mind was being flooded with thoughts entertaining the idea that there was a chance, just a sliver of a chance, that there was enough of Jynn still in here to properly understand and reciprocate his feelings. And if she could…

No, no, no, no. 

Just toying with the idea was rousing strange feelings within him, especially a heat that was currently building in his chest, that he was all too quick to blame on his new biology, which was still being tweaked. 

I am not attracted to that Chosen!

He was quick to deny the feelings. Quick to separate Jynn from Jy-Sol. They were different people. Entirely two different people. There was no trace of Jynn left in that Chosen. He wanted that to be true so badly. 

Some of Jynn peaks through Jy-Sol from time to time. You can’t ignore that forever. Asura’s voice poked at Bradford’s mind again. Bradford cursed at him. She did save us when she could have easily handed us over to the Elders. 

He couldn’t ignore the truth. He couldn’t deny that certain mannerisms and actions the Chosen performed were just like the old her. And he couldn’t deny that it seemed like some of Jy-Sol’s old memories were reforming in spite of his lack of cooperation, which Jy-Sol sought to discuss the past. So maybe… Just maybe…

Ugh… Tch… Damn it. Asaru, I get the point you’re trying to make. We are done here. NOW.

————————

It felt like forever before Asaru pulled Bradford out of the forced memory dive.

Bradford blinked several times as his mind came back to reality. Blinked several times to chase away the freely flowing tears. His hands quickly went up to his face and began to rub it, to make those tears go away. 

“How are you feeling?” Asaru asked. There was the faintest hint of a tease trailing his words. He was still hovering over Bradford with his head nearly pressed against the man’s face. 

“Fuck you.” Bradford said, voice partially muffled by his hands. Asaru only laughed.

Bradford vigorously rubbed his face for several minutes, which was interspersed with a lot of curses and empty threats aimed at his blue friend, before he finally dragged his nails down his face, slowly pulling at his features. He let out one last expletive before his hand dropped to his side.

His eyes narrowed as Asaru was still touching his head with his hands. His eyes darted over to his tail. It was still tightly wrapped by Asaru’s tentacles and twitching.

“Nice try.” Asaru said. He withdrew slightly so he could waggle a tentacle in his face.

 “I hate you.” Bradford growled.

“Only temporarily.” Asaru said, waggling that tentacle again as if it were a sassing finger. “But you very much needed this forced session. I can sense a few shifts in your being. Just a faint hint of acceptance… correct?”

A throaty growl came from Bradford. He closed his eyes tight before he let out a gruff snort. 

“Something like that.” The man winced when he felt a few pokes to the side of his head.

“That is a start. But needs to be better. We need to have a chat with Jy-Sol sometime soon.” Asaru said.

He flared his nostrils, and a little steam seeped out. “You can’t be—”

A tentacle pressed against his mouth, silencing him.

“We, us three, need to talk. You need to apologize for your brash, paranoid, heartbroken assumptions.” Asaru said. Bradford rolled his eyes, but a faint pull at his mouth and how he avoided eye contact with Asaru showed some guilt. “And we need to talk about how things will go forward concerning several aspects.”

“You want her to stay?” Bradford could sense that.

Asaru nodded. “It’s better to keep her close than far away. She knows some of the inner workings of ADVENT and the Elders’ minds that we are still struggling to decipher. And I still wish to take a crack at her mind to dig through her memories and piece them together.”

Bradford let a faint mhm.

“And for you,” Asaru poked at Bradford’s head, “you need to put your demons to rest before they get the best of you and me. I would rather not die or have to kill you.” And he wouldn’t hesitate to do so if Bradford finally lost it. He had done it before. “I do not want to search for a compatible host.” 

Asaru drew two tentacles up and over his head and positioned them at an angle in such a way as to make them look like furrowed eyebrows. They stayed like that for a few seconds before he withdrew them. 

Asaru slowly drifted over to Bradford’s side and finally sat down on the bed. He didn’t let go of that tail as it had a particular pull to it that told him he’d get a whack to the face as soon as it was free. 

“I know I can’t force your hand on what you should do, but this needs to be taken care of before we are released from this place.” Asaru said. 

The man closed his eyes tightly. He knew exactly what his companion was implying.

He could feel that strange heat rise in his chest and creep up his neck. There was the faint rustle and clicking of metal as the scale mane bristled and fluffed out. The tip of his tail subtly twitched even as it was restrained. 

Many thoughts were going through his mind. Several were salacious in nature that he had to control from time to time, as he longed for a past that never came to be. But now, they were focusing on the changed Jynn, the Jy-Sol. 

Ever since she had joined their side, he had never seen her fully remove her armor. It took some months before she removed some of her gear and layers of armor. She only ever stripped down to under-armor when in her room resting. She didn’t even do that for their doctors. She refused all health checks, even when an encounter on the field against her siblings left her at death’s door. She would sequester herself to her room, let S’Norri take care of what she could, and then would let her psionics heal the rest, usually putting herself into a deep, meditative sleep for some days.

Just what does she look like under all that armor? More human or more alien? 

The errant thought entered his mind. One he did not want to entertain, but it ran with it against his will. Just what did she look like? Did she share any more traits her cruel Masters had? He wasn’t sure he could remember what one of those things looked like since it had been over 20 years since XCOM successfully captured one, if not two.  He faintly remembered they were thin, spindly. They had old, wrinkled, taut skin that emphasized their physical fragility, even more so how their skin stretched across their emphasized breastbone, and their craniums seemed split towards the sides and back revealing the glowing orange mass within. None of the Chosen shared those traits, minus some gauntness in the face.

Better question is if the Elders’ current form is the same as what They originally looked like. Faintly recall our science teams pulled some cranium psi-enhancing implants from the one we finished interrogating. They may ‘enhance” Themselves as much as They practice it on other species…

His mind drifted to the odd chitinous plating that ran across the Chosens’ cheekbones. Did any other parts of their body share that?

What does she look like under it all? Human or more alien?

His mind came back around to that errant thought, and before he knew it, he was undressing Jy-Sol in his mind, layer by layer… by his own hands. Tender hands and gentle lips explored every inch of her transformed body. And she was enjoying it.

His breathing hitched. Red rushed to his cheeks. Body bristling in disgust, his nails tore into the gurney sheets.

Fuck no! Stop! Back to what Asaru said.

He opened his mouth, but only a hoarse squeak came out. Snapping it shut, he raised a hand to his neck and rubbed it. It took him vigorously rubbing it and clearing his throat a few times before he could push out any words.

“Do you… Do you think… she’ll be able to understand?” Bradford asked.

Asaru shrugged. “I cannot say. I suspect she knows and has been faintly playing that angle to try to get conversations out of you, but you have been stubbornly stalwart.”

Bradford grumbled. More so at himself, as his companion was right about his stubbornness. It caused a lot of trouble that interfered with them leading XCOM.

To his annoyance and dismay, those explicit thoughts were still plaguing his mind and pulling at his aching heart. Another question came to his mind.

“Do you…” His voice slipped to a near whisper. He wordlessly let his mouth flap before a rough grunt forced out the troubled words. “Do you think she could… reciprocate? Even if it’s just a fraction?”

A few sparks shot off in Asaru’s head and cascaded through his body; he caught one of Bradford’s errant thoughts. Those tentacles nearly lost grip on that tail. The alien was silent for a while as his skull tilted back and forth slowly. 

“I… I cannot say…” Asaru’s speech was stilted. The skull continued to shift back and forth. “You… you will have to take the risk to see. She may have enough ‘human emotions’ and memories of her old self and personality to do so. Yet, I cannot give you a strong enough answer to quell that trouble in your heart.” He spoke carefully, trying his best not to sound too hopeful or harsh. “But, taking such a risky step, may finally close that chapter of your life your heart has refused to let go of.” 

Hearing that made Bradford close his eyes again. It was… a discomforting notion to him now, and those thoughts weren’t helping. His mind couldn’t decide whether he would finally find some form of peace from that or would be heartbroken again and spiral. Just because there was that faint hint of a chance that there was the old Jynn buried deep within Jy-Sol, that could allow her to reciprocate.

“Say I take that step and she accepts and reciprocates my feelings…” Bradford’s voice trailed off as he talked about that most unlikely scenario before he was going to mention the equally impossible outcome. “And we… you… saw.” He flinched even thinking about that aspect. He wanted to incinerate those thoughts. 

Why? What the hell is wrong with me? Was that him or his new biology causing that? 

A few more sparks of energy sparked through Asaru’s being as he looked away from Bradford. The alien tapped a finger against his bubble-membrane, and with his lower hands, the fingers drummed together. 

This is… tricky… We don’t need a repeat of that fling years ago…

“That would be an… interesting… venture to explore and handle, if it is a possibility.” Asaru inclined his head to the side. A faint snicker slipped out when he heard the man groan, more so at the increase in the explicit thoughts and other new and confusing feelings. 

Asaru drew a tentacle around and poked the center of Bradford’s head. “Though I would rather you not have a repeat of your little fling with Mena.”

Bradford closed his eyes as his lips drew into a thin, strained line. A second later, a burst of steam shot out as he snorted. Faint heat lines shimmered over his chest. “Do not remind me.” 

“In all seriousness, if that possibility would come to fruition…” Asaru paused as he tapped his fingers together, recalling so many factors that would be affected by the prospect. “In the event it became public, because I know this would stay strictly confidential, several protocols would need to be set up. I, we, both know how several would react. We don’t need the mutiny and chaos it will cause.”

For just a moment, Bradford’s eye twitched before he smacked his head. How could he forget about that? He cursed under his breath and at himself for a few minutes. He was letting that hurting heart and confused emotions cloud his mind again.

“Ugh…” He groaned. No more stalling. “When you think it’s best, contact Jy-Sol so we can finally have our talk… ”

A few excited sparks of energy surged through Asaru’s head. “A few days then. It will give you enough time to think of what you want to say and sort through other feelings.”

Bradford grumbled. He raised a hand to give that membrane head a smack, but a tentacle caught it. 

“I hate my new biology. The thoughts I’m having…” He felt his body heat up again as the “undressing” thoughts came back to his mind. He couldn’t tell if some part of him, the human him, wanted to entertain that. Please no. Just no.

“Things will sort themselves out in due time. Maybe a few more adjustments during those health checks will knock those sexual urges away.” Asaru snickered as he patted the side of the man’s hand. “Or… it could make them worse. Maybe Akarak’s are just a passionate species?”

“Asaru…” He growled.

“I jest.” Asaru patted his head a few more times before a swat knocked away the offended tentacle. “I will send a message in a few days.” 

————————

Jy-Sol. You may come to us now. Perhaps during his next health check this evening? I believe John is finally in a more sound mind and mood for us to talk. Some anger and bitterness linger, but I will make sure he doesn’t make any brash actions he will regret. Bring your guard companions. It will temper Maker’s mood as he most likely will disagree with your arrival. 

The message Jy-Sol received from Asaru startled her. It had been some time since that blow-up when Bradford had been released from the tank. 

She was back on the Avenger, currently in the Meditation room built for the psions, currently going through a trance treatment with one of the Templars to sort out a rough series of dreams and memories she had dealt with recently. 

The sudden message caused her psionics to spark, reflexively activating her defenses, kicking the Templar out of her mind. 

Reiner hissed as the sudden snap back caused him to jerk back, but quick footwork kept him from falling over. “They really don’t want us digging deeper to block them out and figure out this gap in the memories.” 

Psi veins bulging and glowing strongly, the man rolled his shoulders. His fingers wiggled, causing several sparks to dance across the tips. Taking a step forward, he raised his hand to Jy-Sol’s head only to raise a brow when the Chosen jerked forward. 

She raised a hand. “My apologies. I… just received an unexpected message. That was the cause of the defensive strike back.”

He raised a brow. He looked to his right. Her Watchers were still sitting off to the side at a table, keeping themselves busy by doing maintenance on their gear and quietly talking amongst themselves. It couldn’t have been them. 

“A message?” He asked. 

“Yes… something for me to answer soon…” Jy-Sol let her voice trail off. Should she go? A part of her wanted to, but another part of her was worried. There was a touch of fear, and that felt so strange to her for what she was, in that worry that things would not go well if she made her appearance. “How much longer will this session take?”

“A few more hours, as long as we do not have any more interruptions.”

“Mhm.” She nodded. It was still early in the day. “Thank you. I will… try to mitigate any future snap-backs. Please, continue your work.” Taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out, she returned to her previous position and closed her eyes. 

Reiner flexed his fingers before he placed his hands around her head again. “Holding you to that. Now, calm your mind and heart. Emotions stir those devouring shadows.”

“Yes… right. What they pull at, seeking the smallest cracks so they can take root.” She hissed. Hissed at her own naivety. How curiosity concerning her past had gotten the best of her several months ago, planting a dangerous seed of darkness in her being. 

It didn’t take long before the trance was in full swing again, but before it fully took her, she sent a message to Asaru. 

I will… consider the offer, Asaru. I do not wish to hinder the health checks, but if you believe my presence will cause no harm… I… She paused as doubt lingered in her heart. I will come. Again, thank you. 

I believe your presence will only be a mild hindrance before it can help rectify pressing issues, I suspect that you are all too aware of. I will await your answer, nonetheless. He sent back. 

Mhm. She pressed her tongue against her teeth. She wondered what he meant by that. It had to be something deeper than the constant coldness and disdain Bradford showed her. Now, please, do not contact me again for some hours, I need the quiet. 

I will await your message.

It was a few more hours before she was done with her session with Reiner. By then, Jy-Sol was mentally exhausted; a faint unease still hung in her mind.

She sent a message to Asaru and told him change plans for the next day. She needed her rest. Coming now would most likely lead to unfruitful discussions and potential lethal frustrations.

He understood and told her that the change of plans would work better due to Bradford getting rather heated, literally, during a physical exam after another infusion. Injuries were mostly kept to a minimum, and Bradford thankfully didn’t have to be sedated. 

Jy-Sol wasn’t sure if she should have been relieved, concerned, or worried. 

The two finished up their conversation so she could rest. Her Watchers escorted her back to her room and continued to watch her as a hawk, as the Chosen made herself comfortable in one corner. She took on her usual meditative position, sitting with her legs crossed, hands resting in her lap, head dipped forward, before she closed her eyes.

Yet, her mind was active as ever. Her conversation with Asaru left her a little peeved as the Ethereal continued to be vague on what more specific subjects he was implying besides the whole reason behind his hybridization. 

Instinctively, she tapped into her pre-cognition gift and began to run potential simulations of how said conversation would go the next evening, and another part of her mind went through old memories. 

Issues I am all too aware of?

She could feel her mind and sub-minds scratching just at the surface of what Asaru meant by that. It was something specific. Very specific.

What is it? Hm… What have I learned about John over the months… Or perhaps… over the year I was hunting him?

Just a faint pang of guilt crept into her hearts. So many had to die and suffer for her eyes to truly open, and she took pleasure in it, under the veiled guidance of the Elders.

A well-archived and frequently accessed memory rose to the surface that her minds quickly snatched up and unfurled.

They were memories she had gleaned or snatched from Bradford whenever they had clashed. Strong emotions laced with the biting, bitter anger she was all too familiar with. And then another painful and hateful memory came along with them. That interrogation that went sour, and he was finally barred from participating by Geist’s hands.

She froze, eyes opening wide. Her hearts stilled before beating rapidly. Her breathing hitched. Her skin flushed purple. 

Why… why am I feeling this way? Am I… concerned? Flustered…? I… I do not know… Certain human emotions were still so foreign to her. 

“Oh…” She quietly said to herself. Another reason why the man was so angry at her. “Oh… that will be an interesting conversation.”

But none of the videos showed what caused the excursion. All attempts to gain access to videos from camera feeds that were in restricted areas of the facility failed. Their best guess was that an experiment had gone wrong. 

XCOM put together a team of their most capable Psions, their resident Templars, and strong-willed operatives that would be bolstered by some mindshields. 

Jy-Sol volunteered herself and her Watchers for the mission. She felt like something was off about the whole thing and had some worries that the operatives would be unable to handle it themselves. Additionally, she could help shield their minds from the errant energies if they overwhelmed them or the shields.

Much to her annoyance and the annoyance of everyone, Bradford inserted himself into the investigation. With how Jy-Sol so readily volunteered herself for the mission, he felt like it was a trap. And then something was off about the intel they gathered, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

And his hunch just had to be partially right.

—————————

XCOM arrived at the Blacksite. The psionic energy was still flowing strongly, bitterly biting into everyone’s minds, but the psions worked to push it out. 

Bradford had Jy-Sol lead the way. A little test. He was watching her like a hawk.

They investigated the surrounding buildings first, finding only the brain-fried dead and the usual resources they could bring out and tag for the Skyranger to pick up.

As they closed in on the main building, on the source of the overwhelming psionic energy flowing through the facility, they found their answer. The Warlock. 

Dhay-Vol had been using some unfortunate psion test subjects to obfuscate his energy and amplify it. The poor humans were nearly burned out husks before he finally snuffed out their pitiful lives with a flick and grasp of his hands, draining the last vestiges of their life energy into himself. The pressure of the overwhelming biting energy decreased significantly.

Dhay-Vol’s vibrant, pin-prick eyes locked onto his sister. He raised his hand and stabbed an angry claw in her direction, firing off a bolt of psionic energy she swiftly deflected.

Jy-Sol was already shifting into a defensive stance as she reached for her glaive. She hastily told everyone to fall back.

“You push the Elders’ hand with your idleness, sister.” He sneered as his near flat nostrils flared. More psionic energy began to trail from his eyes. “Your deception. To think They saw great things in you.” Disdain and disappointment peppered his tone. “But,” a slow, twisted grin crept across his face, showing his sharp teeth, “you will answer for your waywardness and bow to your superior.”

Then his eyes shifted over to Bradford. Without thinking, the man let out a barking volley in the Chosen’s direction. Several others joined in before Jy-Sol could tell them not to waste their ammo. 

With a flick of his finger, a shield deflected the magnetic fire.

Warlock darkly chuckled. The glow in his eyes grew in intensity as his grin grew. That pointed claw jabbed at Bradford next. “But first, catch him. I will take care of my sister.”

A few seconds after he said that, there was a hum before that familiar black swarm of nanites, trailed by green energy, of a Spectre swept past Warlock on all sides and raced towards Bradford. 

Before she could react and put up a shield, Warlock blasted Jy-Sol with a searing bolt, knocking her off her feet. The impact of the bolt threw her back, knocking over an unlucky operative before she crashed against the wall. 

The other psions barely had a chance to react and throw up some shielding to attempt to block the swarm as several pings rang out and the flanging barks of ADVENT filled the air. They found themselves having to quickly redirect their shielding to block the magnetic hail firing raining down on them as everyone scrambled for cover. 

A scream reminded everyone of the swarm.

Those nanites had swarmed Bradford and quickly enveloped him, tearing into his skin and pouring into his mouth and down his throat. 

He crashed to the floor. As his immobilized body contorted violently before he went terribly still. There was a faint writhing twitch of a digit here and there before, a distorted copy composed of that swarm rose in his place. Like clockwork, the Shadow went to work to antagonize the man’s allies as he was writhing in unimaginable pain.

All was chaos. 

Jy-Sol had to keep her focus on Dhay-Vol to make sure he left the others alone. She had barely had a chance to recover when she found her devil-horned brother hounding her with more hateful energy. Each taunt that left his lips following psionic strike after strike was tinged with a sadistic glee. He wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to prove to their Masters that she was unworthy to be a Chosen. Unworthy to have her four-armed form. Unworthy to rule this world.

Even with her keeping his attention and occasionally providing help to the others when he clashing pushed her in the direction of an ADVENT Trooper, she also had to deal with the XCOM operatives throwing accusations at her for setting them up. She didn’t. She was as clueless as them and suspected something entirely different and potentially worse was at the facility. 

She was angry with herself that she didn’t see this potential variation when she ran a few simulations before the mission. All that trust she built over the months was gone.

As they fought, Jy-Sol felt something grasp as that faint connection she had with Bradford. Desperately grab at it. Then she heard the voice. Weak, but panicked

S-s-stop them! It was Asaru. They have us.

As swift as a lightning strike, her head snapped in the direction of the connection as she blocked another blast from her brother. She saw it. A pair of Troopers had picked up Bradford’s unconscious body and were hauling him over to a Psionic Gate being held open by a Priest.

No… The two that held so many answers to her distant past. Her heart wavered before she felt something snap inside of her. Her face twisted, her eyes began to grow a vibrant blue, before she let out an angry, snarled howl.

Barely dodging another rendering claw strike from her brother that marked her armor, she threw one hand high into the air.

“COME TO ME, YORRICK!” She needed an embodiment of her inner animal and rage on the field.

Dhay-Vol rushed at her with a series of disorientating teleports. He wanted to wrap his claws around her traitorous neck and snap it. 

Just as he closed in on her, one tensed hand pulled back, ready to rake his claws across her face, a harsh psionic ping rang out between the two as a blue flash of light suddenly appeared.

Dhay-Vol let out a pained, choked yell as he felt slick, cold metal connect with the side of his neck, slicing deep into it, before the firm impact of the movement sent him flying back.

“Oh, Hearteater!~” That singsong voice of Yorrick rang out. 

As that light dissipated, the hulking brute of a Butcher twirled his blood-soaked axe and whipped around the other. He raised the blood-soaked as to his face and licked it, letting out a faint mmm as he grinned. 

“Been waiting to spar with you for a long time. I always wonder what you taste like. You’re rather bitter!” He started to march over to the dazed Chosen, tapping the blades of his axes together. 

“Bar… Barbarian.” Dhay-Vol spat. He was on his knees. One hand was pressed against the swiftly sealing wound on his neck. His hateful glare shifted back to his sister. “Of course, you would bring in another traitor.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yorrick growled. “Eyes on me!” He tapped his axe heads together as a faint skipping pep entered his step.“Now, maybe we can trade notes on how best to tear out a heart? LIKE YOURS! HEH HA HA!” Like the wild cackling animal he was, he threw himself at the Warlock, who had to make a last-second teleport to dodge the blade that would have plunged into his chest. The strike shattered the flooring. 

With her brother occupied, Jy-Sol turned her attention back to Bradford and Asaru. With a dash and teleport, she reached the gateway, appearing just behind them. With the quick work of her glaive, she cut down the Troopers and caught Bradford with her lower arms. Barely exhausting energy, with a flick of her wrist, she ensnared the Priest, and with another flick, she sent them flying through the very portal they were keeping open, causing it to close.

Gently, she lowered Bradford to the floor and began to examine him. Several of those nanobots were crawling all over him, with several shifting bulges appearing under his skin. The man looked horribly pale, his face twisting with pain.

She raised an energy imbued hand over him to see if she could sense any other issues before she felt a touch on her mind again.

S-s-something wrong.  It was Asaru again. He sounded weaker than before. There’s s-s-something about this S-S-Spectre that’s different. It feels like it’s k-k-killing him. K-k-killing us. T-t-tearing at us. I-I-I can’t stop it.

A second later, she felt it through her powers. Her eyes widened and trembled. No, no, no. She could feel both of them slowly fading as Bradford’s body was being ravaged on the inside. The copy needs to die. That should stop this madness.

With a thought, she sent a message to her Watchers and ordered the three to focus on eliminating the Shadow. They swiftly complied and switched their focus. She then sent another message to one of the Specialists and told them to contact Firebrand.

The Specialist cursed at the sudden intrusion. They pointed out there was still too much psionic energy in the area for Firebrand to come in for an emergency extraction. She knew that. She told them she just needed Firebrand close enough and she would take care of the rest, once that Shadow was eliminated. They reluctantly agreed. 

Jy-Sol did what she could to stabilize Bradford as she made her way back to her allies.

With Dhay-Vol still thoroughly distracted by Yorrick’s unstoppable savage onslaught of wanting to take his head, besides attempts at caving in his chest armor so he could also take his heart, the Watchers managed to destroy the Shadow copy of Bradford just as the rest of the squad managed to push back the additional backup Warlock had called in. 

As soon as the last bullet broke the magnetic cohesion of the swarm, Bradford’s eyes flew open as he let out a sudden strangled gasp. Several flew out of his mouth before falling to the ground like dead flies. The ones crawling on his body dropped dead, too. And the ones under the skin stopped moving. But the man was still. His eyes were glazed over, his chest struggled to rise, and he still looked pale.

No, this shouldn’t be happening; he should be recovering. Jy-Sol hovered a hand over Bradford’s chest and was alarmed that his heartbeat was weak and growing weaker with each passing second.

She froze when a thought pierced her mind.

Get us out of here! Get us home! NOW! Asaru yelled, almost pleading.

She knew he could also pick up that something wasn’t right.

“Everyone to me!” She called out, beckoning them with a free hand. The others quickly made their way over to her.

“No!” Catching just a second to scan his surroundings, Dhay-Vol realized that his plan was unraveling. A new anger boiled inside of him. Just as he set his sights on his sister and pointed an energy imbued finger at her, he let out a strangled gasp. Another axe found a gap between his shields and planted itself firmly into the Chosen’s neck.

Yorrick cackled like the madman he was. “Your head is mine!” Roughly reeling the stunned Warlock in, Yorrick’s sharp teeth were fully on display as he licked his lips.  He was just about ready to take a bite out of Dhay-Vol’s neck before a harsh voice stopped him.

“Yorrick, enough of that and come to me!” Jy-Sol yelled. 

The barbarian looked at Dhay-Vol, then at her, back at Dhay-Vol, before he winced as he felt an angry sting stab at his brain. He growled out a whine. He finally had his prize and now had to toss it. What a waste. He wrenched his blade free, causing orange blood to spray everywhere, before he gave Dhay-Vol a solid kick to the chest, causing him to fly back and tumble across the ground. 

“I want compensation!” Yorrick snipped at Jy-Sol as he ran over to her and the others.

“Stop, your whining, you petulant child. You had your fun.” She was in no mood for his behavior. But a faint part of her was thankful he did his job.

Once everyone was gathered around her, a ring of blue psionic energy surrounded them. A second later, a bright flash of light fully enveloped them, and a ping rang out. As it cleared, they were gone. 

——————————

Just outside of the perimeter of the dangerous psionic energy surrounding the Facility was the Skyranger. A second later, the squad appeared inside of it; some were a bit disoriented by the jump and found themselves in awkward positions. 

Someone yelled at Firebrand to leave and use the afterburners as they needed to get back to the Avenger stat. The pilot swiftly complied.

With them on their way back to the Avenger, Jy-Sol found a place to set Bradford down and beckoned the Specialists to come over. 

One of them was already having their Gremlin scan the man as the other was checking his vitals by hand. His heartbeat was dangerously low, and his breathing was shallow.

The scan from the Gremlin revealed the Spectre nanites were dead, but it seemed like they had delivered a hidden viral payload that was attacking Bradford’s system. 

One of them was already sending information back to the Medical team on the ship to get them prepped. 

As the pair of Specialists worked to stabilize Bradford with the supplies they had on hand, Jy-Sol had one set of hands hovering over his head and the other over his chest. From her hands, trails of her psionic energy were cascading down. She was giving over some of her vast power, some of her life force, to aid the stabilization.

Bradford let out a sharp gasp, his face and body twisting in discomfort, as the energy entered him, permeating every inch of his being.

A Shard Gun was drawn and placed against Jy-Sol’s temple. Shouts soon followed as the others tried to calm the situation. A Templar had to stun Yorrick to keep the brute from charging through the others to get to the offender.

“What the hell are you doing?” The Ranger growled.

Jy-Sol barely glanced at them as she was concentrating on Bradford. “I am trying to sa—”

“Stand down.” Bradford spoke, weakly. His voice was split in two, with that ethereal voice of Asaru’s being more dominant. Eyes opened, revealing the man’s brown eyes were glowing blue. “Stand down. Let her… let her… work.” They struggled to speak. “She… she sustains us… Without her… we… we… will… die.” 

The Ranger’s lips were already twisted into a fierce snarl. Their eyes jumped to Bradford, back at Jy-Sol, and back to him. A twitching finger hovered over the trigger. They cursed.

“Don’t make me fucking regret my decision, boss.” Lowering their weapon, they kept a firm glare on Jy-Sol.

“You can… heh… shoot me later.” Bradford’s voice became more dominant for a second. He even managed a smirk.

With the situation mostly defused, Jy-Sol continued with her work. One of the Templars joined her to ease the distrust.

——————————

The ride back to the Avenger was mostly quiet.  There were frequent murmurs about how the operation went. Questions speculating if it was a trap that Jy-Sol was in on. She ignored them. Answering would be futile. Someone stuck up for her. They pointed out that she and Dhay-Vol despised each other, and the Warlock was showing far too much sadistic glee in attempting to murder her. And if the two were working together, she would have probably sent a subtle message to her Watchers to shoot them all in their backs. That shut down the conversation. A doubter grumbled it would continue once they were back on the ship.

To the annoyance of the Specialists, the more skeptical would frequently ask for an update on Bradford’s condition. It took one of them snapping and letting out a low-toned threat, with many pointed jabs to the chest, to keep their trap shut, and everyone would be updated if the man took a turn for the worse.

It was music to everyone’s ears when Firebrand announced they were about 20 minutes out from the Avenger. 

——————————

Jy-Sol was deep in her meditative transference when a gentle prod, then a weak grab, touched her psionics.

Did you know? It was Bradford. His tone, though weak, was accusing

Her eyes flashed open, and she looked down at the man. His eyes were closed.

Did you know? Bradford repeated.

Stop. Save our strength. Asaru interjected.

Did you know? He asked once more, putting more force into the connection.

Jy-Sol inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes. No. I did not. I had no idea my… former… Masters… She hesitated to even say that. Or brother had such plans. This… This is too far… even for Them if They wanted you both alive. The risks… What if it took too long to drag you back to that Gate? 

She was still trying to wrack her mind over this plan. The Elders wouldn’t have done something like this unless They had a way to reverse it.

Unless… A series of thoughts entered her mind. Ones that her sub-minds quickly extrapolated on. Troubling ones she kept to herself. A fate worse than death.

Dhay-Vol wholly intended to humble, humiliate, and kill me. I could feel it in every single fiber of his being. She sent a thought back over to the pair. She trembled just for a second as her body recalled the unending malice her Sibling had for her and faint traces of the Elders’ contempt for her actions. He was confident. Overly confident. As always, that is his downfall.

There was silence for some time. Jy-Sol had slipped back into her meditation when that same psionic sensation came back. She heard Asaru first, telling Bradford to rest, before the man asked his next question.

Why? He asked.

Pardon? Jy-Sol asked.

Why? He repeated. Why save me? Why save us?

She flared her nostrils for a moment, but no air came out. That doubt and suspicion. You are the ones that lead XCOM, that lead this Resistance. It would be a blow to the movement if you two died.

Why? He sensed there was more to it than that.

She pursed her lips before biting them. She shook her head. She could not share her more selfish reasons for keeping him alive. 

As I stated, you two are the lynch pin needed to free this world. Now please… Shifting her lower arms away from his chest, she dropped them down and carefully grasped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Rest. I must concentrate.

The man sent one last grumbled reply that they would discuss this when he recovered before going silent. Asaru sent a thank you.

She kept a steady stream going towards them as her mind treaded back onto horrid theories. Just before her mind went too deep into them. She felt another touch on her mind. One that was constantly in contradiction with itself. Cold and hollow, but at the same time, warm and embracing.

No. Not you. Go away. She hissed. A troubling outside force, she naively interacted with, even with warnings from strange allies.

She flinched when she felt phantom hands touch her shoulders. She flinched again when she felt something draw near to the side of her face.

I will be watching. My ears are always open. My hands are always giving. The voice spoke. Gentle as the rain.Vast as the cosmos. And as deep as the ocean.

Go away. She repeated once more. It lingered a little longer before all sensations left.

Shoulders falling, she let out a deep sigh. She sent a few pulses of energy to shake off any lingering feelings for her unwanted visitor. She would have to check her neck later.

——————————

As soon as the Skyranger touched down on the landing pad, Jy-Sol told the Templars to tell Navla to get to the Infirmary as soon as she could, before barely giving a warning to the others as she teleported herself and Bradford down to the Infirmary. It was risky, but she felt it was much faster as his condition had barely shifted for the better on the ride back.

The sudden teleport spooked the Medical team, but they quickly shifted gears and directed her to the advanced gurney to lay Bradford on so they could hook him into various machines and IV drips.

Jy-Sol found a corner where she would be out of the way and kept a close watch. She didn’t cut her connection. She felt that if she did, the two would take a turn for the worse.

It didn’t take long for the one skeptical Ranger to come charging in, with some of the Senior staff trailing behind. As soon as they spotted Jy-Sol, they started throwing accusations. A hand was going for a knife.

Corvo Samaras sped up his pace and grabbed the fuming soldier before they did anything stupid. Dragging them out of the Infirmary, one could assume he gave them a dressing down and dismissed them, before he came back in.

With just a few head nods and gestures, he had Jy-Sol and the others go over to a side room. The questioning began. Questions Jy-Sol had already answered before. But it barely phased her until two people kept pushing that she must have planned it.

She lightly snapped back that she had hundreds of opportunities to isolate their leader and snatch him away, before and after she was finally allowed to set foot on their mobile HQ. She called what Dhay-Vol and the Elders did dangerously sloppy. Beyond idiotic. There were too many variables where Bradford and Asaru could have been lost.

That shut them up.

As she was just beginning to explain a worrying thought of what the Elders may have had planned if They had managed to capture the two, she suddenly stopped.

Biting down hard on her tongue, causing orange blood to squirt out, she felt a sudden shock to her system. A harsh jab to the side of her caused her to tip over, but she caught herself on the wall. Before she had a chance to recover, she found herself being forced to her knees as if something was bringing a hammer down on her skull and back repeatedly. She did not make a sound. She didn’t need the humans to worry.

The horrid feeling of cold, weathered hands clawing at her head, clawing at that golden helm that was keeping them out, came next. Then a voice.

Jy-Sol.

Eyes flying open, she felt her hearts still. But she had been expecting this. She tampered down her connection to Bradford. They did not need to sense that if They broke through. Her eyes darted towards the door. Mind conjuring up many variables, wondering when that Templar Navla would arrive. She hoped it was soon.

Jy-Sol. The Elders repeated her name.

Jy-Sol shooed the Senior staff away from her. She let out a strained whisper for them to get that lead Templar to Bradford asap and to prepare to move the ship. It didn’t take long for them to figure out what she meant by that, as they could tell she was straining against an invisible source. They left quickly. That emergency announcement soon blared throughout the ship.

Jy-Sol! A thousand voices raged at her.

She let out a choked gasp as her face slammed against the floor. Gritting her teeth, her nails clawed against the metal floors.

Jy-Sol. As swift as the rage came, that false, tender kindness entered. We know you can here Us. Listen carefully, for We will only offer this mercy once.

She scoffed but held her mental tongue.

You can redeem yourself from your misguided madness, as you allowed yourself to become too intertwined with these lowly creatures. They hissed. Bring that wretched leader and the Silent Guide to Us before it is too late. 

Jy-Sol replied with a short “hm.” She grinned when she felt a faint hint of agitation in the connection.

Do so quickly. They stressed. A faint anger entered the Chorus before it quickly died back. You will still be rewarded with rulership of his planet. Your Siblings will be under your thumb. And… 

The pause made Jy-Sol narrow her eyes. She could sense an uncertainty amongst the Collective. 

Once We claim what is rightfully Ours from that leader. We can heal him. Remake him in the fashion of your choosing, as we sense you have grown a strange fondness for the human. They couldn’t hold back Their disgusted hissing. Human emotions tainted another one of Their Children. He can become useful to Our cause. Another mind to lead ADVENT and curtail this unruly world.

A flash of bright anger cut through Jy-Sol’s eyes. She opened her mouth, both physical and mental, but quickly shut it, biting down hard on her tongue until she drew blood.

No, not yet. I cannot lash back yet with my strength and attention diverte—

Her eyes grew wide. She felt another connection. There was a partial coldness to it. Like the old, timeless depths of the oceanic abyss. Then she heard it.

Cut your connection. I have them. It was Navla’s cold, near-indifferent voice. Jy-Sol could feel her hearts flutter with relief.

Without a second thought, Jy-Sol severed her connection and recalled her power to herself.

No. She replied harshly to her former Masters. No. I will no longer do Your bidding. She hissed. I have learned of Your true nature. I have seen through Your lies.

Jy-So—

No! Blue energies erupted from her being. Get out… Get out… GET OUT!

She roared both mentally and out loud. The Collective shrieked, both shocked by her defiance and the surge of pain that ripped through the connection. They refocused Their efforts and tried to claw a way into her mind and locate her.

Insolent child! You will be—

“GET OUT!” She raged. “COTALO! TA ISH’VI UNE.” She cursed at Them. She was done.

The Elders shrieked once more as the connection was burned up and severed.

There was a faint snap back. One that made Jy-Sol gasp and clutch at her head. The world began to spin and grow dim.

No, not yet. I will not go to the dark until I know They are gone.

Slowly and painfully, she forced herself up and rested on her knees. It was a struggle, but she searched her mind, her being, and her psionics to see if there was a shred of that connection. There was nothing. It was seared like a hot iron.

Satisfied, she collapsed and let the dark take her.

——————————

Jy-Sol was out for a few days before she finally regained consciousness. 

She wasn’t surprised XCOM had moved her to her prison cell of a room and had set up several psi-nullifying devices. With just a faint push, she knew she could overpower them, but did not do so.

As soon as it was relayed to one of the Senior staff members that she was awake, it didn’t take long for the questioning to begin again. She answered as truthfully as she could.

Yes, her chasing them out of the room was because the Elders had connected to her. Yes, she severed the connection after she learned the details of Their mad plan. No, she did not give Them any information, and They had no idea of the previous location the Avenger was stationed. No, again, she still had nothing to do with Bradford and Asaru’s current state. She uncharacteristically cursed out the person who brought that up again.

Once the questioning was over, she had one singular question for them. Everything else could wait.

“How are John and Asaru faring?” 

The strange, tender concern caused a few eyebrows to raise, and hushed murmurs started up with the skeptical, but they answered her question.

Bradford and Asaru were not doing well. Bradford had slipped into a coma, with Asaru barely responding to reserve their strength. Navla was able to take over the psionic stabilization for some time after Jy-Sol cut her connection, but now she and her fellow Templars were having to cycle their connections to the two to not drain themselves. 

Extensive scans, blood draws, and tests revealed that the payload from the Spectra was a bio-mechanical virus that was tearing apart his DNA. The former ADVENT doctors hadn’t seen anything like it. They were working tirelessly to find a way to stop it. Repairing the damage… that would be another task. A few operations had been started to hit various Facilities to steal that coveted Meld. They also had contacted their various allies to find more of the stuff. Especially, the higher grade kind.

Hearing the news devastated Jy-Sol. She cursed the Elders and her brother for their carelessness. And she wept. Wept for the human she felt held that key she needed to bring back her fragmented memories of the human she once was. Weeping for an old friend.

The weeping caught the Senior staff off guard. The undying nuisance was showing a human emotion they didn’t think she was truly capable of. It made them uneasy. Maybe there was still a shred of the human she once was, buried deep in her changed body.

It took some time for her to control her tears, but once she did, she asked if she could go see Bradford and Asaru. She didn’t hide her intentions. She wanted to take over for the Templars. Her powers outclassed them, and she wouldn’t tire so easily. And she just wanted to see their condition for herself.

The staff was split, but the majority vote won. Jy-Sol would be allowed to go to the Infirmary to take over for the Templars, but she would always have one of them or two of their soldiers with her. She agreed to that.

——————————

Arriving at the private room that held XCOM’s ailing leader after decontamination, Jy-Sol’s hearts broke again. He looked horrible.

His skin was pallid. Parts of it were split open with pus oozing out, and in other places, it was flaking away, layer after layer to reveal the bleeding, dying muscles underneath. Some of it took on a stomach-churning, gangrenous green, and other parts of it were a rotten black. Sweat ran down his face. His chest trembled with every mechanical breath provided for him via intubation. 

She wanted to touch him, but the covering canopy to the advanced gurney kept her from doing so. She placed her hand on the glass.

Please, hold on. She sent a thought that she knew wouldn’t be answered. I’m sorry, They did this to you. I should have kept you from coming. But your… paranoia… I... I understand your brash decision.

She eventually took over the energy transference from the Templars. To her surprise, there was a near-instantaneous hungry draw that unbalanced her for just a moment. That wasn’t there the day it all happened. She had her questions, but saved them for later. It only took a few adjustments to account for the draining that wouldn’t strain her.

With her new task, she found a corner to make her new home until the man was healed. She didn’t want to be in the way of the doctors when they came and went. She let herself enter a meditative state and blocked out the world as she tuned herself sharply to Bradford and Asaru. She wanted no conversations, whether it be her Watchers, the defected Proxies, the Senior staff, Templars, or the doctors. She needed to concentrate.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed; it could have been hours, it could have been days, but she felt something pluck at the connection.

Jy-Jy-Jy-Sol… The intertwined voices of Asaru and Bradford called out. Jy-Jy-Jy-Sol… J-J-Jynn… They repeated, but Bradford’s became more dominant at the mention of her old identity.

Her eyes flashed open as soon as she heard them. They fell upon the gurney. The doctors were back, dressed in full surgical clothes. There were several IV drips of an orange substance she could only assume was Meld around them. The canopy to the gurney had been lifted. Her nose wrinkled as she detected the smell of necrotizing flesh.

Jy-Jy-Jy-Sol… They called out again.

“Refocus.” She quietly mumbled to herself before bowing her head and closing her eyes. 

I am here. She responded.

What’s… g-g-going… on? They asked. E-e-everything… f-f-feels… w-w-wrong…

Her closed eyes tightened. Tell the truth? Or tell a lie? Your shared condition… is not faring kindly. But the doctors are doing what they can. Something in the middle was best.

They were silent. She felt a few more taps and tugs on her connection to them and an attempt to spread out, but it quickly retracted as their power faltered.

W-w-we are… d-d-dying… aren’t w-w-we? They asked. I-I-I am… d-d-dying… aren’t I-I-I? Bradford repeated the question.

Jy-Sol bit the inside of her cheek as her neck tightened. She was expecting that. She held in the sigh that wanted to escape. 

I will not hide it. The current prognosis is grim. She paused as she gathered her thoughts. In the infinite, idiotic wisdom of the Elders, They inflicted you with some sort of bio-mechanical virus. It is tearing you apart from the inside. And she cursed Them. The doctors are doing what they can to find a way to stop it. To find a way to reverse the damage. They are here right now. I can only assume that while they are feeding your body with specifically programmed Meld to combat the virus and undo its damage, they are… removing the parts that cannot be saved.

There was silence. Silence that lingered too long for Jy-Sol’s liking. She tuned her senses back to hear the surrounding world again and could still hear that steady beat of the heart monitor going. She let out a faint sigh of relief.

S-s-so… this is… is… h-h-how it ends? 

She went, still hearing just Bradford speak. She was about to reply, but he continued.

No… no b-b-blaze of g-g-glory. He recalled his suicidal days some years after XCOM’s defeat. Not a… d-d-destroyed… l-l-liver. He questioned how he lived for so long with how bad some days got. N-n-not b-b-bleeding… out… b-b-b-urning up in s-s-some forest after an op… op gone… w-w-w-rong. He recalled how he got his plasma burn scar on his shoulder and was almost stabbed with a bayonet in his stomach.  A d-d-damn… virus.

Do not think like that. Jy-Sol hushed him. Have faith in the work of your fellow compatriots. Just hold on. They need you. This world needs you both. She paused for a moment as she thought of what to say next. The next series of words came out on their own. I need you both. 

Stunned by her words, she drew her head back and shook it. Why did I say that? She kept the thoughts to herself.

There was no reply for a long time. Jy-Sol bit her lip.

She felt a few taps. What she heard next perplexed her and made her hearts hurt.

Laughter. Weak, bitter laughter. Seemed Bradford had his doubts he would survive. Or was he laughing at what she said? As quick as it came, he went silent.

Bradford? Asaru? She asked. John? She just wanted a reply. Any reply.

A sudden curse from the outside world drew her back into it. A cacophony of sounds smashed against her, nearly causing her connection to Bradford and Asaru to falter. As she opened her eyes and refocused her mind, she quickly figured out what was wrong.

Surgery complications. Bradford’s vitals were dropping. His heart was dangerously close to stopping.

No… no! Jy-Sol sprang to her feet, but she did not move. It wasn’t the guards assigned to her that made her stop. A troubling, painful thought came to her mind. What could she do?

She let her mind slip into that precognition gift of hers, tempered by her sub-minds, to run near-instantaneous simulations to see all potential futures. Most were bleak. A few slivers they lived, but Bradford was severely disabled. In many, both were dead. Then a series of other possibilities came to her mind. 

Her body trembled as she felt a cold spell come over her. No. She immediately pushed them out, pushed out that hovering, gentle touch that wanted to lull her to accept risky offers and make dangerous deals. Stay away.

As she pushed those dark thoughts away, one potential future came to light, brought forth by her Analytical mind. But it came at its own cost, but looked to be the best chance for the two’s survival.

No… She didn’t want to go to that. It bordered on what the Elders had offered as an extension of Their “mercy” if she brought them to the Collective. That was an extreme option. But… But…

She found herself moving on her own to get a better look at Bradford. She gasped. He was a shadow of his former self. His features were sunken. Decay was rampant across his body. And nauseous yellow-tinted pustules peppered his skin.

It may be their only chance… I recall my Ascension to a Chosen was troublesome, but he figured it out. Hybridization was the solution. Maker may be their only chance. 

She hoped Raal’Maker was willing to hear her out. They hadn’t spoken directly since she started her double agent task. Just a few dead drops here and there to gain supplies and information. But she had her worries. She doubted he would rat her out to the Collective once she contacted him. But how to contact him? She had a feeling the Collective had a scrutinizing eye on him since she revealed her true colors.

Unless I—

She barely had a chance to finish the thought until she heard a troubling sound. A long, eerie beep.

“He’s stopped breathing! His heart’s stopped!” A doctor exclaimed.

No, no, no! Jy-Sol found her body moving on its own. She pushed aside the guards attempting to stop her, using a flicker of her power to restrain them against the walls. She gently pushed aside the doctors attempting to revive the dying man.

“Stand back.” She warned them once as her eyes were consumed by blue. They didn’t attempt to argue; they quickly scattered.

She placed all her hands on Bradford and poured her energy into him. It felt like ages passed before that dreadful death drone began beeping again, and his chest began to rise and fall once more, even if it struggled. Relief washed over the room. But she knew that wasn’t enough.

Her eyes darted around at all of the equipment. I can’t move him from this. He’s in no state to be moved. I hope Maker doesn’t mind the mess. She had made her decision. Even more so, as deeply protected memory reminded her of something. Something that gave her some assurance that the Collective would be blind to her efforts and Maker’s meddling.

Her eyes fell on who she sensed was the lead surgeon. “Forgive me for my hasty actions and what is to follow. Tell them I am saving them. Tell them to speak to Insight. She will know where to find me.”

A faint blue glow slowly began to encapsulate her, Bradford, and all the equipment attached to him.

It took a few seconds for everyone to figure out what she was about to do, and they immediately began to argue against it.

“We dance the rites of life and death.” Jy-Sol said before the blue light fully swallowed them, and they disappeared in a radiant psionic ping.

He would have stayed, but he was needed for the operations. Especially with one dealing with an old XCOM scientist who still refused to join them due to their odd paranoia. A paranoia that he hated since he couldn’t just send someone else to talk to them. They always demanded he be the one to come in person, no one else. Bradford questioned why he entertained it, though he had given the Void Walkers a green light to send over who they thought was best to help the persnickety scientist out, but didn’t want to sour the relationship with them. Even if he only heard directly from them every once in a blue moon, most of the info came via the Void Walkers.

As he was ascending the ramp to go through the main Workshop, he was intercepted by one of the Bridge staff. Orion. The man with forever blinding bangs liked to go by his callsign more than his real name. Something not too uncommon on the ship.

 The expression he wore was rather concerning, besides his appearance. His long, raven hair was disheveled, revealing wide, darting eyes. His uniform was oddly unkempt, and the fluorescent orange headset he always wore was hanging off his head at an odd angle. With shaking hands, the man pulled him to the side, letting the rest of Bradford’s squad continue through.

Bradford was about to ask what had the tech-head all jumpy when the man whispered the news to him. Now, he understood. His mood quickly soured.

“WHAT DO YOU MEA—”

Bradford barely caught himself. He was halfway breathing down the poor worker’s neck, eyes full of rage and veins on his strained neck bulging, before he snapped himself out of the somewhat misplaced worry-laced anger. And then there were eyes around. Judging eyes that were never too fond of the fool’s errand, those “original XCOM personnel” had the current XCOM “wasting” countless hours, manpower, and resources to search for the fabled Commander and Sub-Commanders. The find in the middle of the previous month, with the help of the other Factions, finally proved the doubters wrong, but rumors had been spreading that something was going on with Commander Antonov’s mental state, which just wasn’t right. 

Bradford’s eyes quickly found one group and their ring leader with a mop of greasy, dark brown hair, Alberich, who was pulling their weight by moving some crates in and out of the ship. 

Their eyes met. Alberich’s face was as serious as his, even with the massive scar on the left side of his face affecting some of his facial muscles. The man’s eyes narrowed for just a moment as he didn’t particularly get along with Bradford, being one of the biggest critics of the “obsession” to find the old leaders. The glare only lasted for a little while before the corners of his eyes turned upward, and a twitching grin crept across his crooked face. 

The man didn’t say a word. Bradford knew what it meant.

“Come with me.” Bradford said with gritted teeth. He didn’t give Orion much choice as he was practically dragging the lanky man along by the arm to go to a more private area to chat. 

Hearing no sounds in the gun range, he dragged Orion down there and into one of the locked munition rooms before he began to grill him with his questions.

“What do you mean that the Commander has been missing from the Infirmary for the past couple of days, and you guys can’t find her!?” He did his best to control his volume level, but he just wanted to scream. “She is malnourished, suffering from muscle atrophy, is missing her right arm, and did we forget that her psionics are on the fritz!?” Just a fraction of shouting slipped through.

Orion winced, shrinking back. “S-s-sir! We have been searching for her n-n-nonstop since the Medical Staff noticed she was m-m-missing.” He quickly said, nearly tripping over his words. “She is somewhere on the ship or… nearby… with how some food and clothing items keep going missing here and there.”

“Nearby?” He couldn’t imagine the Commander having escaped from the ship and into the wilds. She would barely survive more than a day out there in her current shape. “The hell is that supposed to mean!? How the hell is she avoiding the cameras!?”

Orion raised trembling hands as Bradford backed him against the wall. “We don’t know, sir! We are trying to figure out how she’s doing it! It may be her psionics from what those reports said!”

Bradford let out an exasperated sigh as he finally backed off and began pacing. He was rubbing his chin, just trying to think of why Elli would do this. He knew why.

Damn the Elders for what They did to you.

It was a foolish dream to think that getting back the Commander would have gone smoothly. She had been the Elders’ prisoner for over 20 years or so, and XCOM was barely scratching the surface on learning what hell she had suffered. 

They took her arm… or was it damaged during our fall?

The physical. The stasis inside that suit barely kept muscle atrophy at bay. And peeling her from that suit was another task from what he recalled. Especially freeing her “right arm.”

There were a myriad of visible and hidden ports that connected to that stub to the suit with techno-organic tendrils of some sort, besides a few more hidden ports across her body; then there was a golden band that encompassed the stub. So far, nothing seemed special about it that it looked like the Elders planned to give her a new arm, finding various attachment points on the stub.

Now those hidden ports…  None of the former ADVENT doctors had ever seen ports like that. And their inquiries with the Skirmishers and Void Walkers brought nothing. Though with the latter, after doing some quid pro quo work for them, they were going to do some deep dives to find anything out of the ordinary.

And her throat. That was already screwed up before the Invasion, and They did something to it.

The increased scarring across her throat was a shock to Bradford when he first saw it, and then the small, obsidian diamond-shaped gem, implanted into the center of her neck, was the next thing that caught his eye. And two more were at the base of her neck, just above her collarbone. 

Still don’t like how she got that. Sorry that she had a crap mother. Can’t believe it took Elli escaping to the military and coming back from leave for her to chew out her father to finally get the man to regrow his backbone and divorce the woman, and save her younger siblings that weren’t too deep in the fog.

He learned one day, after a rather nasty operation, just how she got her throat scar. Elli and Sub-Commander Kamon had been blowing off steam together, complaining about horrible parents and siblings and how both got their scars over some drinks. 

Kamon had a horrible father and stepmother who only took him in to try and get his late mother’s money, though they were already well-off. It never worked, as his mother and her family had some intense insight into how to protect it. It just sucked that he was stuck with his father and his horrible family for some years before he could escape to college and then the military. He did not miss them at all. Especially, some of the half-siblings as they pulled a “prank” with some fireworks that ended up setting the left side of his body on fire, leading to some nasty burn scars. And that didn’t include a separate incident that was the cause of some of his other facial scars and some muscle paralysis in his face that corrective surgery couldn’t fix. Both incidents could have killed him. 

Elli had a horrible mother from the very moment she was born. She just had to be the firstborn and a girl. That forever cemented a strong hate in her mother’s heart. And then she looked too much like her father with her blond hair, though she supposedly loved that about her dad. Elli couldn’t quite remember what led up to the fight, and maybe some of her knucklehead siblings at the time were of no help, but her mother nearly killed her via strangulation with some cord that cut deep. She couldn’t recall how it stopped, but remembered one of her siblings started being nicer to her and their hen-pecked father. But the damage was done to her neck and vocal cords. She had an obvious scar running across the front of her neck, and her voice now had an odd rasp to it.

And now, it seemed like she had her voice back. Or what was supposed to be her voice.

Bradford mentally sighed as his mind drifted back to that day.

It had been about a week since they had pulled her from that suit, and she was in a stable enough state to stay awake. She was partially cooperative, if not jumpy, due to unfamiliar surroundings and people. But the moment she began to speak, she grew more agitated, even when she tried to hide it.

The docs think something happened to her old voice box, and the Elders replaced it with a new one that is rather special. He wondered if that black diamond was a part of the replacement.

Every word she spoke came out slightly different. Pitch. Tone. Inflection. And at one point, he was pretty sure she mimicked one of the male workers near perfectly. Eventually, she just stopped talking and continued to communicate via a tablet.

At least you psionics didn’t go off that day. Took another week for that to happen.

Just as his mind was about to draw up that memory. He quickly squashed it before that uneasy feeling could take over his body again. It was unpleasant, besides being terrifying. 

He stopped pacing and looked at Orion. The man was still shaking despite how he tried to hide it, and now avoiding eye contact with him. Another sigh slipped out, seeing how their whole body tensed. Work on your anger… Doesn’t help that you are tired.

“Sorry about… that.” He apologized. “I have one more question before I find the others.” 

Orion barely relaxed, only for a second, before he said that. His fingers twitched.

“How many know?”

Orion flinched, body tensing to prepare himself for another outburst. “Almost everyone on the ship.”

Bradford closed his eyes tightly and cursed. He prayed it stayed on the ship. Opening his eyes again, he looked at him. “Get back to hunting and get me added to the loop.”

“Already done and done, sir.” Orion quickly nodded before nearly running out of the room.

Bradford took a moment to digest everything and stew in his thoughts. Just where could she be? How far could she have gone since his departure? 

“At least they have some search parties going.” He mumbled, thinking of what was told to him. He just didn’t like that nothing had turned up yet.

A few dark thoughts entered his mind that he quickly had to squash. 

“If ADVENT found her, this ship would be a twisted, smoldering grave marker.”

Shaking his head again, he knew he needed to go chat with the Senior staff to see what they knew. 

————————————

Arriving at the Bridge, it didn’t take long for him to find familiar faces and for them to drag him into a chat.

Everything shared was more or less the same as what the worker had told him as soon as he arrived. Nothing new, minus some food and other minor items had gone missing from various parts of the ship. Some people reported hearing some strange sounds, such as whistling, which made them all believe she was still close by. 

Someone was working on putting up some cameras at key areas to try and catch her. Another was working closely with the scientists to see if they could possibly track her down via her psionics, since they had a rather unique signature besides glowing blue. So far, no one had reported any psionic touches to their minds. But they made sure the various teams kept some dampening collars on hand if she had another episode with her psionics.

Several others tossed up more ideas. Some were better than others.

It was a start, and Bradford liked that. In a way, he was champing at the bit to go lead one of the search parties prowling the ship, but he could feel fatigue was slowly eating at him. Joining in on something that he knew would make him ignore sleep for days would be a poor idea. He knew just how his body felt right now would only lead to trouble down the line. He wasn’t young anymore and had enough injuries and shrapnel in his body that he had to be more careful with the risks he took.

He gave out a few orders and told everyone to keep him in the loop before he headed off to his Quarters. Technically, it was the Commander’s Quarters, but they hadn’t fully moved her into the room due to them still running a myriad of tests regarding her health, and now this issue compounded that.

————————————

“Elli, Elli, Elli… Why?” Bradford mumbled as the door to the room opened and closed with a sharp snap.

He was already unlacing and kicking off his boots as he was hopping halfway across the room. With them off, he placed his overly modified rifle onto one of the coaches before he started taking off his gear. He would have done it in the Armory, but the whole situation made him forget, and he was not trekking all the way over to the Armory in his tired state.

“You had been cooperative so far, and now you up and do this…” He shook his head.

Part of him wanted to pretend like he didn’t know why she did that, but he couldn’t. It was painfully obvious.

“She… she doesn’t trust us fully. Has her doubts. Even more so after that day, a few days before I left.”

He could remember the shocking day in near-perfect detail.

It was another day down in the Infirmary with him, Dr. Veer, and the others trying to talk to her, testing her memory. That was always rough, seeing what she could and couldn’t remember, and Bradford wondered if their quest to find the Commander again was for naught, with how jumbled her memories of XCOM were, not mentioning her memories before that time were also shot.

Then she spoke it after everyone once again refused to give her the current year. She was off and on aware in her prison. She knew the aliens had won. The Elders pulled off a coordinated attack on the Bases, and she was captured and dragged off to some alien base. She had her mind scoured repeatedly, besides several surgeries performed over the years, before the Elders finally had her chipped, and that was it.

The details were shocking.

And, Bradford wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he finally let how many years had gone by since the fall of XCOM, and repeated it when the others told him not to.

It was like everything just hit Elli at once as her expression immediately became dour. She was silent. Deathly silent before she repeated the years in a meek voice. Her expressions shifted like a whirlwind between shock, disbelief, and despair. And then she started laughing. He hated that.

She just laughed and laughed, eyes wide open and bulging as she cackled like a hyena. Like a person who had lost all sense of reason and will to live. She kept laughing, before it was interspersed with cries, as she suddenly threw her head back.

That’s when they learned of more implants that were hidden on her face and neck and her psionics.

The moment she threw her head back, like it would snap backwards like a twig, a series of slats on the sides of her neck opened up, revealing red muscles and black implants with several holes, and then a few on her cheeks down to her jaw slid open. What was underneath was just like the neck, with a few hints of gold. 

There was a faint high-pitched whistle that a few said they heard. Then her eyes began to glow that vibrant blue, and sparks of psionic energy began to fill the air. Instantly, there was an unbearable pressure in the room. 

They didn’t have a chance to react, to prepare themselves for the ensuing discord of wretched emotions.

It struck like a hurricane. A whirlwind of psionics swiftly ensnared the minds of everyone in that room, and they felt it. All the emotions swirling in her fractured mind. The pain. Anger. Disbelief. Shock.

 A few of them began to cry, joining her weeping, having their own painful memories grabbed and unceremoniously pulled from those dark depths that they would have rather stayed buried. Others began to laugh madly, joining the band of hyena cackles. What was the point of this Rebellion? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Only a few, those with strong wills, were able to fight off the infectious emotions and work together to try and calm her down to silence those psionics.

Bradford’s body bristled just recalling the event. He was somewhere in the middle, fighting through tears, thinking of lost friends and a missed opportunity of love.

“Had to sedate you as you were about to spiral again once we calmed you down… Seemed you gleaned some of our minds, and that confirmed some things for you.” He sighed, shaking his head. 

With his gear off, he was working on taking his shirt off as he was heading over to the bed. He would have hopped into the shower first to clean himself of the few weeks’ buildup of grim and smells, but his body was aching for some good sleep first. Just a few hours dead in bed and then he’d take a shower at whatever temperature was available. 

“Hope something turns up soon on her whereabouts. Don’t want to hear it from those doubters that finding her was pointless…” He grumbled. He didn’t want them to be right. XCOM needed that brain of the Commander. The aliens had captured her for a reason. But there was a faint sense of dread that had been building in his mind since her rescue and all those tests. What if that mind of hers was permanently damaged?

Just as he got his shirt off and was moving down the stairs, a pinged alert from the computer got his attention. He quickly doubled back and went over to it to see what was up.

It was nothing truly important. Just that some cameras had been set up around those areas Elli had stolen some items from. And then some psi detectors were being placed around the ship. 

He grumbled. It wasn’t exactly a waste of his time due to the circumstances, but part of him felt annoyed by the lack of progress.

There was a faint, slow depressive hiss that came from somewhere between the middle of the room and the main entrance. A small hum and low whistle, barely audible, followed.

Bradford’s concentration was fully on the computer as he was typing up a message to clarify, only to push major updates to him. He didn’t want the alerts going off all day as he got some rest. His ears twitched, but he didn’t quite catch the noises. 

The low whistle kept going until a high-pitched one joined. Again, it was just outside the perceptible range of human hearing.

“Hm…” Bradford snorted as his hand went up to his neck and started scratching. 

All of a sudden, his skin just felt irritated and nasty. Nastier than he could tolerate. In the past, he had gone months without a proper shower, just having to use whatever clean source of water he and his group stumbled across to do a quick sponge bath, or dipping into a river or lake to clean off. But this… this felt worse than that. As if he had fallen into the horrid remains of unfortunate victims in a Chryssalid nest, and a few of the eviscerated bugs, and needed to wash off fast in fear of lingering venom besides the acrid smells.

“Maybe a shower first would be a good idea? Get my overworked brain and body relaxed before a long sleep?” He mumbled to himself. It just took him mulling over the thought for a short while before he swiftly nodded to the idea.

He finished up his message before adjusting some notifications and putting the computer to sleep, before he headed to the bathroom. He was slowly undressing on the way, taking off his undershirt and tossing it to the side before working on undoing his belt buckle.

“Hope they worked out whatever issue they were having with the water pressure and temps.” He mumbled as that door slid open. 

There was always some form of maintenance happening on the ship to fix one issue or another, and somehow it would always cause another issue to arise. He shook his head and chuckled. It faintly reminded him of some issues they dealt with back in the day when they were running through several prototype ideas.  

“The work never ends.”

Flicking on the lights, he went over to the counter first to give himself a quick once-over. He had a few healing wounds and a few new scars, but nothing that needed immediate attention from the Medical team.

As he was pulling off a gauze patch, he suddenly froze. His ears twitched. He was just starting to perceive the whistles. Then he felt it. A subtle push on his mind before that electrical pulse trickled down his spine.

“What the…?” He mumbled as his eyes darted around, trying to figure out the source of the sounds and sensations. He felt that push again, his mind growing clouded to focus on the wound on the left side of his hip. 

Just as that haze nearly fully took over and he was about to look at it, something within him pushed back, clearing the haze. His eyes went wide before he suddenly cursed. He knew the feeling. Psionics. But who or what?

That whistling grew, more perceivable than ever. 

His pupils shrank as he felt his skin crawl. Just more unpleasant electrical pulses peppered his nervous system, trying to force that haze back on him.

Wait… Wait… Wait… He was just on the cusp of figuring out who when the door to the shower creaked open.

His eyes darted to the mirror, catching an obscured silhouette pressed against the frosted door. He spun on his heels. 

“Elli!?”

Just as he said that, there was a click and the room went dark. That door let out a loud squeak as it slammed open before he heard the pitter-patter of bare feet rushing at him.

He cursed, fruitlessly blinking several times, hoping his eyes would adjust quickly, but it was pointless. He just took on a defensive stance, listening carefully to her approach.

What he wasn’t expecting was getting blinded by a flash of blue right to the face, accompanied by the disorientating feeling of those psionics throwing his mind into a spin. Before he knew it, he was swept off his feet, causing him to knock against the counter before his side hit the ground with a hard thud.

He groaned as he rolled onto his back, which turned to a wheeze as he felt a sudden weight on his chest, and then something cold pressed against the front and side of his neck, and then something with an electrical tingle touched his head.

There was another click. The lights flickered back on. 

His eyes were closed tight for a little while until most of the psionic haze faded. As he opened them again, he got his answer to who his attacker was. Still wearing that medical gown, but it looked like she stole some shorts. 

“Elli? What the hell—”

Just as he tried to lift himself, as she didn’t weigh that much to him, he felt a subtle nick in the side of his neck that made him freeze. He felt her arm, and whatever the cold feeling was, pressed deeper into his neck.

He didn’t have to do much thinking to figure out what that was. And he could see, hovering all around him and Elli, more evidence of what sharp object was seconds away from taking his life. 

Strung about on thin weaves of psionic energy was an array of scalpels and other knives of all shapes and sizes.

How the hell did this fail to make it in the reports? He was going to give some people the dressing down of their lifetime once he got out of this situation.

“Elli…” He said carefully as he fully adjusted his attention to her.

The look on her face was serious. Just a faint hint of anger lingered in those intensely glowing blue eyes that were filled with determination.

He swallowed hard as he felt her shift and press against his neck again.

“El—” He bit his tongue when she pressed again, and her brows furrowed, causing several wrinkles to form on her forehead. Okay, need to wait for her to talk.

She didn’t immediately speak. She continued to study his face. Drawing her face closer to his, she used her free hand to gently move his head back and forth. Her fingers traced the occasional feature, pulled on his eyelids, and forced open his mouth. The main twitched when her nail scraped against his teeth. Her nose wrinkled a few times as she continued her somewhat invasive examination.

Bradford did his best to comply and held his tongue whenever he noticed that nose or brow ridge wrinkle. Part of him was curious why she was doing this, but that sad and dark part of his mind had the most likely answer.

She still has her doubts. Especially after that mental break before I left.

The examination went on for a few more minutes before she drew her face back. But she kept her other arm pressed against his neck. Her right arm. Bradford finally noticed something wasn’t right.

Wait. His eyes darted over to that arm, and he saw it. Part of it. Swirling energies. Just below that golden band on that stump was a literal phantom limb constructed of psionic energy of various shades and opacities of blue. 

His throat clicked uncomfortably as that scalpel pressed against his neck. Eyes on her. Keep them on her. He shifted his attention back to her. Barely anything had changed with her expression.

“Do… not… tch.” Elli finally began to speak before she angrily cut herself off. Her throat trembled, a faint light twinkled in the obsidian diamond implant, as she made a few clicking sounds and opened her mouth again. “Do not… hm…” Her frustrations with her odd voice were apparent. The pitch shifted with every other word. “Do not speak… until I say… you can.” She finally forced the words out. “Got it?”

Bradford let a moment pass before he answered. “Affirmative.”

“Name. Full name, age, position, and rank.”

“John Bradford. 56. Operations officer. Central Officer.”

Elli’s eyes drifted about as she listened to him. Just as he finished, her nose wrinkled. That blade pressed again. 

Bradford grimaced. What now? He told her everything.

“One is… missing.”

Oh that. A position that was dropped onto him the moment he rejoined XCOM. He didn’t like to think about. Even more so with Elli back. It was looking to be a permanent position for him. Unless the others were still other there. “Commander. Acting Commander.” He just had to stress that. 

She gave a snort of satisfaction and removed some of the pressure on his neck.

“Where am… I?” Her eyes looked around. “Not a… facility… not somewhere… underground.”

Bradford chewed on the inside of his cheek. Seems she remembers some of the past. He didn’t want to think of what she remembered while in the Elders’ hands. “The Avenger. It’s a… repurposed alien ship.”

“Alien… ship…?” She questioned, looking around again. Nothing about it had that alien architecture she could recall. Smooth surfaces. Round shapes. A hexagonal patterning would be etched into most surfaces. Then again, who knew how many variations of ships that aliens had back then?

“We’ve done a great deal of remodeling over the years.” He said. “Don’t want to remember the previous occupants or the creators.” A sentiment shared by all the crew.

She let out another hm before giving a subtle nod of approval. “How was this… acquired? Security… security systems… ADVENT rules the air… And land… and sea…”

“It was abandoned. Shot down 20 years ago and never recovered. The aliens tend to do that with a fair amount of their resources. Lucky for us.” He stated what he could recall from what the others told him. Her saying security systems made his mood darker. She noticed. His chest tightened as his breathing hitched. The scalpel dug in a little.

She inclined her head to the side as she drew her face closer. Her eyes sparked with power. “Hiding… something?” 

He winced, not from the scalpel digging into his neck, but from the subtle probing she could feel against his mind.

“No… not exactly.” He failed to hold in a sigh, which only made her probe more. “Stop that!” Against his better judgment, he snapped at her, but thankfully, she didn’t push that knife in. The probing lightened.

Closing his eyes just for a second, he recomposed himself and pulled up the painful memories.

“Security systems,” he started, “there were some we… failed to find and disable. I was… out… leading an operation when they were triggered.” He recalled that as soon as he got back from the op and was told the news, despite being sleep deprived, he led a team around the ship to find any more of those hidden stasis pods so they could rid them of their occupants. Never again. “We… we lost some good men that day before we were able to re-secure the ship.”

He finished his tale, not even trying to hold in the long sigh that left him.

Raymond... You were already up in your years, and your health wasn’t great, but that took you too early from us. Glad you hung on just long enough until I came back and you were able to assist your daughter in finishing up some major components and plans to get this ship in the air. Even if it was temporary.

Just as he was letting himself sink into some dark thoughts, a sudden push and pierce into his mind made his eyes refocus on her. His lips pulled back into a sneer. He was opening his mouth to speak, but cleaved that tongue to the roof of his mouth when the scalpel pressed.

Hate psionics. Hate the probing. At least hers doesn’t feel like a Sectoids. I feel the doubt and subtle anger, but none of that maliciousness that a Sectoid has.

He waited it out. Feeling her catch and probe the memories of that day of his return. He felt an array of emotions from her and a few thoughts. First, there was more doubt. Could be fakes. They know how to make that. Then curiosity as the memories continued to play out. When she saw Shen Sr.’s face, confusion flooded her mind. He looks… familiar. Older. The confusion only grew and transitioned to sadness as she watched the old engineer’s last days. He looked so withered after what had happened. He was on his deathbed with his friends, with his daughter close by, before he finally passed. And then that grave maker. A few twinkles fail from her eyes.

No… no… no… these are too real to be fake. They claim they understand human emotion, but They don’t. This is too real. He’s… dead.

Bradford heard her thoughts for a while longer before she pulled back from his mind. Confusion and now sadness were apparent on her face as she looked all around and tried to blink away the tears streaming down her face.

He let out a subtle huff. That wasn’t the way he wanted her to learn of the man’s passing. He just hoped it didn’t damage her already fragile mental state.

Hm? He noticed there was a flicker in her powers. A few of those knives dropped for a second before another weave of psionic energy quickly caught them to keep up the deadly array. Even her arm was looking more transparent.

Hm. A little bit of the sound escaped his throat. His mind was formulating a plan. But would it be worth it?

Still letting her eyes wander, she wordlessly mouthed something for a few minutes. Hearing him clear his throat made her snap back to reality. She looked back at him. There was an innocent smile on his face. One that made her narrow her eyes.

His name is familiar and the same with his position and rank, but his face… Nothing rings a bell. Elli’s eyes continued to scrutinize his face. But… but… he could be like the old doctor. Aged by time.

She faintly acknowledged that. Tongue pushing against the back of her teeth, a few ideas popped into her head that made her nod to herself. 

Let me draw forth more “memories” to see who he truly is. Part of her still doubted what he told her. Doubted everything about this XCOM, thinking it was an elaborate ruse by the aliens. Wouldn’t be the first of those worst-case scenarios. Using me to train their drones on how to escape from situations like this if captured. Like They cared. “They can be remade.”

It took a while to pull herself from her souring thoughts.

“John… you said?” She asked.

“Yes.” He answered.

“Would your position… and ranking have been… the same in the past for this… XCOM?”

“Yes. Same then as now… just some differences…” He paused when her eyes narrowed. “We’ve had to employ more unconventional tactics, guerrilla tactics, to even have a chance of fighting back. Any tactics from the old days would be quickly subverted.” He explained before a snort slipped out. “Even our new tactics aren’t foolproof. We needed to be quick with our strikes before the System would figure out all of our faults before turning the tables and bodying us.”

“Hm.” She nodded. That sounded plausible.

She started probing his mind again, barely catching some memories of Outpost and Prison raids, and some Haven attacks, that quickly went sour if they stayed a second longer than they needed to once things went loud. She saw the close comrades he lost. Saw the injuries he sustained. A few should have outright killed him, but it looked like pure spite and luck kept him alive and going.

Hm… feels real… but… She still had her doubts. She needed to draw forth older memories.

“You said… same as back then… correct?”

“Yes.” He said, with a brow raised.

“Size of team? Worked with… other military organizations? Other… Branches?” She asked a few more questions.

As each question came, his brow raised more and more before it dropped, and his eyes narrowed. What is she going on about? He was having a hard time following her train of thought. He had to wait a bit before she finished.

But he answered her. “Hundreds of people, including other branches. When needed, we worked with other organizations, militaries, black ops, etc. The whole world was fighting for survival, and we were its backbone.”

He felt that uneasy weight of expectations twist and turn in his guts. A feeling that still haunted him as he was currently leading XCOM. Back then, he wondered how it didn’t drive him nuts with all the work he was doing 24/7. He had many sleepless nights, especially whenever he saw the aftermath of unfortunate abductees, before that hot iron seared that discomfort, only allowing him brief sympathies when appropriate, so it didn’t interrupt an operation or debriefing.  

I just know she and the others had it worse.

He remembered a few times he, his team, and the Medical staff had to force the Commander and Sub-Commanders to go to their Quarters to get a lick of sleep. He questioned how all four of them could work at a fairly coherent capacity, though they hadn’t fully slept in about three days. And what didn’t help some of those bouts of sleeplessness was when those troublemaking soldiers would catch wind of it and would pull off their pranks.

A snort of a sigh slipped out. He couldn’t lie; some of them were funny, but were completely unacceptable, as a few put the Commanders’ health in danger, and one almost killed one.

His eyes closed tight. He felt his throat go dry as it clicked painfully. Damn Chryssalid prank for Jynn after that one operation where we had to firebomb that unfortunate fishing village. That venom could have killed her if we hadn’t moved fast enough. 

Just as his heart fluttered, thinking about his best friend, a snort slipped out. 

And I thought the others had a mouth with how they dressed down the pranksters some hours later. Next thing we know, we hear some concerned shouting and in comes Jynn like a hurricane, dragging along that IV pole, and she was already breathing down Beckert’s neck. The words that came out of her mouth. Phew! She was half coherent with her multilingual rambling, but she had the mouth of a sailor, and worse, from what someone told me later, as they translated what she said. Took a lot to get her off him and the other idiots, and she nearly bit me.

Just a funny memory during those trying times. A funny memory to keep the sadness and longing in his heart at bay. He wondered if she was still out there and alive. How did the Australian base fare? He pushed those thoughts away as another darker one came to mind. A chance visit to one more or less confirmed the death of another Sub-Commander, even though a few told him to keep hope, as all they found was blood and no body. And another was suspected dead due to an ever-present psionic disturbance at the location of the base, though they hadn’t been able to check it out in person.

Just as he pushed that terrible memory back into its vault and shut the lock, he froze as his pupils shrank. She was probing again. Rather aggressively. 

No, no, no, she does not need to see that about Jynn. Throwing some other memories of the Old HQ her way, he quickly swept up all his love-sick thoughts for his childhood friend and shoved them into a vault — one close to another troubling secret he needed outside help to control. Feelings he never got to share with her. Feelings he should have told her back in high school before they went their separate ways in the military, keeping some form of correspondence via letters and emails, before fate would have them meeting back together at the full activation of XCOM. And then she was his boss.

A heavy, annoyed sigh slipped out. One was directed at Elli’s relentless probing, and the other at his feelings. Rules and regulations. Even if I shared it and she reciprocated, it would be too great a risk trying to dance around that and the damn Council. They were already hard asses and were fast to question how I knew the four already, especially Jynn, when someone… And he still wanted to find that rat. Noticed that us five were a little too casual with some of their conversations, and dug deeper to find out the truth and informed the Council. “Potential liabilities.” He scoffed at that.

Elli noticed the sudden push of other memories of the past being sent her way and caught hints of what he was currently thinking and locking away. She tagged a few but didn’t draw them back. She would investigate them later if what wasn’t being pushed her way didn’t satisfy. 

She unfolded the memories and began to score every detail of them. She could tell they weren’t perfect, which was understandable for human memories. We easily fabricate minor details or overwrite things without meaning to.

Another knock on these most likely being real and not fabricated. But They could still have been taken from another mind and imprinted into his. 

But as she continued to view them, she was slowly beginning to believe they were real. 

Wait, is that… She saw herself. That pristine dark green uniform. Her health was so much better, and she had a full head of hair compared to her current shaved state. But one thing she noticed that instantly bothered her was that she looked the same as she did now, minus the current health issues. She hadn’t looked like she had aged a day. And then hearing her voice made her throat tremble. A faintly strained rasp as if she smoked a good chunk of her life, but she could speak with confidence. 

How… how? Is that what I used to sound like?

Just as her mind was focusing on that detail, the memories drew her back in. 

She saw more familiar faces. Her subordinates. The Sub-Commanders. Thaddeus Seaver, Kamon Akí Anker, and Jynn Gresham Reeves. All of them had uniforms similar to hers, with only slight color and style differences that hinted at the previous military branch they respectively came from. Good people. Good friends. They helped balance the weight of the world, even more so when they were shipped out to the fledgling Sister Branches as each one came into operation. 

She saw others. The various workers, scientists, soldiers, and other personnel. Some she recognized better than others. Then she saw her dog. A Doberman. The second one she ever owned after her first, Callisto, came to the backyard that one dreary, rainy fall in her mid-teens. She felt like the dog was a guardian angel in disguise as they just instantly bonded. That dog helped save her life. 

 Nyx… She recalled the name of her beloved second pet, another Doberman. She fell in love with the particular breed ever since Callisto came into her life. She adopted Nyx when Callisto was getting up in age, and she had to leave the poor girl with a close friend when she started her military career. The dog was bored and missed her, so the second dog helped cheer her up, and it worked. She had no idea she would branch off into the path of a Dog Handler and was permitted to use Nyx as her main working dog. 

Still can’t believe they allowed me to bring her to this base once I was selected to become the Commander. Probably helped me stay sane and kept the worst of the pranks from happening to me. 

Just as she was getting lost in her thoughts, she saw his face. This John Bradford. 

The man was busy washing his face after a long night of operations. She recognized the face. Young and fairly bright-eyed, minus the lack of sleep pulling at his eyes. It was a stark shock compared to the one she had pinned underneath her. Older, grizzled, and seasoned by trauma. He always looked like he was ready to crack open a bottle after checking in on her every other day, and barely any progress was made.

Wait… wait… wait… No… this is him? Is this really him?

She blinked several times as her mind struggled to process the information. Before she even had a chance to properly digest it, an onslaught of horrible memories struck her. 

“No!” She screamed in her mind and out loud. They had her. 

The coordinated attack across all Bases. The mass mind control that arrested so many minds and tried to take her own, but she and… and… something else fought back and tried to free the others. A series of harsh barks from her dog Nyx, warned her and Bradford of the incoming wall of meat. She barely dodged the first attack in time. Nyx intercepted the second just as she and Bradford fired back at the walking tank. Her snarling went silent in an instant. Before she could even cry out her name, that Muton came down on her, and the world went dark. 

“No! No! No! Lõpetama!  Lõpetama!” She cried again, letting out a few words in her father’s native Estonian tongue. Her physical arm flew up to her head. Her memories began to overtake his, pulling forth the unspeakable tortures she suffered under the Elders’ “care” for years before the chip was forced into her brain. 

As the memories assaulted her, the psionic energy in the air flickered. There was one tink, followed by a clang. 

Bradford flinched as the rhythm of metal hitting the floor grew, especially with those far too close to his head. 

He could feel the turmoil swarming her mind and faintly glimpse it. Especially the surgeries she was partially conscious as those Elders had Their thralls remove organs or implant things into her. It made his heart hurt. 

He was about to speak until he felt something shift and that cold press against his neck fade. 

“Hm?” Glancing down, he noticed another flicker. 

That psionic phantom arm was losing cohesion. Parts of it grew erratic, jutting out spikes in various places, and had speckled holes forming in it like a breaking bubble.

This may be my only chance. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly pushed himself upwards. He hissed, feeling a faint nick against his neck, but it didn’t go deeper or pull across. 

Elli gasped before yelling as she flew back. 

His next movements were a blur as he had to carefully maneuver around the array of sharp objects littering the ground, and her psionics kicked it up a notch, nearly paralyzing him with pain. But with a fair amount of wrestling, he managed to pin her against the ground in a bear hug. 

“Calm down! I’m not going to hurt you, Elli!” He said, wincing as he felt her psionics bite at him. 

She struggled some more against his grip, but with those horrible memories still battering her mind, she eventually gave up. Her head dropped low as she just sniffled. Several tears fell from her eyes.  “Lõpetama…  Lõpetama…”

His hug tightened for only a moment before he loosened it slightly. He wasn’t quite sure what she was saying, but felt like she was pleading for the memories to stop. He could still feel them playing in her mind until everything suddenly went black for a long, long time. Then he saw his face, his current face, Dr. Tygan, Lily, and a few others. The day they found her and were pulling her out of the Suit. The rest of the memories drifted apart until they came to an end. 

Things were just silent. An eerie silence, just peppered by her sniffles. 

He gave her a gentle squeeze every once in a while as his eyes scanned the bathroom floor. Slowly, his eyes widened as he tallied all the sharp weapons she found. 

That’s more than forty. How the hell did the Medical staff not notice that at least 20 of their scalpels went missing? 

He was deeply glad she didn’t just decide to slit his throat as soon as she got the drop on him and wanted questions answered. Some being is looking down on me today. 

Just as he felt the last remnants of her powers leave his mind, he felt a few tugs and then a voice, if not a series of voices. 

As we have said before and time and time again, in those moments of darkness when you had peace from your imprisonment… The voice started in unison. Old comrades, old friends, would be your destined saviors. They are thus. Have been for ages. A vanquished flame arising from its ashes. Rising from the shadows of a broken world. They are who they are since the beginning and will rise again under your guidance. 

Hearing the voices unnerved him at first. It reminded him of how those Elders spoke. Many voices all at once. Several in unison, with a few trailing just behind. He had only heard it through hacked transmissions and never experienced it firsthand, and prayed he never would. But this… this sounded different. There were three speaking together versus hundreds of Them. Unlike the Elders’ cold indifference, these sounded warm, inviting, and comforting. He felt a strange calm fall over Elli and him. 

Though your body is battered and broken, rebuilt by the Builder to undo what he could when permitted, you will be made whole once more. Your other half, your dying light, will be found before it is snuffed out. And you will find the others. Their states are precarious as your own. For one, the abyss has already made bids for their soul through a Herald. But you must prepare, strengthen yourself for the battles ahead. The waves will not be kind, as one more terrible than the Elders has taken notice of this world due to Their negligence and greed. Heed not the calls of the deep that pull at your heart and pain, for it will drown you. 

Bradford was half-listening to the beings that spoke as he was trying to figure out just what it was and if he needed to hastily alert people to potential psionic trouble when he caught a few words that chilled him. He didn’t know what it meant, but did not like the sound of it. 

“The hell…” Mumbling, he slowly adjusted himself to get a better look at Elli. Her eyes were closed tight. She was still sniffling. 

Rest. Gather your strength. Keep that flame burning strong for this world and yourself. We will talk again, young one. 

The voices left one final message before the connection between him and Elli faded. 

It was just silence once more. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stewed in his thoughts before Elli began to squirm. Instinctively, he tightened his grip, thinking she was trying to break free and retaliate. 

“Let go of me, Johnny!” She growled. Her voice sounded more stable. Barely a hint of that pitch modulation peaked through. 

“Not until you calm down and – Johnny?” Hearing that nickname from her surprised him. 

He tightened his grip ever so slightly as he carefully drew his head around on her right side. She turned to face him. Her face was tear-stained, and her eyes were bloodshot. There was a subtle glow to her eyes. As annoyed as she looked, there was the faintest hint of relief in those strained eyes. Strained eyes that darted away for just a few seconds to reveal a layer of guilt. 

“Promise not to punch me or stab me if I loosen my grip?” He had to ask. 

She snorted. “Yes… wasn’t planning on killing you with the ambush… mostly.”

His brow twitched. “Mostly?”

“Do you want me to elaborate it, or can that smart brain of yours figure it out?”

Bradford thought for a few moments before rolling his eyes. “No funny business.”

Slowly, he loosened his grip on her before completely unwrapping his arms. 

Elli quickly pulled herself away, nearly falling on her right side, thinking the psi-limb was still there, before she quickly caught herself.  She took a moment to shake her stiff muscles. Taking a moment, she rubbed her face profusely with the skirt of her gown. There were a lot of curses at the memories that invoked the crying, and more curses were slung at the Elders. 

With a somewhat cleaner face, she looked back at him. Part of her still couldn’t believe just who he was. But the memories were real. 

“John.” She said. There was warmth to her voice. A second later, she pulled herself back over to him and hugged him. 

The man froze just for a moment before he returned the hug. They stayed like that for a long time before she finally pulled away. 

Though she now had a smile on her face, her overall demeanor was sullen. Her shoulders hung low, and her eyes darted to the ground several times. 

“Can’t believe it… can’t believe that it’s really you.” She said quietly. 

“Finally remembering me?” He asked with no hint of accusation. Then he noticed something, her voice sounded like it once did back then. “Your voice…”

She slowly nodded. “You… you look and sound different. And then… then…” Her voice began to waver, and just a hint of that pitch shift returned. Another hug silenced her. 

“Shh. Shh.” He hushed her. “I know. You’ve been through a hell I can’t even imagine. It was… it was okay to doubt. I’ve… I’ve been in your position.” He let a sigh slip out. “Doubted that XCOM was coming back after too many encounters with bandits running with the old name and colors.” He always hated that. They still had to deal with that on the odd occasion when reaching out to Havens and Cells. It was a pain to clear their name, but taking out the bandit trouble usually did the trick. 

A wordless mumble came from her as she refused to meet his eyes for a while. Her eyes bounced between the floor, her weapons, and his chest. Whenever they fell on his chest, she couldn’t help but look at his scars. The hardships he dealt with over those long years. 

His back has a gnarly burn scar on his right side. Wonder how he got that… Her mind was already lodging questions for later. 

As her eyes were slowly working their way back to his face, she saw a faint trickle of red running down his neck. She grimaced. 

“Sorry.” She squeaked out an apology. Raising her hand, there was a faint psionic ping before a towel appeared in her hand, and she pressed it against his neck. 

Bradford flinched for a second before he took over. “It’s okay.”

“No. It isn’t.” She shook her head. “If I were an inch more paranoid and angry, and interpreted your memories incorrectly… you’d be dead now.”

Nostrils flaring, he let out a rough snort. He didn’t want to argue. He could sense it would do nowhere. 

Her eyes refused to meet his again. She started inching off of him slowly as she turned her attention to the floor. 

“Let me… clean up this mess…” She quietly said. 

Using her powers, she worked to pick up the assortment of sharp weapons and neatly stack them into piles. 

Bradford watched her go to work. It was still a shock that she was a psion and seemed to have a fair understanding of how to use them. The doctors said she had the underlying markers that were further expressed and tweaked by the Elders. 

Moria would have loved doing some tests and throwing you into one of those Sarcophagi if she caught wind of those markets. Wait… He paused as he faintly recalled something. I think she did after some health checks. And the same with the others… Makes me wonder if that could have changed things back then. 

As his mind continued to focus on her powers, a few thoughts crossed his mind. Ones that made him close his eyes tightly and hold in a sigh as he recalled how he first experienced them. 

“Elli.” He said as he got back on his feet. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

“Hm?” She barely glanced back at him. “Yes?”

“Did you use your psionics to draw me in here?” Without that haze affecting his mind, he could remember he was dead set on throwing himself at his bed, and once he woke up, he was going to shower. After checking that pointless message, he suddenly felt uncomfortable in his own skin and just needed to shower. 

She froze for a second. As she did so, a faint, low-pitched whistle came out, and faint sparks of blue appeared in the room. 

Bradford’s body tensed. He felt those subtle pricks on his skin and nerves. A faint haze was forming in his mind. As quickly as it all happened, it dissipated. 

“…Yes.” She finally answered him, keeping her back facing him. 

“Elli…” He couldn’t say he wasn’t mad, as part of him was ticked for the mental violation, but she had her reasons. Taking a few steps forward, he kneeled and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not… too… mad.”

“Pretty sure you’re boiling under that weathered demeanor.” She grumbled. “You hate the touch of a psion.”

His eyes closed tightly before a sigh slipped out. “I am not. And… your powers were a hell of a lot more pleasant than a Sectoids.”

She didn’t respond. Just more grumbles came out. 

“Let’s get to my other questions…” He couldn’t tell that pressing the subject further would get nowhere. He gently encouraged her to stand up. Forgot how short she is… but I think she’s taller by a few inches. Just an observation his brain picked up. 

“Now,” he paused as he placed his hands on his hips, “how the hell did you escape the Infirmary, and why in the hell did you steal all of those?” He gestured to the stacks of knives and scalpels. 

It took a moment before she finally turned to face him. She had a crooked grin showing some of her misaligned teeth. 

“Security needs work. The old guards would put these new bloods to shame.” There was no remorse in her voice. “And these,” she raised her hand briefly to produce her psionics, “helped a bunch.”

She proceeded to explain how she studied to schedules of everyone to the best degree she could, and tested the lower limits of those psionic detectors before she put her plan in action. 

It only took a slight touch of her powers to distract the few of the workers in the Infirmary so she could slip out of the room they had her in. She had to press them a bit more to get past the guards, which didn’t go as smoothly. She pushed too far and set off one of the detectors, forcing her to unleash more of her powers to disable everyone before she ran. 

She never stepped off the ship; she wasn’t that dumb, and instead found a few places here and there on the ship to stowaway and figure out where she was.

“And what is it with all the various alcohol caches hidden around the ship?” She couldn’t help but voice the observation with some concern. Seeing Bradford’s eyes widen and his throat constrict only made her more concerned.

“We’ll… talk about that later.” He grumbled.

She nodded and went back to explaining her escape.

 It was a careful game of cat and mouse, slipping out of her hiding holes to steal food, some blankets, pants, and some weapons. While doing that, she also explored various parts of the ship, his Quarters included. 

Bradford asked about the scalpels and knives. Especially the excessive amount she had amassed. 

She shrugged. She always liked knives and felt like she needed more than one as she was formulating a plan to corner one of the important-looking people. Since at the time, he was off the ship, she set her sights on one of the other Senior Staff members. But as soon as she caught wind that he was back, she knew he was the head of the operations with how the others deferred to him. He would get the answers she wanted. 

“Had to tap at a few brains to track your progress through the ship. Hid in the bathroom once you were nearly here and waited for the right moment to use my powers.” She finished up her story. As she grinned more, the flesh on her jaw and neck trembled slightly as parts of it began to slide back. No whistling happened.

“Hm.” Just a faint grumble came out as his throat trembled. He was seeing that they had to redo their security, and he needed to check all parts of a room before he could relax.

Looking down at her, he noticed her flesh revealed those strange bio-organic implants; he couldn’t help but focus on them. He had a lot of questions and knew the science teams had more. 

He gestured to her face before speaking. “You don’t have to answer this, but do you have any clue why you have those… implants?”

Her smile disappeared as a thin line replaced it. Her cheeks puffed out as she poked at the open slats and let her nails scrape against the holes. It was oddly cold and smooth, hard, but had a slight give.  She was silent as her eyes drifted around. 

“No idea.” She shrugged before a sigh slipped out. “Brains foggy about that minus…” Her eyes shifted up and to the left as she tapped at her cheek. 

“Minus?” He gestured for her to continue. 

“This will sound weird.” She gave him a brief warning before taking a breath to steady herself. 

“‘This will be your Siren song, an extension of one way your gift leans.” As she spoke, her voice began to shift. It became male. It was much softer to a near whisper with a faint rasp to it as well as a faint echo. Her eyes began to glow until the whole eye was consumed by blue. Slowly, she shifted her posture, straightening herself up and putting both arms behind her back. 

She inclined her head to one side, like a thoughtful professor, and continued. “‘You will find your auxiliaries, a hidden gift from me They won’t be able to find…” She paused, shifting her head to the other side as a wide, unnatural grin crept across her face. One a trickster would wear. “And will recite the tune that will harmonize your souls and reinvigorate your spirit, and likewise with those that seek liberation.” There was another pause as she looked away. That grin disappeared only to be replaced by a worried, strained frown. She gritted her teeth. “And… perhaps… they will be a buffer from that abyss that calls. You must keep walking.’” 

Hearing the voice shift unnerved Bradford, even more so when Elli’s eyes began to glow, and it seemed like a whole new personality took her over. Hesitantly, he took a step forward, reaching a hand out to her, but an increased brightness in her eyes made him stop.

“‘Keep walking, child. The ill-fated, twisted dance of life, death, and oblivion will beckon you, and so will the calls. Reject it. May those who refuse to sleep be of aid. Keep walking. Remember that, my child. You must keep walking.’”

Just went it seemed like this odd possession was coming to an end, her body suddenly went rigid. Those hidden slats on her neck and face reopened. As she opened her mouth, unholy noise came out. It sounded like a screeching metal followed by several twangs before it died down to a faint thrum with a few pings. Then she finally spoke.

“So’govoth. Ec’tash esche o’vota’ka ‘adows.  Oshe ‘asta so’gov… Mak’Symmatra?” The voice was harsh, accompanied by many metallic twangs after each harsh consonant. 

As swiftly as this came on Elli, the strange alien language came to an end, and so did the possession.

She blinked her eyes a few times before they returned to their normal blue with a faint glow. She wobbled for just a second before she steadied herself. She raised a hand to her throat and began to vigorously rub it.

“Argh… Why does this hurt?” She roughly cleared her throat a few times.

“Do you… Do you know what you just said?” Bradford hesitantly approached her.

She raised a brow. “Explained whatever one of the… nicer… Elders working on me did for these.” She pointed at her neck and face. The idea of one of those control freaks being nice still boggled her mind, but she faintly remembered when he worked, she was in less pain, and he was kind.

“Not that! It was — What nicer?” He caught that before shaking his head. Not important. Ask later. “Ignore that, it was after that. Your voice shifted again, and it sounded like a scrapyard before you started speaking in some harsh, metallic alien voice.”

Elli pulled her head back as her lips pressed together. She searched her mind, but nothing came up. “I have… no idea what you are talking about.”

That made Bradford’s brow twitch. He placed both his hands on her shoulders. “We are going to have a long series of talks, and the doctors are going to have a hell of a time poking at your brain.”

Nose wrinkling, she closed her eyes and snorted. She didn’t like the sound of the latter. With her long imprisonment and countless surgeries she suffered, the last thing she wanted to deal with intimately was the doctors. Even if it was for the good of her health. But a thought crossed her mind. It made her heartache, but the thought of speaking it made a grin creep across her face.

“Only if I can get a dog to help with therapy.” To her slight annoyance, her voice shifted around a few pitches as she expressed her giddy idea.

“Wha—” It caught Bradford off guard for a few seconds before he shook his head. It didn’t take long for his brain to figure out why she brought up an animal, as memories of the past were still near the forefront of his mind.

“Of all things you could say...” He shook his head.

“I’m not asking for a Doberman. Any dog could do. But if we do stumble across a Doberman…” Her voice trailed off, but there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Elli… no.” Bradford didn’t want to entertain it. If they brought a dog on board for her, that would get several others trying to bring pets on board. That always caused trouble. He was running a Faction, not an animal shelter.

“Well, if a dog can’t work, I’m fine with something alien. There are some pretty neat and more tame creatures some of the aliens use in their patrols.”

His brow twitched. That was a crazier suggestion. “Elli!”

She just laughed. But she was entirely serious. She wanted a dog again, or some sort of pet that could be a help for her psyche and be a bodyguard. She had a sinking feeling that she would have to deal with certain characters if she was going to lead XCOM once more.

————————————

Still feeling all sorts of extremely grimy due to the psionic trick Elli played on his mind, and he was barely feeling tired due to adrenaline coursing through his system, but expected it to hit him sometime soon when he least expected it, he kicked her out of the bathroom so he could freshen up. It took him about 10 minutes to do so. When he came out, wrapped in a towel, he wasn’t surprised to see her at the computer and looked like she had figured out a few passwords and was snooping about. He quickly made a few mental notes to update them.

Getting some clothes on first, he then proceeded to kick her off his computer so he could send an update to all parties.

[Central:] Commander located. Call off the searches and return to previous duties on the double.

He then sent a group message to a select few individuals.

[Central:] Elli ambushed me in my room to interrogate me. She is fine after the… strange… interrogation. Dr. Veer and Dr. Marin, I would like you to come up here at your earliest convenience. Bring your portable equipment. Especially your psionic stuff, Marin. Same with you, Shay. Bring up a fresh gown and some food for her. Think she could use another familiar face. Oh, and get those booster shots just in case, doctors. 

As soon as he finished, Elli was already poking at his brain, both figuratively and literally, with a litany of questions concerning some of the files, personnel, and operation plans she gleaned.

For the current time, he refused to answer them. He was tired, tired of questions, and tired of the psionic probing. It took a lot of talking and some promises to help her simmer down. He would pace out the answers in the coming days as he felt like she needed some time to digest them and had a faint feeling she was trying to block out something that was bothering her. She was jumpier than she was since she ambushed him.

There was a risk, but he broached one touchy subject. Her voice. He pointed out she was starting to sound like herself again and was speaking with little hesitation. There was only a slip-up here and there.

She was silent for some time before acknowledging his observations. Just seeing his memory of her in the past seemed to be the help she needed to find her voice again. But part of her was still unsure if she could ever fully match it again. To her, she still sounded off when she spoke. 

Bradford was unsure what to say, but faintly said he believed the feeling would pass with some time.

Just before the doctors and Shay arrived, Bradford found Elli breathing down his neck. Just before he kicked her off the computer, she had seen a few chats that had her blood boiling.

With eyes burning a vicious blue, she was currently jabbing a finger into the man’s chest. 

“A blanket wide rule. No one is to refer to me as Antonov-Ferro or Ferro. Just Antonov. You go it?” Her voice was laced with a subtle rage that kept her voice steady.

Bradford raised his hands for just a second before placing them on her shoulders. “Calm down!” For just a moment, he wondered what triggered such anger towards her hyphenated last name before it clicked. The death glares she gave back in the day. “Calm down! I’ll make sure that happens.”

Her eyes narrowed as she jabbed her fingers a few more times. “You recall why?”

He let out a gruff snort. “I do. Now stop that.”

Wrinkling her nose, she finally retracted the offending finger and backed out. “Just Antonov.” She repeated.

“I know, I know.” He rolled his eyes. “I remember the death glares you gave those who kept using Ferro and the stories you told about your horrible mother.”

She scoffed at the mention of her birth mother. “Horrible barely scratches the surface.” She pointed at her neck, which made him wince. “Don’t miss her. The only thing I wish upon her is that she died swiftly during the Invasion.” Her voice dropped into a cold indifference as her eyes narrowed with hate. As quickly as the harsh mood came on her, her features softened before becoming sullen. 

She hugged herself before a sigh seeped out. “I… I hope my father and the better siblings are still alive… somewhere out there.” A faint heh slipped out as she shook her head. A few glints raced down her face. “Who am I kidding with my dad? He’s probably dead, considering what his age would be by now… But my siblings… They could still be alive. Free and roughing it or… living blind in one of those gilded cages.” She wasn’t sure which one she preferred for her siblings, but quietly prayed they were fine.

Bradford didn’t say anything. He just gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Anything dealing with family was rough. He missed his family every day and knew several onboard shared the same feelings. A faint thought entered his mind. Maybe that was something XCOM could put a few resources into to see if any of her family was still alive. Think I have one of the “obscure” IOUs from the Void Walkers I could redeem. Need to get in contact with Nithrall. He saved the idea for later.

The fated knock on the door came, and Bradford went to answer it. It was the doctors and Shay. Elli wasn’t too thrilled seeing the equipment that was being brought in, but kept her mouth shut. It was for the best to make sure nothing was wrong with her. 

Due to probing Bradford’s brain earlier, she was beginning to recognize Shay, but the memories were still distant. She also started to recognize Dr. Marin, more so when he began yapping about her psionic readings and how Moria would be salivating that those health checks they ran back then were right about the Commander being a latent psion.

Things became a little weird once Bradford began to explain the interrogation stunt she pulled on him and bits and pieces of the following conversation once things calmed down Shay couldn’t help but laugh as she couldn’t believe someone as small and weak as Elli managed to keep him down, but it seemed it was the boon they needed to break most of the fog and doubt in her mind. Though she was shocked, a few snorts slipped out when the amount of sharp weapons was stated. The doctors were horrified. 

Elli meekly apologized, but she needed answers. She sent a telepathic message to him, thanking him for keeping the stranger details of the interrogation and the following conversation to himself. She wasn’t ready to talk about that. He gave her a subtle nod.

The checkup lasted for about two hours as several scans were being run to monitor her psionic levels. 

By then, the adrenaline had finally worn off for Bradford, and the man was knocked out on the largest couch. The doctors were about ready to escort her back down to the Infirmary; the mere mention of that place made her eyes glow. Before she could snap, Shay butted in. Though the Commander’s Quarters wasn’t fully ready for her, and she shot the knocked-out Bradford a look, she felt like a night or two away from the Infirmary would do her some good.

Marin objected lightly as a harsh glare from the Commander made him freeze. Her health still needed to be monitored, especially the psionic aspect.

Veer was tentatively supportive of the idea. Though she pointed out that Elli had a few nights away from the Infirmary, she also noted that she was under duress while hiding from them. A night or two could be beneficial for her psyche, which in turn would help her physical health down the line. She just had a few stipulations that needed to be followed, and Marin reluctantly agreed. 

They would leave some of the equipment up here to keep her wirelessly monitored by them. And then they would set up a few psionic sensors. The moment one of those things went off, she would be taken back down to the Infirmary.

Elli wrinkled her nose but agreed to the rules. She liked the idea of being away from the Infirmary. It was keeping unpleasant thoughts at bay.

————————————

The doctors got everything set up before leaving. Shay stuck around per Elli’s request. She had some questions and wanted to try and jog her memories concerning her and the survivors from XCOM. Shay was happy to oblige. They had to move over to the bed as Bradford’s snoring grew louder by the second. 

Despite the snoring disturbance, their conversations went fairly smoothly. Nibbling on the food Shay brought, Elli’s memories were still foggy or completely lacking, but bits and pieces slowly came back together as Shay shared detail after detail about certain personnel and story after story.

Elli had to ask if they had any luck finding the others, and wasn’t surprised by Shay’s sad mood as soon as the words left her lips. No luck yet. 

In truth, they suspected Kamon was dead, as the Nigerian base was the only one they had been able to make it back to. But, since all they found was blood and no body, they had some hope he was still alive, just captured like her. They also suspected Thaddeus was dead. The area in China, Hunan, where the base was located in had suffered a catastrophic psionic disturbance that left the area uninhabitable. Even ADVENT and the psionic-using aliens avoided the area.

Elli noticed she failed to mention Jynn and asked about her. Elli shrugged. Worrying about finding her and those relatively close to the Avenger’s current location between Africa and Europe, they hadn’t been able to send any probes over to Australia, or ask any questions from their various contacts. Jynn’s status was as much of a mystery as the rest. 

Elli caught Shay’s eyes glancing over to Bradford, every once in a while, as she talked about Jynn. She found that odd until there was a subtle push and pull on her brain, and a faint bond of a string that was plucked, that jogged a few memories from the past and some emotions she sensed when probing Bradford’s brain.

“Kurat.” She cursed under her breath as she buried her face in her hands. Faintly sensing that Shay was about to ask a question, she raised a finger. It took her a few seconds to recompose herself, but as she raised her face, a brow was twitching.

“The damn spook still has his crush for Jynn, huh?” She said. There was no malice towards Bradford.

Shay’s eyes widened slowly as her lips twitched. “You noticed?”

“Wasn’t hard not noticing his faint slip-ups.” She snorted. “Think Thadd and I picked up within two months. Not sure about Kamon.” Though she recalled he was averse to romance as she was due to their shared familial traumas. “Just can’t believe Jynn never picked up on it.”

A nasty laugh slipped out from Shay. Once, she had to clamp her hands on her mouth to stifle it. It took her a bit to recompose herself. “That’s what some of us said back then!” Another laugh wanted to jump out. “Especially, Corvo. Man, he loved teasing Bradford whenever he could, especially when she was within earshot.”

Just a faint memory came to the forefront of Elli’s mind. A time when she and the others could relax for just a moment. Jynn had just finished telling a story of her childhood due to Bradford bringing up an incident her brother was responsible for. Jynn was called away for a second to check on some requests from the R&D team while the others were still chatting about the crazy story. Elli couldn’t recall what led up to Corvo’s comments, but it left Bradford sputtering and caused an uproar with those who knew about the crush.

A snorted laugh slipped out as the memory came to an end. Something happy and funny. But… Her eyes drifted off to where Bradford was before she looked back at Shay.

“Have those… feelings… been a problem?” Elli had to know. 

Shay closed her eyes and nodded. “On the rare occasion. It’s gotten better over the years, especially once Dr. Veer joined us and worked her therapy magic. And again, when we got some young recruits.” The corners of her lips twitched before a grin took over. “Who knew Bradford just needed a ‘little sister’ to help him kick his drinking habit.”

Elli’s brows twitched. Not out of irritation, but of surprise. The drinking habit is new. Explains his reaction to my question about the hidden alcohol caches. She made a mental note of that before coming back to the “little sister” statement. “What about this ‘sister’?”

“Dimitri Akram. You’ll meet her soon. She’s a part of the Communications/Operations teams. A quirky young gal full of spunk.”

She raised a brow. “That sounds like a guy’s name.”

“She’s a woman. Her choice. Says it’s her way of not forgetting her adopted dad.” Shay looked away as she recalled the story Dimitri told them after she was pressed on what her name truly was. “Especially after the sacrifice he made to make sure she and their little group escaped an ADVENT ambush.” 

“Huh… Alright.” Elli slowly nodded. She was already jotting down several questions for the future. She wondered how many others had similar reasons behind their names or other quirks.

Just as she was getting lost in her thoughts again, Shay continued talking.

“And if Jynn is dead… or if we find her and she rejects him…” Shay hoped neither would happen. The man had been through enough. “He kinda has someone else out there that may still be interested in him.”

Elli raised a brow before she pulled herself closer to Shay. “Talk. Every single last detail.”

Shay snorted. She felt like she was back in middle school when she and some friends would talk about their last school or celebrity crush. 

“Bradford was leading a small team back in the US, in Florida. They gathered some intel and found something Lily was looking for, when they picked up a distress call from one of the local Skirmisher clans. A Haven they were protecting. One that we had been trading some details over the local ADVENT routes. As soon as he saw the smoke, Bradford didn’t hesitate to go and provide some assistance. It left him with some nasty scars, but solidified an alliance with that local clan and saved many lives.”

Shay began to tell the story in full detail. It was a rough night for Bradford and his squad. As usual, ADVENT had the numbers and tactics advantage, but they also had to deal with some other mysterious unit being fielded. It quickly figured out Bradford was the leader of his small group, hounded him, and cornered him. They had him and were starting to tear into his brain and seemed to know him when that undying menace, Jax-Rai, appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the unknown unit, announced their “sortie was done” and teleported away, much to the unit’s dismay.

Confusing barely touched what had just happened, but it seemed the sudden removal of that one unit threw the tactical rhythm of the remaining ADVENT force off. XCOM and the Skirmishers pressed the advantage to rescue as many Haven survivors as they could before they made their escape. It took some days, but with the Skirmisher’s help, they found a more secure location where the people could restart their lives.  

“And that’s when he met her. Mena and her kids. He wasn’t smitten at first. Took some months before something clicked, but his feelings for Jynn won out in the end.” Shay let out a bemused snort. How the heart could be strange. “Mena never took offense. She was still grieving her husband. But she helped him sort out his emotions and was another person to help him work on his drinking habit.”

Elli listened intently, making little notes here and there for future questions. 

“I will…” Elli paused as she carefully searched for the right words. “Keep this all in mind for when I have to have that chat with John. Thanks for the enlightenment.” 

“Welcome, boss.” Shay smiled. 

Shay then glanced down at her watch. “Think I’m gonna have to leave ya. Have some training lessons I’m in charge of and need to check on Royce and his team to see what the Armory needs.” Though she had shifted positions to become one of the Training Officers/Drill Instructors, occasionally she would tap back into her old position as an Armourer.

Elli nodded. “That’s fine. I think I’ll be taking a nap soon, or just may,” she looked over to the computer, “may do some light reading.”

Shay softly laughed. “Don’t think you’re fully authorized for that.”

Elli only grinned.

“I’ll swing back around in some hours with some food for you and the dead man snoring.” Shay gave Elli a playful nudge before she got up and left.

Elli finished eating a rather bland sandwich and some veggies before she moved the tray away. Her mind was still swirling with many thoughts she was slowly getting them in order.

She winced before she let out a long, loud yawn. Tiredness was suddenly encroaching on her limbs and mind. She shook her head a few times to try and knock it away, but it only made things worse.

“A… A nap is in order.” She mumbled to herself. Staying awake would be a bad idea, and she hadn’t been properly sleeping since her little escape escapade. 

It didn’t take long for her to get comfortable in the bed. Within a few blinks, sleep finally took her. 

In all, it was hard to tell if he was truly being cooperative or testing them in each session. He never put up a physical fight, and it wasn’t like he could due to several reasons, but he tried their patience in several other ways. Sometimes, every other word with switch to a different language taking them some time to string together whatever he was saying. Sometimes, he would only speak in the Elders’ language, which XCOM was still deciphering. And some days, he wouldn’t speak at all and just give them his signature plain-faced disinterested stare. Even with the surviving Senior Staff that worked closely with him during the Invasion, they had trouble deciphering what his mood was. 

“Again!?” Someone shouted. The sounds of shoes squeaking across the floor intensified. “Where did he get that bottle and glass from!?” They questioned. A few psionic pings and curses followed.

Kamon was currently trying their patience again with his new, concerning habit. 

It all started a week ago when Bradford, Dr. Veer, and some other Senior staff were trying to rouse old memories and see if he recalled anything while imprisoned. It was a mostly unsuccessful venture as it seemed any of his memories of his time leading XCOM were shot, and he ignored any mention of that Stasis Suit — that was reasonable. Dr. Veer felt like he was recalling something, but was unsure if he was knowingly or unknowingly suppressing it. She could see the slightest change in his eyes and noticed a few odd ticks in his brainwave patterns, but that constant, disinterested face he wore made it difficult for her to be sure. She wanted to tap at his mind with her psionics and gently tap at a few centers of his mind to see if she could find just a strand of memory, but with how he tuned out all mentions of that suit she had a feeling he would not react well to psionics. She would try another time when he was more responsive. Or maybe sooner than she thought. 

Just as their unfruitful discussions with him were winding down, and they were conversing amongst themselves to make a few plans of attack for future sessions, they had left Kamon alone for just a moment. A few seconds later, two distinctive psionic pings rang in the room. None of the psionic sensors went off, but everyone was searching for the source until they were the popping of a cork and liquid being poured. Heads whipped around. It was Kamon. The man somehow had a bottle of wine in his hands and was pouring a fair amount of the glistening red liquid into a wine glass sitting in front of him. Everyone was so stunned, too busy trying to figure out where the bottle and glass came from until someone finally snapped to and tried to take it from it. That’s when they found out he was a psion.

“Oh, for the love of—! Why haven’t we collared him?” Another worker cursed.

“Orders from the doctors and Central forbid us from doing so.” One worker wisely stood by the sidelines since they knew how this would usually play out.

“That’s a load of — HEY!”

Like back then, currently, Kamon was currently playing a game of cat and mouse with the doctors and workers. Whenever someone tried to snatch the wine glass or bottle, he’d teleport them out of their reach and to another side of the room or he would teleport himself and everything to another part of the room. This would continue on and on until either he had his fill — which, thankfully, was always what he just poured — or they finally gave up and left him alone.

The doctors didn’t like this developing habit as they were still running tests to see what the Elders had done to his genetic makeup and feared he may have similar restrictions the Hybrid faced when it came to alcohol. Bradford didn’t like this habit. He thought back on Veer saying she felt he was subconsciously recalling what had happened and possibly recalling the time of his imprisonment. The last thing he wanted, the last thing XCOM needed, was their leader developing a drinking habit. 

“He’s missing an arm and a leg and is still keeping them off of him.” Virgil Defoy said. His lips trembled and his eyes squinted as he tried to hold back a laugh. “What is this, like the 10th time so far this week, mate?”

Bradford let out an annoyed sigh as he shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’ve stopped keeping track.”

Bradford and Virgil were standing just at the door frame watching the all too familiar scene play out. It was like watching some vintage cartoon as their disabled Commander would teleport from one side of the room to the other, even planting himself on the ceiling to stay out of their reach so he could enjoy his drink.

“Any clue how he keeps getting them since, ya know, he’s been confined to the Infirmary since we rescued him?” It was a pointless question, but it had been bothering Virgil. “Cuz’ our brewin’ gals and pals are getting might-ty annoyed wondering who has been pilfering their stock used for trading and the crew.” Keeping news of who the culprit from spreading was growing more and more difficult with each snatched bottle. “And same with the bargoers wondering why their favorite drink is missing for sum hours.”

Bradford shook his head again. All he could muster was a shrug. “We’re still trying to figure that out, but suspect it has something to do with his psionics.” Doctors Marin and Quinn had been floating around some theories that Kamon could be subtly reaching out with his psionics to map the ship since no one had reported any headaches. “I know. Warren’s already told me he’s going to strangle whoever has been touching his mead stock and those in progress.”

He snorted. “Man, oh, man… the mountain man is pissed. Took him forever to get all that honey besides getting ‘em hives set up at those Havens.” He then pulled at his salt and pepper goatee before smacking his lips. “And why are you guys still allowing this?”

Bradford let out a pained sigh as his eyes closed for just a moment too long. A brief memory of weakness flashed behind his eyes — one that caused his eyes to snap back open. Not now. “So far, it looks like his genetic makeup hasn’t been altered like the Hybrids, so he won’t suffer from the poisoning effect.” And he was counting his blessings it would stay that way. “And he’s been a little more cooperative as of late. Still not talking as much as we would like, but much more cooperative.” A sigh slipped out. “Just happy he’s not violent.”

“In-ter-rest-ing.” He mumbled. “Real in-ter-rest-ing.”

A series of psionic pings preceded a loud crash; a worker had plowed into some chairs, knocking them into a table, and some equipment was scattered about.

“Ridiculous… why do they keep trying?” Bradford grumbled. Though he had tried a few times to snatch the alcohol away when it had first started. It was like the man had a sixth sense — and he did — as Bradford always tried to snatch the drink or bottle away when he least expected, but was always thwarted. 

“Think it’s about time we stepped in?” Virgil asked. Bradford nodded.

“You’ve got those collapsable shot glasses on you?” He asked.

Virgil raised a brow but with his hand had fiddled with one of his many keychains around his waist and unhooked two half-inch disks. He raised them, unscrewed one, and popped it open to its full height. “Always got em’. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of…” He didn’t finish his sentence but was smirking.

Bradford nodded. “Want to see if he’ll talk more if we join him.”

Several more psionic pings and another slew of curses made Bradford’s brow twitch. With another disappointed shake of his head, he adjusted his earpiece before letting out a grunt as he marched forward. Virgil followed just behind him.

“That’s enough!” His raised voice made everyone in the room freeze. Everyone, except Kamon, who had just teleported back to a chair and table. Glowing blue eyes focused on Bradford and Virgil as he casually sipped his drink.

“Everyone get out!” Bradford barked. “You know the damn protocols, so why the hell do you even keep trying?”

“Sir! The alcohol poses a ri—” Someone tried to argue back, but he cut them off.

“With the amount he’s had for the past week, and God knows what we haven’t caught, I think he would have gone blind by now and died if he had a Hybrid’s genetic makeup. Now, leave.”

The workers reluctantly left. 

Scanning the room, Bradford shook his head again. It was a mess. Various equipment and medical instruments were turned over. His eyes narrowed when he spied a familiar dampening collar resting on Kamon’s bed. “Really?” He soon grumbled he was going to discipline the idiot who snuck that in. He went over to get the thing and tossed it out of the room.

Virgil made himself busy by cleaning up the mess the best he could. He stumbled across a few bottles hidden under a bed and took a moment to examine them. “Huh, not too much missing ‘cept for these three.” He mumbled before he whistled over to Bradford and waved them. “Looks like our boy has got a sweet tooth and one with a bit of a kick. Warren’s gonna be pissed he found his hot honey mead and the muscadine wine.” He laughed.

Bradford rolled his eyes. Something to worry about later. “Ignore him.” He said a bit under his breath to Kamon.

With the room a little neater, the two finally turned their attention to Kamon. 

“Sorry about that. I know that’s not the best way to start one’s morning…” Bradford was the first to speak as they both went over. He made sure the translation program was going for his tablet and earpiece before placing the tablet on the table, facing the screen away from Kamon. “They mean well concerning your well-being, but their approach is lacking tact.”

Kamon raised a brow as he continued to sip. There was a faint nod and a snort that followed.

Looking at his old friend, his old boss, was hard in several ways. He always had trouble reading Kamon’s mood, as even back in the day; it was always this mixed default plain, to unamused, to disinterested look. A faint funny but painful thought crossed his mind as his fellow Sub-Commanders had trouble reading his emotions for the first month before they finally picked up the subtle changes to his expressions.

 But right now, he wished the man would show just a shred of some other emotion. Happiness. Sadness. Hell, even some anger. But it was just nothing. Was it apathy? Indifference? I faintly recall he had some nerve damage in his face, but he emoted back then even with a bit of struggle. He just wasn’t sure.

Just what did the Elders do to you? Bradford couldn’t help but look at some of the most obvious mutilations his old friend suffered. Besides some light surgical scars found across his body marking the “standard” the Elders held by “improving” or “punishing” various species, from the doctors’ scans, it didn’t look like Kamon was missing any “non-vital” organs. The very mention of that made Bradford and a few other Senior staff shutter as they recalled those alien autopsies and those unfortunate civilians found on those surgery tables onboard the UFOs and those alien strongholds popping up more and more during the Old War.

But the Elders did perform some kind of major surgery on the Commander. Kamon’s left arm was missing above the shoulder black and his right leg was missing just at the knee. It seemed like the Elders had plans on giving him prosthetics, as both areas had visible and hidden integration ports.

Then on the sides of his head, he had these golden diamond-shaped implants, four on each side, and then one last diamond-shaped implant resting at the base of his neck that had one of the standard ports in the center and then some more of that golden metal ran underneath the diamonds. 

And then his face. The man already had scars littering the left side of his face and body, which Bradford had come to learn through gossip was caused by his estranged family, but his capture left him with a few new searing jagged red scars that looked like someone tried to crack his face open.

And I swear he was a little shorter than me back then… still oddly tall for his ethnicity... He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that his old boss was somehow taller. He had yet to see the man stand at his full height due to missing a leg, yet just with how he sat in that chair, it looked like he had grown a few inches. A snort slipped out as a funny thought popped into his mind. Remember, genetics can be weird. Think of Jynn and her brother, Charles. African American and Japanese with a whole lot of other stuff. If you didn’t study their faces, you would never be able to tell they were related. Heh. So must be the Dutch in him.

“Mind if we join ya?” Virgil asked. Popping open the other shot glass he gave both a little shake, causing the metal plates to rattle, and smiled. “We won’t be killjoys like those folk! Hell, it may be more fun chattin’ over drinks! Loosen’ up a bit since, ya know, drinks will make ya spill the truth!”

“Virgil, that’s a little too—”

Two psionic pings rang out. Appearing on the table in bursts of blue light were two wine glasses and another set of bottles.

Both looked at each other before looking at Kamon. Kamon’s expression barely changed. Those glowing blue eyes glanced at them, then the glasses, and back at them, and last, the chairs.

Virgil snickered. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He was already sitting down. Bradford just rolled his eyes and sat down.

Virgil was already grabbing one of the new bottles and reading the label. A snort followed by a loud laugh broke the silence. “Warren’s gonna be pissed.~” He sang. “‘Nother one of his experimental meads. A spicy, spiced berry. One he and Memento have been collaborating on.”

Bradford felt like his eyes were going to roll out of his head before the hour was over. “I’ll contact those Void Walkers to see if they can get him a barrel full of honey or whatever he wants.” He soon grumbled. “And Memento whatever she wants when she’s back with us. Praying no one has killed any of her plants… again.”

The comment about dead plants got Virgil snickering. “Memento wouldn’t have to do any of the threatening if that happened. Warren’s in charge when she’s gone. And just about everyone on here would be after the culprits since it IS nice to have some fresh veggies and fruits not touched by ADVENT and ’em Elder bastards.”

Bradford nodded to that. “Amen to that.”

As Virgil was making motions to open the mead bottle, with a psionic ping, the bottle disappeared from his hand and reappeared next to Kamon.

“What ta hell, mate?” Virgil raised a twitching brow. “Thoughtcha was fine with us—”

Another ping and flash of blue went off inside the bottle, causing the cork to shoot out. Kamon took one last big sip of his drink before setting it down. He then picked up the bottle. To their surprise, he didn’t pour himself more, instead, he looked at Virgil, the glass in front of him, and then gestured for him to bring it to him.

“Oh?” Virgil asked as he raised his glass. Kamon nodded. “Oh. Heh, heh, heh.”

Once the glass was within reach, Kamon poured him a fair amount. He then looked at Bradford and made the same gesture.

Bradford looked at his glass and then that bottle. He could feel that yearning for a stiff drink biting at his throat. Not too much. Don’t need to have that taste drag me to the bar later. Rather have something else right now, but hopefully, this more ‘casual’ talk will make him talk more. “Less than him.” He said as he moved his glass over to Kamon.

Kamon simply nodded and gave him much less than Virgil. With mead in the glass, Bradford pulled it back, but unlike Virgil who had already finished his glass and was back for more asking for the other bottle to be opened, he didn’t touch it. 

Just as Bradford was about to speak, Kamon finally said something in a mix of languages. His voice was still somewhat hoarse and not as deep as it once was.

“››May I have pen and paper?‹‹“

It took a moment for Bradford to get the translation. He raised a brow. A strange request. “Why the request?”

Kamon didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head, like he was asking why right back at him. His expression remained unchanged.

Bradford held in an exasperated sigh that had been wanting to escape for some time. “I’ll do you something better.”

He got up and left the room. It took a few minutes, but he came back with a tablet. He figured that would be much safer than giving him a pen, though the man had shown no signs of violence. That was something they didn’t want to risk. Bradford also had an ulterior motive for choosing the tablet; he could privately link with the device to see what Kamon would be typing.

“Tablet. Note app. You can write with your finger or use the keyboard.” Bradford said as he set it down in front of Kamon.

There was a slight change in expression for Kamon. Psionic energy sparkled throughout his eyes as they narrowed, focusing on Bradford for just a moment before shifting over to the tablet. Setting down his glass, he pulled the tablet closer to him and began to mess with it. His brows scrunched and relaxed several times as he tried to figure out the system. He spent a few minutes testing it out, attempting to write on it with his non-dominant hand, before deciding on the keyboard. 

Bradford slyly activated the remote viewing to see what Kamon was typing. Before he could truly take a look, Virgil nudged him a few times.

“Gonna drink or am I gonna have to drink for ya?” He grinned.

Bradford just glared. “I’ll take a sip.” He finally grabbed the glass.

“A little warning, it’s got a subtle kick to it. Takes a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the throat.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t exactly believe the warning. 

As he took a sip, he cringed. The mead was much sweeter than he was expecting and much sweeter than he preferred. Not horrible, but would rather be drinking some whiskey right now. May need some later depending on how this plays out. Not how I expected things to go since his rescue. I may be the Acting Commander for much longer than I want. Are the others out there and imprisoned too? More dark thoughts slowly began to enter his mind before he shoved them back into the corner they belonged. 

He unexpectedly cringed again. Just as Virgil had warned, it took a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the back of his throat. He made a few subtle clicks before a faint grunt slipped out as he tried to fight the growing burn and stifle a cough, but it slipped free.

“Here…” He grumbled as he passed his glass over to Virgil who gladly snatched and dumped into his. 

“Think you’d like the ginger berry one more.” Virgil snickered as he pointed to the bottle.

I’d like ginger beer more than alcohol right now. Wonder if the latest batch is done? Bradford shook his head. “I think I’ll pass until—”

Two psionic pings range out. Bradford’s wine glass disappeared from Virgil’s hand before a clean one appeared on the tablet. And then another bottle appeared on the table, much shorter than the mead bottles.

Wait… is that? Shifting forward, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the new bottle. The label read “Warren’s Special Ginger Beer - Extra EXTRA Strength.” His brows raised as he blinked a few times. Did he…? A worrying thought crossed his mind. He felt no psionic touch on his mind. None of those pinpricks or pushes on his brain before something would try to ensure him. Then again, he had no idea what Kamon’s psionics felt like. Or does he recall something… Can’t say I drank ginger beer back in the day that much… He hated his foggy memories concerning the more “relaxed” times in the old HQ.

“Oh, no gingin for me?” Virgil playfully whined. With another psionic ping, a bottle appeared before him. “Much obliged.”

“So where we left off the last time we chatted…?” Bradford shifted in his seat before leaning forward to use his tablet to bring up his notes from their last session.

Before he did, he caught a glimpse of what Kamon was typing. At first, it looked like gibberish with odd abbreviations he couldn’t decipher and a few numbers until he scrolled down to more legible notes. It looked like he was recording notes on the current meads they were drinking. Kamon had notes for himself and then his observations for Bradford and Virgil. He made a pointed note concerning Bradford’s reaction to the spicy mead. “Seems not to like sweeter drinks. Have to see how he’d like the ginger berry one. If no to that, then he can have the ginger beer. Seems to have an odd relationship with alcohol with how he did not drink as quickly as his friend.” 

Then he noticed Kamon started a new section — “Today’s discussion with this “XCOM.” Whatever day it is. What nonsense will they repeat today to get me to “remember? Unless I’m just hallucinating all of this.”

Bradford did his best to hide a twitching brow. He was going to have to avoid reading those comments to keep himself from saying something he would regret. He is more observant than he’s letting on. And seems he thinks he’s still in that suit… The latter made him mentally sigh. He had a few suspicions that Kamon may have thought they were his captors. He was hoping there was some way to jog his memory and convince him they were not.

“I believe we were talking about some tales dear ol’ Kamon disappearing off to the hanger or to the motor pool to talk with the mechanics and get his hands dirty, to engineering to chat robotics with Dr. Shen, or slipping off to one of the MEC or Shiv workshops to talk to the engineers there.” Virgil said.

“Right, right.” Bradford nodded just as he brought up his notes. “It was your,” he made sure to make eye contact with Kamon, “way of de-stressing after a rather stressful operation or meeting with the Council.”

“Tch.” Virgil scoffed. “Damn that Council and their demands and damn them to hell for betraying us.”

An amused snort came from Bradford. He could agree in several ways. “Remember, there were some reasonable ones. Sadly, that didn’t save them all from being mind-controlled.”

“Right.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Any who…” Setting down the wine glass, he snatched the ginger beer off the table, pressed the metal cap against the edge of the table, and with a quick smack, the cap shot off with a metallic zing. “Let’s talk about ‘em motor pool days. Still can recall a few stories he shared with us when on break.”

Virgil took the lead since he was one of the old senior engineers who bounced between various workstations across the base. It was still a shocker to several of them that the Commander was once the head of a motor pool when not handling other technological things in the Navy when he wasn’t on land. 

As Virgil was taking a deep swig of his drink, a funny memory crossed his mind, causing him to nearly choke. He made sure to turn his head away from them as he spat out his drink and slipped into a coughing fit.

“You alright?” Bradford wondered if he was going to have to smack his back with how hard he was coughing.

Virgil raised a hand. “Good. *cough* I’m *cough* good!” He beat his chest a few times with a firm fist until the last bit of that burn left his throat. “Just ‘membered the story he told of dismantling three whole humvees because he was bored and then wanted to spite his boss at the time cuz they pulled some stupid shit and blamed his whole crew for the f-up.”

Bradford chuckled. “Seriously?” That was the first time he heard of that.

He nodded. “‘Member it all too well since none of us believed him and he proceeded to dismantle one of our humvees, found a few issues, and put it back together. That thing ran leagues better than before.”

Both of Bradford’s brows rose. He tried to recall the memory, but it just wasn’t there. “Wow. I see why he got along great with Dr. Shen and his team.”

Kamon barely reacted to the story. Maybe there were raised brows that happened too quickly for them to notice. 

Bradford caught a glimpse of his notes. “More of these ‘XCOM’ days, but the motor pool incident… that may be true? Not sure. Just foggy… but remember an old boss(before I replaced him) pulled some crap and tried to blame the crew, specifically me because he just didn’t like me. Think I used his words against him in the reaming talk down and report made when dismantling those humvees AND some other things. The look on his face was priceless. At least my new boss had a sense of humor and called him out on his BS. Think they were looking for a reason to ship him off somewhere else…”

Bradford mumbled to himself. Looked like his old boss was remembering things before XCOM even if his memory was still shot. A good sign, but it seemed the man was keeping that knowledge to himself. 

Virgil continued with a few more stories, mixing in the XCOM days with events of Kamon’s past that were shared with him. He brought up a few stories of how he interacted with the Sub-Commanders before each one got shipped off to their designated base, and the annoyances they had to deal with when the Gene Modding program began. He did most of the laughing, followed by a few chuckles from Bradford, but Kamon never made a sound. He just raised a brow, nodded along, or offered Virgil some more mead to drink.

This is going to be another session of nothing. Bradford lamented in his mind. He finally cracked open the ginger beer and started to sip it. The harsh bite caught him off guard for a second, causing him to sputter, but once he recovered, he was drinking it down like water. As most of Warren’s drink-making escapades went, it tasted great. The tingling bite was also knocking away that alcohol craving.

“Raymond wasn’t too happy when one of the prototype SHIVs went missing until he learned it was Kamon who had it.” Bradford interjected when he recognized the story Virgil was talking about.

Virgil was snickering up a storm. “Old doc still wasn’t too happy ‘bout that and warned him to not let it get damaged. But did like that some ‘combat data’ was being reported to fine-tune its detection sensors.”

He let out an annoyed sigh, eyes shook in anticipation of a roll that held itself. “Those with that invisibility gene and legs gene really liked jumping you guys. The vents… why was it always the vents?” Just remembering those incidents made a vessel pop out of his head.  

 Virgil choked mid gulp causing him to sputter before a roar of laughter took it over. He slammed his bottle on the table a few times. “Jynn and Kamon nearly got their skulls cracked from that!”

“The problems with being tall.” He chuckled, but a wistful sigh followed. As quick as the sad feeling came, the memories of how the others dealt with it caused him to crack a smile.  “Thaddeus body-slammed one of the culprits the fourth time it happened. Elli was the luckiest of the bunch, most of the time, she managed to slip out of their grasp before the leap. And that was before she got her dog.”

“Oh, that dog.” Virgil snickered. “How did she even get authorized to bring that silent hellhound to the base?”

“She used to be an animal handler, and it was her dog. Can’t remember the name, but she was very loyal and insanely smart.”

“Surprised nobody got mauled by that Dobermann.”

“There were some cases of bites, but nothing serious.”

Bradford checked back on Kamon’s notes. Seemed like he had become mostly disinterested in the storytelling as his note-taking became sparse and he returned to taking notes on the mead and making pointed suggestions to relay to the brewers. But he noticed something a little curious. From the conversations, Kamon had picked out a few key names and their positions, with some vague comments about each person and several question marks following the statements. To the untrained eye, it just looked like he was jotting down things the two had mentioned, but Bradford noticed there were a few details here and there that hadn’t been mentioned today or any of the days prior.

Thaddeus Seaver - He helped continually secure funding for the aircraft and related research… Last one to transfer to that Australian base. Some experienced soldiers were transferred alongside him for that work-in-progress (???) base, compared to the two others. Opal mines? Possible cash flow??? People will buy anything even with an apocalypse going on. China. The Triad… That artifact and… The note trailed off before going back to more speculation about why that location was chosen to build a base.

Jynn Reeves - She whipped the China base into shape within a… month? Helped boost the translation team’s funding. Helped with the Hong Kong situation, the battleship was a technological boon, and… The note trailed off again and switched to about some issues with getting their Psi Soldier division off the ground and needed some transfers of their tops psions from the main HQ to get that fixed.

Elli Antonov - She hated Ferro. Never got around to the name change. Moved to the African base. The region had an increased rate of captured aliens for interrogation. Helped boost both the Genetics and R&D teams. The notes trailed off, wondering how upset the Elders became when that happened.

Bradford scanned the notes over a few times, making sure he wasn’t imagining things. Seemed like another good sign, but he couldn’t shake a growing feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He remembers some things, but why isn’t he talking to us? “Hm?” Then he noticed a note about him again in the drinks section.

John Bradford. Central Communication Officer then and now, in addition to becoming the “Acting Commander.” Face is… A new paragraph was started, skipping over the thought. Still avoiding alcohol. Is drinking the ginger beer. Seems to like it. Why avoid the alcohol? Alcohol avoidance? Trauma? Picked up a drinking habit post-Invasion? Who wouldn’t want to forget it all? Hope that liver is okay. Same with any others tapping the bottle. I’m sure that is happening around the ship if not world that isn’t under the aliens’ rule.

Another hm slipped out as Bradford read the latest entry that was still going. For a moment,  he glanced up at Kamon, the man was still typing away, more notes concerning the alcohols he had been sampling since the first time he teleported a bottle into his room and the apology letters he would possibly have to right to the angered brewers.

I think I’m going to have to press it. He opened his mouth to speak.

“››Opinions on the mead?‹‹” Kamon spoke in Dutch. He was looking at them as he gestured to the meads. His eyes were nearly back to their regular state. One was brown and the other, emphasized by his faint cut and burn scars, was a grayish blue.

Bradford chewed on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t help shake off the feeling psionics were being used, but he still wasn’t feeling anything intruding on his mind. Just the usually nagging conscious of making him doubt XCOM would get their Commander back, where the others were, and the numerous logistical tasks he needed to get to were piling up. Logistics… need to get some raids going and resource gathering. Would love that mind of yours Kamon. You were always good at getting things set up and moving, quickly pivoting if something dire came up. 

“Opinions on the mead?” Virgil repeated the question back a little slowly as his translator took a moment to catch up. He tilted his head back and forth a few times, running his tongue behind his teeth, as he chuckled to himself. “Never thought a hot mead would be pretty nice. Fairly smooth and the burn is just right and doesn’t overstay its welcome. And the cinnamon is a nice earthy touch. Heh, if we ever get our hands on some wild pigs or sum cows,” he paused before cursing the aliens under his breath, “that would go great with some BBQ ribs.” He then made some positive comments about the ginger berry mead.

Bradford glanced down at his tablet as soon as he noticed Kamon was typing again. A new section appeared in the notes, jotting down all the details Virgil was making about the meads.

He got a little too focused until Virgil nudged him.

“Hm?” Bradford glanced up.

“Your turn, bucko.” Virgil grinned.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Kamon was waiting. The notes can wait.  “The first one was too sweet for my tastes. Maybe a splash of aged whiskey would tone it down for me.” He shrugged. “And that heat was weird. Made me lose interest in trying the other.” A partial truth as he overestimated how quickly his body wanted to drink something much harder after the small sip. “Sorry.”

“››The ginger beer then?‹‹“ Kamon nodded to it.

“Hardier bite than expected, but good as always with how Warren makes it.” He said. Kamon simply nodded and continued typing.

Bradford took a peek at the comments again. He was doing the same with him as he did with Virgil, but he noticed Kamon went back to some other notes concerning him.

Truth and a lie. Can… can just sense it. Hidden feelings. Alcohol may be used to forget something more than just the destruction of XCOM. The sullen look is short in quick. He doesn’t like to dwell on it for too long. Family? Friend? Lover? Who or what???

Bradford’s brows knit together as his eye fell into a faint squint. Psionics. Has to be psionics. If so… this is on another level we’ve never experienced. The very thought was frightening. I may need to get Dr. Veer down here and— What the!?  He had taken his eyes off Kamon’s notes for just a second to shoot the doctor a message, but as he came back to the main screen, all that detailed observations about him had disappeared. He scrolled up and down through the notes several times, but all of those more intimate notes were more generic, and likewise for some concerning any potential health updates if the doctors cared to share.

He silently mouthed “The hell…” He barely reacted to Virgil nudging him and asking “What was what?” One more jab made him wave Virgil off and say there was an “error” as he searched a few more times, even going through the history log. Nothing was there but a small time gap. I know I just saw that. He looked back at Kamon. He had finished typing and was pouring himself one of the meads, but had a firm look on his face. One brow was raised.

He’s messing with me. Has to be. Even deleted the history log. How did he figure that out? Such a question was stupid. Kamon was always tech-savvy. Bradford reflexively glared back. An irritation was slowly growing. Why? Is this a test?

“Well, anywho.” Virgil shrugged, seeing whatever was going on was not his problem. “So, around year two, we have just rescued sum UN guy and you and the others were ‘bout ready to—”

The next second a harsh, sharp scrape of a chair sliding made him cringe, followed by a loud bang on the table — rattling the bottles and glasses — nearly made Virgil fall from his seat. As he looked over, he saw Brradford standing up with one mean glare directed at Kamon.  

Kamon stayed calm. “I don’t know what game you’re playing. I know you deleted some of your notes.” Bradford said. Irritation laced his voice. “I’m not dumb.”

The sudden anger stunned Virgil. “The hell you on about, Brady?”

Kamon just shrugged. That got a huff from Bradford.

“I’ve noticed your latest notes.” Bradford double-checked them to make sure he would say the correct things. “You want to know everything we currently know about your health? What the Elders screwed up and tampered with?”

Virgil grimaced. “You sure that’s wise?” Virgil whispered. “We’re still running tests on that and them docs don’t think it’s smart with how his heart raced when he noticed the missing appendages!”

Kamon slowly blinked a few times as his eyes slowly widened. He nodded.

Bradford shot Virgil a glare, which made the man raise his hands real fast and lean away. “Yes. He deserves to know. Especially with all the poking and prodding he’s endured without doctors.” In his heart, it felt right to defy those orders from the doctor. “And just maybe,” he paused as kept a firm glare on Kamon, “you’ll stop your damn games. You know more than you’re letting on. You’re remembering more than you’re willing to share.”

Kamon just tilted his head back and forth a few times before readjusting himself in his seat. That plain face was back once more. 

One more huff came from Bradford before he sat back down.

“Where do you want me to start?” Bradford asked, gruffly.

Setting down his glass, Kamon gestured to his missing arm and then leg. “››Any ideas?‹‹”

“Negative.” He said. He was expecting questions about his amputations would be a top priority. “We’re still trying to figure that out. We don’t know when or why it happened. Have some plans to hit some high-security data centers they may have kept you near to see if there’s any information pertaining to the amputations.” Such operations would take some time to organize since ADVENT would be more active to protect such information since they resumed the Commander. “It looks like the Elders had plans to replace it at some point. Not sure if it would be mechanical or organic, but looks like the former with how that foundation looks.”

Kamon let out a brief mhm as he touched his shoulder. It was currently covered, yet here and there he could feel the cool metal that was embedded in his skin. There was a faint resonance and tingle that pinged against his fingertips due to psionics.

He then turned his head away from them before touching the golden diamond-shaped implants lining the sides of his shaved head. Like his shoulder, he felt that tingle in his fingers and the skin around the implants. “››And these?‹‹“

“We’re still looking into that, but according to our doctors, more or so Dr. Veer, she suspects they are augments for your psionics.“ Bradford said. He didn’t want to imagine how that surgery went and the headaches that followed. “Which, you being a psion, is still a surprise.” A raised brow from Kamon told him he needed to explain. “Some tests have shown you had the markers that would make you a psion and additional tests show the Elders applied their trade of genetic manipulation to express and enhance them.”

Virgil chuckled. “Vahlen would have loved finding out about those markers when she was testing just about every soldier and important personnel.”

Bradford rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He missed the doctor, but remembered how the Psionics Division nearly got out of hand when the testing ramped up. “Kamon would not have let her stuff him into one of those coffins.”

“Well, I think he would have enjoyed a week’s nap.” Virgil playfully teased. “And then if he came out sparking, that would have been a plus. Probably help him keep the soldiers in check a bit more.”

“And Vahlen would have wanted to test the other three.” He shook his head. The thought of all four Commanders having psionic powers and using them to keep the soldiers in line made him chuckle. 

“How… interesting.” Kamon spoke. In English.

It took a second for it to register with Bradford and Virgil. Like I was any other person that said that, they reflexively answered with a “yep.” When it hit, they both froze with wide eyes and mouths nearly hanging open. Their attention was fully focused on Kamon.

“Did he…?” Virgil nudged Bradford. The man didn’t respond. He was looking intently at Kamon, who was busy pouring himself another glass.

Did he just? Is he just messing with us? “Did you just—”

“Spiced Firecracker.” Kamon said the name of the spicy mead. “A simple taste a first with hints of cinnamon before the complexity of the hot peppers strike leaving a slight tingling but satisfying burn at the back of one’s throat and tongue.” He then gestured to the other. “Then the Ginger Berry. A harsh bite at first due to the ginger before the wild berries rear their sweet layered hints to tantalize the tongue. It all goes down smoothly.”

Bradford had to keep his jaw from going full slack. Where was this coming from? Had he been hiding his ability to speak English from the beginning? He was about to speak again, but Kamon continued.

“Both are sweet. One with a hidden bite and the other much more upfront. Both can make you forget how it’s a slow poison if you indulge in it too much.” He swirled his drink a few times, watching the golden liquid twinkle under the medical lights, before downing it. Once the last drop went down, he suddenly slammed the wine glass on the table. A crack shot through the base of it. “Like the damn Elders.” Not only did he growl out the name with an intense hatred, his expression changed. Gritting his teeth, he had a firm sneer on his face, and furrowed brows accentuated his glowing eyes. “The Invasion and the ‘peace offering’. The bite and sweet lies.” He scoffed. He then began to tilt his hand back and forth and roll his eyes.

“Sweet, sweet lies that wormed their way into everyone’s psyche to forget ‘humanities greeting’ to the Elders that ‘tried’ to make ‘peaceful contact’ with this world.” He scoffed again as a series of curses in an alien language came out. “Sweet lies to condition the humans to Their rule. Sweet lies that the Elders would ’share’ Their technology and ‘teach’ humanity how to use it. Sweet lies to make you believe the new ‘truths.’ Sweet lies that ‘saved’ this world from itself. Toa’talos xa’vind… Vok’thalls xa’vind…”

Kamon finally stopped his rant. A psionic ping rang out as he teleported one of the bottles on the floor to his hand and began pouring himself some wine as soon as the cork shot off. While doing so, he was grumbling about the Elders’ fear tactics and how they reminded him of his “parents.”

“What the hell…” Bradford mumbled as his mind was still processing the rant Kamon went on. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy the man was talking in English, seemed to have more memories intact,  and was showing emotion, pissed because he was suspecting Kamon had been hiding things, or concerned that he was drinking much more than he ever had and was angry.

Virgil leaned over and whispered to him. “Think we may need together some psi shields. Can feel that angry prick at me.”

Hit took a second before he felt the same thing. It was faint but felt like thousands of needles wanted to have a go at his face. Then he noticed the faint energy wisps trailing from Kamon’s eyes. “Putting in a request.” He quickly shot a message and included Dr. Marin and Quinn that they may be needed.

With a full glass, Kamon downed it in under a minute and poured another glass, but didn’t touch it. He just swirled it around as the glow in his eyes ebbed and flowed.

“The lies… the lies… So many damn fear tactics those parasites used to control those who were forced to work on me.” He gritted his teeth. “Humans and aliens… sweating bullets whenever they had me under the knife or were plugging me in for another round of those tests, praying I wouldn’t die before they got me back into some system. I wonder how many of them got ‘rehabilitated’ since the process didn’t always go so cleanly.” His eyes closed for a second as a dark chuckle slipped out. “Tch. Can’t say that would be better than getting converted into a Hybrid. Either way, you’re dead in some fashion.” He grumbled as he leaned back in his seat. “Think I died a few times.” He let his eyes aimlessly wander around the room as he sipped on his drink. “Maybe a little more than five times? Eh? Eh?” He shrugged a little too casually for Bradford and Virgil’s liking. Bradford blinked a few times and Virgil turned a shade paler. “ Finally, someone with a heart and some sense came in to stop that. For being such a valuable ‘Asset’ those parasites didn’t exactly treat me like one. Guess They have the mentality of burning through it now and it can be ‘remade’ later into something much better. Tch.” He soon mumbled under his breath. “How did that go with remaking those two poor humans and so many others?”

“You died?” Virgil gawked.

“You recall all of that and dying?” Bradford was equally shocked. He thought Kamon crashing when they pulled that chip out of him was bad enough.

Kamon shrugged. “Yes and no. Can’t faintly recall some concerned comments from the ‘lessers’ that my brushes with death were growing in number.” And some days he wished said brushes would have taken him permanently. “Tch. When the one with the heart came around, I think he fixed me back up the best he could to stop that. Not that the Others cared as They wanted things done to me…” 

His voice trailed off as his mind lingered on that longer than he wanted. He couldn’t exactly recall why it was bothering him, but deep down, as a twisted knot formed in his stomach, he knew whatever the Elders wanted to do to him would condemn him to fate worse than death.

“Whatever that was annoyed the one that fixed me. Especially since the Others wouldn’t listen to him as he explained I needed to recover and that something was missing from me. Something that left me broken. Whatever that meant…” His voice trailed off again. That knot grew; he felt it claw its way up to his throat. He fruitlessly grunted in an attempt to clear his throat. It was something else that bothered him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what the Elder meant by that,  but he felt it was true. Even now, he felt like something was wrong with his being. Like it was more than just his limbs missing and who knew the other tampering the Elders did to him. It was so much deeper than that, and it terrified him.

Before Bradford or Virgil could get in another word, Kamon went on a lung-bursting rant as he just let it all out. He swapped languages like a fast-spinning roulette wheel as he just cursed out the Elders and everything They were doing to the Earth, how poorly They ran things(and did he tear into their shoddy logistics and forgetfulness), and were unnecessarily cruel to everything They touched.

Bradford and Virgil had to take a step back as Kamon’s psionics became more visible around him and were crackling with intense energies. The psionic sensors went off.

“Yeeesh, where is all this coming from?” Virgil said. “Seemed like he couldn’t recall jack for days…”

“I thought I had some pent-up anger…” Bradford mumbled. He could recall a few times Kamon became angry back in the day, but nothing ever hit this level of vitriol he was displaying. His anger tended to be more on the calm side, which was quite deceiving hiding the broiling anger within. Just a slight sneer and the irritation seeping into his voice was enough to put fear into most of their soldiers and make the Council back off. 

“He’s been aware in that prison…” The very thought of that disturbed Bradford. More things to discuss with the doctors and Senior staff. “He was just… waiting... for the right moment. I think he trusts us now.”

It felt like forever for Kamon’s rant to come to an end and the psionics to dissipate. The two approached with caution, as his eyes were still glowing intensely. The Psionic Division still hadn’t arrived.

Kamon finished off his glass. This time he set it down softly, pulling his fingers slowly down the stem, tracing the creeping cracks, as a heavy sigh came out. His shoulders slumped down. All anger was gone. He looked tired and sad.

“Power hungry, greedy, parasitic ba-bastards.” One last curse slipped out followed by one more mumble. He always had trouble with that word. They’re dead to me, but I do wish they did not suffer during the Invasion. Same with my half-siblings. “Same with those two They broke and remade in Their image… The third born into it. And me…” He didn’t continue, but a grimace formed.

Seeing he was engrossed with his tumultuous thoughts, Bradford cautiously reached for the bottles. To his relief, Kamon did not respond with the usual teleportation nonsense allowing him to move them away from him. 

With hushed voices, Bradford and Virgil were trying to figure out how to break the silence. They were unsure if anything they said wouldn’t set Kamon off. Bradford figures some silence would be good to let the man cool off and could buy the Psionics Division sometime before they got here with the shields.

“John.” Kamon spoke again. An odd firmness and warmth flowed with the name.

Bradford quickly snapped too and looked at him. No anger. No annoyance. There was a smile on his face; no twitching on that side that had the older scars.

“Thank you for being truthful with me and being perceptive. Like you usually were back then, unless it was some new request from the Council and I was already in a sour mood.” He softly chuckled. 

Bradford’s eyes went wide. He remembers.

“Been a long while since I’ve had that since,” he gestured to himself, pointing out all the damage, “you know.”

Bradford gave an understanding nod before catching himself. “How long have you—” He bit his tongue. Refocus. He needed to tread carefully. Raising pressed hands together, he took in a deep breath before sharply hissing and dropping them. “So, you remember me now?”

Kamon nodded. “It took some time… to recall things… and you look and sound different.”

Expected. “Why reveal that now?”

Kamon closed his eyes and sighed. “Had to make sure this was real. Not some dream, me losing my mind, or…” His voice trailed off. He stayed quiet for a few seconds as he looked away. “Just had to test. Had to make sure it wasn’t…” His voice trailed off again. This time, he stayed silent.

“Damn…” Bradford shook his head. Something he needed to let the doctors know. Another layer of trauma that would have to be dealt with in therapy. 

“So, were you pretending you couldn’t speak English?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask that question that was also in the back of Bradford’s mind.

“Actually, I couldn’t remember how to speak it until recently.” Kamon let out a nervous chuckle.

“Seriously?” There was some doubt in his voice.

Kamon nodded. “My best guess is beside the chip you all ripped from my brain, the Elders probably screwed up something in here.” He tapped at those implants. “Or these… psionics.” He fluttered his hands, causing some energy to spark in between them. Unbelievable. “Now, I feel like I’ve got most of my language centers back.”

“Something tells me ‘recently’ was a few days ago.” Bradford said with a twitching eyebrow.

He only smirked, which got a curse out of Bradford.

Bradford leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He felt several lifetimes of weight lift from his shoulders only for a fresh wave of annoyances and concerns to crash back down and needle at his mind.  He took a few more seconds to recompose himself before looking back at his old friend.

“You are an asshole.” Bradford wondered if they could have skipped all this nonsense if he was less suspicious. Yet, there was a part of him that understood. He could see himself pulling the exact same stunt or being more hands-on.

“I did have my moments back then.” Kamon said with no hint of guilt. Virgil laughed. 

“Glad to have you back.” And he meant it.

“I have a feeling you want to punch me.” Kamon caught a hint of a twitching brow on Bradford. He glanced at Virgil. “And same with you?”

Virgil raised his hands. “Not my rodeo, sir. I’m good!”

“That would be an understatement.” Bradford admitted. “I’m more happy that your mind’s not entirely shot.”

Kamon chuckled. “When I’m back on my feet,” he paused as he glanced down. That nub of a leg twitched. “You guys are cooking up some prosthetics?” 

He nodded. “Yes, for the leg, at least. The arm… That’s going to take more work.”

Kamon nodded. The leg was better than nothing. But he knew it was going to take a long time to adjust to both limbs missing. “Well, when I’m back on my feet, and health is fairing better, I’ll let you throw me around during training.”

“Heh, ha.” He grinned. “Don’t make such a tempting offer.”

They all laughed before silence took over. 

Bradford was hyper-focused on his tablet, updating files left and right. Virgil had left for a bit to take care of the empty bottles. Kamon was off in his own world, sorting through his thoughts until one just wouldn’t go away.

“John.” He said, voice a little faint and hesitant.

“Hm?” Bradford looked up.

“Am I… Am I the only one you guys found?” He asked.

It didn’t take much for Bradford to figure out what he meant. A pained sigh slipped out. “Yes. So far. Haven’t been able to check out the other bases except for one. Jynn and Thaddeus are MIA… Possible KIA for Jynn,” a sigh slipped out, just mentioning her, “as the area the Hunan base was located in is saturated with raw psionic energy. Even ADVENT doesn’t bother patrolling the area. No idea how the Australian base fared.” He still needed to put in a request for the Templars or Void Walkers to investigate those locations for them, especially the Hunan base. “We haven’t come across any data in ADVENT’s Network concerning them. But we could have missed or overlooked the files, as our focus was on finding you.” That was always a worry.

“Mhm.” Kamon nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment as his heart hurt for the two. “And Elli?”

Another sigh came out as Bradford’s shoulders tensed before dropping. “She’s assumed KIA. The Nigeria base has so far been the only one we’ve been able to visit…” He took in a shaky breath as the memory replayed in his mind. “Besides the cave-ins, there were a lot of bodies and blood there. Couldn’t find hers. Just found her nameplate ripped from her uniform, caked in dried blood. And her dog’s torn-up collar.”

“How… unfortunate.” He shook his head. Another pain hit his heart. “Elli was a good woman.” He looked down and away. “Same with the other two.”

“They were.” Bradford said.

“Can’t say I miss her devil dog.” Virgil cracked a joke. Bradford raised a brow and Kamon snorted. “What?” He squinted at Bradford. “That dog was creepy! It got around like a flippin’ ghost and just like to stand and stare!”

It took a second, but Bradford snorted. “Well, her dog was nice to me and only attacked the troublemakers.” He then mumbled under his breath. “She did have a habit of ‘exploring’ and getting into restricted areas.”

“Nyx.” Kamon said. The two looked at him with a raised brow. “Nyx, that was the name of her Dobermann.”

Virgil pulled at his beard a few times. “Sounds… right.” He wasn't so sure. 

“Nyx…” Bradford repeated, letting it roll off his tongue. He nodded. “Smart girl.”

“Terrifying silent demon.” Virgil hissed. 

Kamon snorted again. “I think you’d prefer her bite compared to Thadd slamming you into the ground or a wall. I think he broke a few soldiers ribs besides damaging their equipment.”

Virgil cringed. A memory flashed in his mind concerning some armor that had some alien alloy ended up with a sizeable dent and one experimental weapon broken in half after an incident involving pranking the Sub-Commander. Some of the staff wondered if Thaddeus had undergone secret Gene modding or had the Gene Modding team secretly spiked Thaddeus’ drinks with some Meld to make him as strong as a Muton. “Ya know what, that’s fair.”

Bradford laughed for a second, only for a longer laugh to follow as another old, but good memory came to his mind. 

“Besides breaking ribs, I swear, some days, Thadd was ready to suit up and jump into the cockpit of one of our jets.” Something else to lighten the mood. “Hell, he even wanted to take the Skyranger out for a spin!” He smacked his hand against the table. “Big Sky and the other pilots did not help with edging him on when ‘off-duty’.”

Kamon nodded as a wry smile appeared on his face. “He did miss flying and those knuckleheads didn’t help.  Thadd expressed repeated interest in taking one of the alien ships for a spin if we ever got around to reverse engineering one.”

Virgil snorted. “I remember that. Man, he was ‘bout ready to make a ‘surprise visit’ back to the Main HQ when he caught wind we were working on building one to truly take ‘em skies back from the aliens.”

————————

Their conversations switched over to Kamon wanting to be informed of what had happened all those years while he was imprisoned and how the remade XCOM was fairing. 

Before those discussions could begin, Dr. Marina and Quinn finally showed up with some help in tow. Those psionic shields were no longer needed, but Bradford took the opportunity to let the doctors know of the recent developments, much to their shock.

Kamon apologized for how uncooperative he was by not talking much once they could communicate for all these weeks. It was a mixture of him being suspicious but also defaulting to a state of least resistance he would take when he had those few more-lucid-than-normal moments when he was pulled out of the suit. He couldn’t recall if he ever had a moment of attempting to escape or did something, but he could remember the pain the Elders would bring, ripping apart his mind to silence it back to that small corner once more and force him back into that “sleep.”

That news was another disturbing development to be researched by the Communication and Information teams, and another issue to be addressed for his future therapy. 

After a few, not too intrusive tests and questions concerning Kamon’s psioncis, Bradford kicked the doctors out, as he could tell Kamon just wanted to talk and not deal with tests.

He got back to telling Kamon what had happened over the years and then answered his questions on who else survived the main HQ and sister bases.

The news was rather bittersweet to Kamon learning Raymond Shen was dead and Moria Vahlen was missing. He would have loved to have a conversation with Shen Sr. one last time. The man reminded him of his uncle. He hoped they would cross paths with Vahlen again and that the good doctor wasn’t getting herself and her cohorts into trouble, but hearing she was dabbling heavily into manipulating the DNA of captured alien subjects from what the information of the last correspondence with her contained had him concerned. 

He learned of a few more survivors who were on the Avenger and many who were scattered across the world trying to set up Resistance Cells, but were ready to join back up with the main crew when the time would come. 

 Some of the names Bradford mentioned sounded familiar to him, and others only drew blanks. That annoyed him, but he knew the most likely culprit to that was due to the Elders meddling. He just hoped his memory would eventually return concerning the others. 

————————

“Before we wrap up, I have one last question for you.” Bradford said. 

A few hours had passed, and they were finally concluding their conversation because Bradford felt they had discussed enough and didn’t want to overburden his boss. At the moment, he was helping Kamon get up so he could take him to his bed.

“Yes?” Kamon asked, brow raised. 

“What was with the drinking stunt?” He asked. “Like, seriously, why the alcohol and the teleporting?”

“I wanted to drink.” Kamon answered plainly. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’ve been stuck in that suit for 20 years or so and was parched.”

“Seriously?” Bradford didn’t believe him.

Kamon kept a plain face for a few seconds longer before he smirked. “Maybe that and I was testing things.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bradford just shook his head. He felt like it was two-fold. He let his grip tighter around Kamon’s side, which made the man yelp.  “Well, you gave the doctors a headache and some damn heart attacks. You’re damn lucky the Elders didn’t screw with your genetic makeup like the Hybrids.” He lightly berated him. “Hybrid blood oxides alcohol into formic acid. You’ll go blind, then die.” Something they learned from the Skirmishers, which was confirmed when they did some investigations into their biology when hitting data centers.

Kamon just chucked. “I think They gave me an enhanced liver instead. I should be drunk right now, since I’ve barely eaten all day.” He could faintly recall his limit was usually about two and a half bottles of wine and the same with the mead. And he felt like some of the stuff he tried had a higher alcohol content than what he would usually drink.

“You should.” Bradford agreed. “You should…” His mind thought of all the biological functions the Elders may have altered for his friend. He prayed nothing was drastic, and it was all positive.

“Bet you would like my new liver.” Kamon joked, nudging him with his hip.

“Don’t.” Bradford let out an exasperated sigh. Mentally he agreed. It was a miracle his liver was still functional before he rejoined the remnants of XCOM. “You and Dr. Veer are going to become the best of friends to make sure you don’t pull a me. We don’t need any more alcoholics on the ship or for the Resistance, for that matter. I’m doing better, but still have my bad days.”

“S-s-s-orry.” Kamon only let out a wheezed laugh as his throat suddenly went dry. 

Once they were by the bed, Bradford set him down. He went back and fetched the tablet Kamon had been using. With a few taps here, and typing passwords there, he lifted some of the restrictions and disabled that link he set up so the man could have privacy.

“I’ll have to unlock some more files later, but here are some dossiers and other ready material so you can familiarize yourself with the ship.” He said as he handed the tablet to him. “And some logistical stuff you can look at... You can have fun double-checking our work.” His mind couldn’t help but recall that rant he went on earlier that was inside of his main rant. And it was right. If the Elders kept up with half of Their resources, XCOM wouldn’t have the Avenger. 

“A new ant farm for me to learn?” Kamon asked, not expecting an answer. He gave a quick look at some of the files and section names. He even opened up a dossier concerning supply drop locations. A brow slowly raised as he saw the litany of locations and the maps marked with various symbols. “Giving me homework already?” Bradford snorted.

A thought crossed Bradford’s mind. “Speaking of familiarizing yourself… how the hell did you know where to get the alcohol and glasses?”

Kamon tapped at his head. “Psionics. Can’t really explain it, but I can kinda ‘see’ or ‘feel’ the layout of the ship in my mind. It’s been kind of overwhelming until I learned how to tone it down. Another reason why I didn’t talk much.”

“Huh.” He wasn’t sure if could recall any of their psions back in the day being able to do that. But there was a lot of information he had to deal with and so much of it got glossed over or lost. “What about the ginger beer? Found that to be too on the nose.”

“Hm…” Kamon’s throat trembled, as he wasn’t so sure about that. “Maybe light mind reading?” He wasn’t sure. “I didn’t force myself into your mind. I just felt it.”

“That’s... interesting.” He never felt anything and only felt something when Kamon had his outburst, but even that wasn’t actively trying to pierce his mind. “The Psionics Division will have fun figuring that out with you.”

Kamon shook his head. “I just know Moria would be badgering me with tests right now if she was here. I can hear her saying, ‘you should have let us run those tests back then,’ right now.”

That made Bradford give a hearty laugh. “If… when we find her, I can see her doing just that.”

Bradford gave his friend a few hearty pats on his shoulder, told him he’d have the doctors bring him some food, and that he would be back later in the day before bidding him goodbye.

Until the doctors swung around with his food or for more tests, Kamon busied his mind by reading all unlocked files that dealt with the detailed workings of the Avenger and her crew. It felt like his induction into XCOM all over again. Those memories were a scattered mess, but he recalled having to read documents, upon documents, upon documents of information — with some having heavy redactions — besides having to quickly familiarize himself with how the organization should operate and those who would die under him. 

As more sensations turned on, he could perceive his surroundings. Everything around him shook and rattled. He felt himself being lifted a few times and each time he was set down there was a solid thud. They were never this rough when moving him around. He was a prized asset. 

And then their voices. It was always muffled in the Stasis Suit, but he could tell whoever was handling him sounded rushed. Almost panicked. 

“Bring him over here!” An older female voice said. “And everyone else, clear out! I want this place as sterile as possible!”

“John, you need to get yourself checked out.” A male voice said.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” A male voice gruffly replied. “Barely a scratch.”

“Barely a scratch? They got your back! You’re freakn’ bleeding!”

“For the love of… Get your butt over there and get treated, John! You were shot, for God’s sake!” The female voice chastised him. 

“Doctor Tyler…” 

They nearly got into a cursing match until she reminding him, “you want to be alive when we pull him out?” That silenced him.

As he listened, he noticed they all sounded… human. That was different.

Some rebels found where you were keeping me? Or is it another fault in the system? Another screw-up with my health? Hope the feedback kills me this time.

If there was another fault with his health, he knew They would do everything to keep him alive. All the experiments and modifications. What was even left of him?

He felt the movement come to a slow stop before he felt himself being lifted once more and moved.

“Carefully! There’s potentially decades of atrophy to contend with!” There was another voice. Male. He sounded much calmer and more level-headed than the others. 

“Wish we had more time.” A young female voice said. There was some faint stress in it.

He then heard the faint clicking. Must have been the connection ports on the suit.

Hm. Human. One who values their life since they’re having to remind everyone of my state. Come on, eyes, get that sensation back already before they suppress it fully…. Wait… that’s off.

Though his body felt numb and distant from him, he could tell the usual suppressants to keep him down weren’t flowing through his system. Recalling the clicking, he waited for his body and mind to be taken from him again. But nothing happened. But that faint buzzing in the back of his mind didn’t fade.

“I don’t disagree. But as it stands now, we risk losing the patient if we don’t being the removal procedure immediately.” That male voice spoke again.

Something is wrong. Catastrophic level. Must be dire if they are slipping up and missing steps. I may have a chance before one of the Elders shows up… Come on body…

Exerting what strength he had, his eyes scrunched together several times until they cracked open, only to slam shut due to a bright light. He went through the same motions again, this time opening his eyes more slowly so they could adjust. As they did, everything was a hazy blur before his vision cleared. Red glass greeted his eyes as well as a silhouette on the other side of it. He could feel the person touching the mask, clearing it of the liquid and fog on the outside.

Older male with glasses. And a young female. Don’t recognize the faces. Thaddeus made notes in his mind. But why should he care? Not like he’d remember any of them again once he was back under.

“Okay, all non-essential personnel have been removed. This place isn’t as sterile as I would like, Tygan.” Dr. Tyler said. “I wish we had more time to prepare. Who knows if the Elders have been keeping his immune system healthy?”

Thaddeus heard someone faintly curse in the background before muttering that never crossed his mind.

“I don’t disagree, Tyler. Do you have the injections prepared? Just in case…?” Dr. Tygan asked.

“Prepared and maintained months ago. Have to see if I can get the Medical team to make an isolated suite for him once we get him out of this suit.”

“Good. A wise plan. Let’s also send any and all vitals monitoring data currently being pulled from the suit to the team.”

He felt another click, followed by a twist and a lock to the side of the helmet.

“We’re ready.” The young female voice said.

There seemed to be a pause as Tygan was examining something. 

“Good. Then let’s get on with it.” The gruff male voice was closer than before.

“John…” Tyler nearly hissed. “You should be in the Infirmary. That patch-up isn’t—.”

“I’m fine, doctor.” But a stifled grunt following that statement said otherwise.

Tch. Someone’s stubborn. Thaddeus chuckled in his mind. With how militant they are, would guess they’re an Officer, but don’t have that flanging voice. Unless the Elders are trying to make ones that sound more human.

And he got his answer as the man came into view. Another human. Older. Face matches the attitude. Can’t say I don’t like it. 

Tygan’s hand moved around the helmet, one sitting dead center on the helmet. There was a click, then a high-pressured hiss as air escaped.

If he could have hissed, he would have as the faceplate to the helmet was removed and the full unfiltered light hit his eyes. And the pressure change made his ears popped. And that buzzing sensation spiked for a moment.

More protocols are being skipped. Yeah, something is wrong wrong. That buzzing is getting stronger. Feeling the feedback. They didn’t disconnect me properly.

“Remarkable.” Tygan said.

“Just like 20 years ago...” Bradford said. There was a faint waver in his voice. A mix of excitement that the Commander, his friend, was alive. But also pain as memories of the past came to the forefront of his mind.

“Move back, please.” Tyler nearly shoved Bradford out of the way.

He grumbled before continuing his thought. “… we were still calling it a war back then. We had no idea what was coming.”

It took some time for the pain in Thaddeus’ ears to fade; the buzzing stayed the same. As it did, his eyes fluttered open, nearly sealing shut again as another bright light shined in them. With a few blinks, he adjusted to all of it.

“His pupils are dilating and tracking just fine.” Tyler said. “And… hm.”

Now he had a better look at her. All of them, but he focused on her. Pale to fair skin. Black hair. And she wore red-tinted glasses that were hanging halfway off of her face.  She looked to be the only one wearing a face mask. Looked like someone cared.

“Hm?” Tygan pressed.

“You’ll see.” She took a step back.

Tygan’s eyes lit up before he leaned in. “I see.”

Shock was apparent on Bradford’s face. Tyler had to put a hand on his chest to keep him from leaning in too far. “What the hell? These scars… His eyes… His eye.”

Though it had been 20 long years since Bradford had seen Thaddeus last, he remembered the Commander’s scars. Three slashes on the left side of his face. Got them in a knife fight. Two were just on the corner of his lips, bother starting from his chin and one nearly going to his nose, and the third was the corner of his jaw going halfway up his cheek. And the other scar was on the right side of his face. Scattered scars caused by a glancing bullet. They started at the corner of his jaw and went halfway up and across his cheek.

Yet there were new ones. A vibrant red slash of a mark trailing across the bridge of his nose and face. Bradford’s mind quickly figured the Muton that nearly cracked his skull open caused that when he was captured. But the other one was shocking. Twice over. His eyes. Both eyes had a few dark red scar-like tears underneath them. And his left eye… the sclera of his left was pitch black while the iris was blue and glowing. The other eye looked normal, with a light hazel brown iris.

“Doctors…” Bradford turned to them.

“It’s not an immediate worry.” Tyler said.

“But it has been noted.” Tygan added. “Let’s see his other vitals. Lily. Tyler.”

“We’re monitoring.” Both answered in unison.

Guess the Elders didn’t warn them that They did a number on my face. Sometimes he wondered if he still looked human.

Feeling that buzz in the back of his head grow, Thaddeus closed his eyes tightly as the faintest of grunts came out. For a moment, everything went black as a memory forcefully shoved itself to the forefront of his mind. Memories of the past. The War with the aliens. XCOM. The main HQ. What was happening around the world.

It all flashed by at a sickening pace. He could feel the old stress reverberate through every part of his body.

Ugh… the feedback.

As quickly as it all came, it faded. The world and his vision came back.

“… response from the cerebral cortex. Good. Prepping for cranial intrusion.” 

He barely caught the words of Dr. Tygan as he came to again. But what he saw next caused another set of memories to come crashing in. The device the doctor had raised, activated, and brought to his face, reminded him of what had happened 20 years ago when the aliens had him.

They had him. Body immobilized in some alien surgery table. There was an Elder there. Or were there two? It didn’t matter. The Elder was scouring his mind, keeping it subdued as they gave instructions to a Thin Man. It held a device just like the doctor, more alien in design. They brought it to his face, opened his mouth, and inserted it. The moment he felt it pierce the back of his throat, he felt his mind fully being arrested from him. His prison for the next 20 years.

His mind stayed on the memory for an uncomfortable amount of time. He was barely conscious of what this Tygan was doing but could feel he was examining his mouth and making incisions.

“… I’ve managed to identify the connection. Different from the standard practice… Preparing to make the final incision.”

Thaddeus felt the cold metal touch his tongue and press further back before it suddenly stopped.

“These readings are getting really erratic.” Shen said, voice laced with concern.

“Of course they are. These—” Tygan said. Before he could continue, Tyler butted in.

Tyler cursed under her breath. “I’m seeing some sort of feedback on his nervous system. Pathways across his brain are lighting up. The abrupt removal from the System must be the cause…”

“There is that possibility, too. These implants were never designed to be removed. Especially his…  We are risking severe—”

“No Plan B here people.” Bradford cut them off. “Do it!”

As Thaddeus came to again, the doctor had another similar but different colored device in his hand and inserted it. He felt a pinch and then a pull. With that pull, he felt a surge of electric pain course through his body as whatever it was was pulled out. As it passed the threshold of his mouth, he felt the oppressive buzz in the back of his mind disappear. His thoughts felt… freer. But only for a moment, as more memories came crashing through.

They jumped back and forth during those long few, painful years of the War and the World submitting to alien rule. The cities wiped off the map. The millions killed. The peace treaties. The formation of this ADVENT. The bases under attack. The explosions. Fires. That smell. That Muton that rushed him. He barely deflected two strikes before the third found his face. The whole world came crashing down that day.

Then his mind flashed forward. To his imprisonment in this Tactical Network ADVENT used. It jumped from ADVENT soldier to soldier, their viewpoints as they oppressed the world. Then his mind jumped again. To several instances when the Elders would pull him from the system, from out of the suit to experiment on him and pull at his mind. He spiraled down, down, down.

“Doctors!” Shen yelled. The vitals looked worse.

“This was a possibility… the feedback is growing worse.” Tyler said tersely.

Thaddeus let out a yell. His back arched as he rose from the table as that strangled yell came out. It sounded sounded like two beings were screaming as one. Something inside was breaking. Then everything went black.

That startled everyone.

All the vitals spiked before they crashed. His back hit the table with a hard thud. A long eerie beep filled the room as the doctors worked to bring him back.

“No signal…” Shen said.

“No, no, no…” Bradford muttered. How he wished he could do something, but it was out of his purview. “Come on Thadd, you can beat this.”

For Thaddeus, everything was still dark. Like a void had swallowed him. Body, mind, and soul. But he felt something. Something reached out to him. It felt familiar, but cold at first. As it enveloped him, it became a warm embrace.

No. He felt his voice in his mind. A series of his voice in different tones and then another. One that sounded more alien as it had a wispy echo to its voice. Now is not our time to die.

He could see it, faintly piercing through the darkness. A ghostly four-armed form reached out to him. He felt something click and connect in his mind and body, weaving together that something that broke just as everything went dark.

It is not our time. Stay strong. Endure as I have. Endure till we meet again.

Then he felt more connections. Other voices. They sounded both human and alien. He too could feel them reinforcing what the other was doing to his body and mind. No. It is not time for you to perish. Let his work be for naught. Let their work be for naught. Rise again, human. Rise again, Ethereal one. This world still has a chance at freedom. Before the Broken One finds and consumes your world.

Then he felt one more. Or was is it two? Either way, they were cold. Very cold. Like the deep abyss of the ocean. He felt this connection sweep around him, drowning that warm embrace as it touched his body in several places. Then something caressed his head. A whisper soon followed.

The ichor flows. I taste the pain. He tastes your pain and the same with your world. The voice shifted to the other side of his head. Will you embrace and choose life? The voice shifted again to the other side. Or find release from your torture in oblivion? 

He felt this voice grow closer until he felt those other connections suddenly snap at it and push it away. 

Away with you. Sad, twisted thing.

Before it was fully pushed away, it parted with one last thing.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

As the feeling surged through him, it all faded. The world was coming back. Thaddeus let out a series of pained gasps.

 That eerie, droning beep was replaced by a more steady one. The tense atmosphere in the room had faded.

Thaddeus’ eyes fluttered open again only for him to close them. Or attempt to as a hand forced them back open.

“… pupillary response normal. Vitals stabilizing. Procedure complete.” Tygan said. A smile graced his face.

A faint grunt left Thaddeus’ lips as soon as the doctor’s hands were off his face. He slowly shook his head. It took him a moment to realize he could somewhat move. He was usually more immobilized than this.

“Told ‘em  it would take more than that to keep you down.” Bradford said. He shifted to look at the man. A faint smirk graced his face. Just who was he? “Welcome back… Commander.”

Commander? Does he know me? He couldn’t recognize the man’s face or voice. No, no, no… this could be an elaborate trick by the Elders. Wouldn’t be the first time They forced a “rescue” scenario in my mind to break me.

Thaddeus studied his face as long as he could, trying to connect him with someone from the past but nothing ever clicked before he passed out again.

“Let him rest.” Tyler said. “His vitals have stabilized, but his neural pathways are quite sensitive. I’m picking up faint psionic readings too.”

“I will, doctor.” Bradford rolled his eyes. “I’ll pay a visit a few hours after you guys have moved him. Need to prep some things for him to read.”

“Sounds good and—” She paused as she caught what he meant. “Not so fast with that.”

“What now?”

“We will have to piecemeal that information. He’s been stuck in that prison for 20 years. We have no idea what his mental state may be. Hell, we don’t know just exactly what the Elders did to him besides the theories!”

Bradford wanted to roll his eyes. “I know. I’m not going to share sensitive information with him. I know how that could make him spiral. It’s just the basics. I’ll have Dr. Veer go over it and talk to you.”

Tyler opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine. Fine. I’ll be waiting for her contact. And get your butt to the Infirmary so they can treat your wounds.”

Bradford was about to talk back, but a solid shove from Shen cut him off.

“I’ll make sure he gets there!” Shen said. “Come on uncle~” She said. She faintly giggled when Bradford told her to watch the shoving. “I’ll keep you guys in the loop as I go over the details we pulled from the suit.”

“Thank you, Shen.” Tygan said. “We will be out of your Workshop shortly once the team gets here with the gurney so we can more him to the sterile room. Once we have removed the patient from the suit, we will be sending it down to the Labs. Your workers can collaborate with mine.”

“Got it, doc!”

With a few more shoves, Shen got Bradford out of the room and upstairs to the Infirmary before heading back to her Workshop. As she reached the Workshop, the doctors were moving the Commander out and up to the Infirmary.

———————————————

The Infirmary. They had cordoned off some space in the back to act as the “sterile room” for the Commander. 

At the moment, they were moving from the gurney onto a more advanced medical bed. They connected various tubes and wires to the suit to take his current vitals before disconnecting everything. All was looking good.

Now they just had to remove him from the Stasis Suit. They hoped this task would be much calmer than what had happened when they removed the chip. Thaddeus was still unconscious.

Much to the doctors’ annoyance, Bradford was poking his head in now and then while he was getting his gunshot wounds treated. Eventually, Tyler relented and told him he could enter after his treatment was done, he was fully sterilized and wore some PPE. She figured since he knew Thaddeus well, perhaps he would pick up if anything was off with his body that the files they recovered from old Archives wouldn’t tell. He had pointed out the scars and discolored eye earlier. 

And perhaps this would keep the Acting Commander calmer and keep him from interrupting their work.

“Lift him carefully. We still don’t know the level of atrophy his body has suffered.” Tygan said.

“Let’s get the bottom section of that helmet off.” Tyler said.

With a few clicks and some more hissing, the bottom half of the helmet opened and began to disconnect.

“What the…” Tyler noticed something interesting. “Tygan, get over here.”

“Hm?” He came over and peered over his shoulder. Both brows raised. “That is… unexpected.”

“I’ve never seen something like this. Or the implants.”

As she was pulling away the bottom half, there were several tendrils connecting Thaddeus to several ports inside of the helmet. They looked organic, a translucent fluid dripped from them as they faintly wriggled. And then, towards the back of his head, there was something faintly golden. Until the helmet was removed, she couldn’t get a better look at it.

“They line up to the ports one would find on an ADVENT Hybrid.” Tygan took note.

“Correct. Still, I have never seen anything like this. How are we going to remove this? I don’t want to cut them just in case that could cause issues.”

“Hm.” Tygan examined them for a while longer. “Continue the removal process. Perhaps they will disconnect once enough tension is applied.”

Tyler just nodded and continued.

As she did so, the tendril tensed, pulling back against her for just a moment before releasing their grip on the helmet. As they did so, they retreated back into Thaddeus’ flesh, sealing the hidden ports like they never existed.

“Full body scans are in order once he’s out of this. And let’s check the data banks for any info on these kind of implants.” Tyler said.

Bradford entered the room just as Tyler had pried off the helmet and they were starting to open the suit. He didn’t catch what they had initially witnessed with the tendrils, but noticed something more shocking to him.

“What the hell is wrong with his neck?” 

Wrapping around the majority of the back of Thaddeus’ neck, partially creeping towards the front, was a massive gnarled scar. The flesh was a mix of red and pink tones. That wasn’t there 20 years ago. If he recalled correctly, a tattoo was there. Flowers. He couldn’t recall the type of flowers, but he remember they were flowers there in the past.

“And what the hell is that!?”

Then the other thing that caught his eye was more concerning. One just below his shaved hairline. It was raised, metal, and golden. It took the shape of a segmented diamond. In the center of it was a circle with a more traditional-looking connection port which was quickly covered by flesh once the helmet was fully removed.

“Calm down, John.” Tyler was not in the mood for his outbursts. “We don’t know. We are taking note of it.”

He quieted himself and just watched.

As they began to remove the suit, Bradford nearly had another outburst as he witnessed the tendrils connected to several hidden ports across his back and there was another similar segmented diamond implant just at the top of his spine. But this one was different. It was raised like the other, but underneath and intersecting some points was a black base with a dark blue outline that took the shape of an inverted triangle. At each point of the triangle, there were three insertion-style ports. These did not cover themselves in flesh once the tendrils retreated, instead, a golden cover appeared over them.

As they continued to remove the suit, a similar implant was found at the base of his spine, but the triangle underneath the diamond was right side up.

Prying the rest of him out, a few more hidden ports were found across his chest and limbs, but nothing like the implants on his back.

“What the hell did They do to you?” Bradford spoke his thoughts as he watched the doctors examine Thaddeus’ back. What he thought was only a scar on the man’s neck extended all the way down his spine. Was his back broken when he was captured? What were those implants for? Many negative thoughts ran through his mind. 

He shook his head. He didn’t need to dwell on the negative. That would just drag him into dark places. Instead, he focused on the tattoos. 

His eyes bounced from tattoo to tattoo. Taking note of each on that survived. “At least your other tattoos survived.”

The first he noticed was a vine of fan-like leaves trailing up from his left thigh to his left side. Then there were two twisted rose branches full of thorns wrapped around his upper right arm, and the other was just above his left wrist. And the last were two on each shoulder. Three abstract elongated diamond eyes encircling a small star underneath. 

It made him smile. “Her handiwork survived.”

“Everything is looking good, according to the preliminary scans.” Tyler said.

“This is remarkable. His body is in good condition despite the years in suspended animation.” Tygan said.

“He looks thinner.” Bradford noted. “He’s lost some muscle mass.”

Tygan nodded. “That was expected. The muscle atrophy is not as dire as we initially assumed. Once he’s awake and more lucid, we can gauge what therapy he will need.”

“Any clue on the implants.?” He asked.

Tygan shook his head. “Nothing matches what we have in the archives. I’ve never seen this during my time with ADVENT. Same with other personnel who worked ‘behind the scenes’. ”

Bradford grumbled at that. “Hm, take some pictures. I want to see if the Skirmishers know anything about this.” They were the first faction to cross his mind. Former ADVENT. They would probably know the various implants the Elders used. Especially the higher-ranking soldiers.  “And the Void Walkers, they’re great at finding the obscure.” Another faction that dealt with information and resources trading. They had a knack for getting near-impossible information. For a price, of course.

“Of course. I was thinking the Skirmishers could be of assistance.”

The physical examination continued for a few more hours.

Someone finally ushered Bradford out of the Infirmary and to his Quarters for a well-deserved nap. The adrenaline from the operation finally started to wane and they did not want another patient to work on.

———————————————

A few days had passed. Thaddeus was still being kept in the Infirmary. They wouldn’t be moving him until he woke up and they could do some psychological exams.

He was still out. His eyelids would move. A limb would twitch. And some murmurs would leave his mouth, but he didn’t wake up.

The examinations continued through those days. A few were to see if they could cause those hidden ports and tendrils to emerge. Nothing they did could force them out but they noted each location with great accuracy.

Besides the physical tests, they ran some blood tests. His immune system wasn’t neglected, but they still gave him some boosters so he could acclimate to the Avenger and her crew with minor discomfort.

As they sequenced his DNA, comparing it to his old one recovered from one of the old data centers, they noticed there were some changes. With several focusing on his nervous system and synaptic connections. Dr. Tyler wondered if that was why she noticed the psionic activity when they were removing the chip from him. She passed the information over to Dr. Marin and Quinn. That was their expertise.

So far, it didn’t look like alien DNA had been inserted, but more thorough sequencing and scans would be needed.

Bradford’s inquiries with the Skirmishers lead nowhere. None of them had seen implants like that. The implants they, their kin, and the aliens had were rarely ever hidden and they knew nothing about the diamond ones.

He was still waiting for a reply back from the Void Walkers. They supposedly had a lead but wanted to double-check it. Bradford was a fine client. They didn’t want to lose him if their information was poor.

Additionally, all the personnel working in with Thaddeus would be required to wear a personal mindshield;  which in turn forced the medical team dedicated to him to work in smaller shifts, since they didn’t have many of those things to go around.

Despite Dr. Marin’s warnings — per Bradford’s chewing out — someone attempted to put a psionic-dampening collar on Thaddeus only to have that blow up in their face. Literally. 

As soon as that collar snapped shut, Thaddeus writhed in agony. The psionic detectors went off. A second later, blue energy coursed through Thaddeus’ body, all rushing towards his neck. The energy visibly crackled across the collar until several pops were heard and the clamps blew off. The energy dissipated once it fell off, and Thaddeus continued his uneasy sleep.

Marin wasn’t too pleased to hear of the incident, and worked hard to keep it from reaching Bradford, but relayed the information to the rest of his team and Shen’s team to start working on something stronger for the future.

Marin put in a request with Bradford — skirting the topic the best he could — to see if he could get his hands on more of the ADVENT-dampening collars and Sectoid corpses. Especially any collars made for strong psions. Bradford said he would see what he could do. He’d hit up his Resistance contacts and the Black Market to see if they had any extras.

———————————————

Once Veer was back in good health, Bradford had a few discussions with her. First, he apologized for the necklace gambit. Who knew it would cause such a mess, but it looked like it was the key to finally breaking through Thaddeus’ disbelief. 

Second, he asked how she was doing. She was doing better but would be taking it slow until she was nearly 100% again. The unpleasantness of Thaddeus’ psionics still had her rattled. It wasn’t too dissimilar to a Sectoid’s or the Elders’ touch. But it left her both emotionally and physically drained.

Third, he brought up what happened between him and Thaddeus. The mind meld and something was there. Some entity, alien or psionic, was there. Much to his annoyance, he couldn’t recall what he saw and heard, as the memory had grown more distant. But whatever it was, it was unpleasant. He could feel it touching, prodding, goading. Whatever it was, it liked to pick at and savor intense emotions.

Veer found what he told her perplexing. She couldn’t recall from her time with ADVENT of the Elders of having some sort of alien that sounded like that in Their retinue or “implanting” a psionic being into a test subject, but she also remembered she was just one branch of hundreds of twisted experiments. Anything was possible. 

With Bradford’s permission, she tentatively probed his mind and being with her psionics. There was still a great deal of lingering energy from Thaddeus’ outburst, but she was picking up faint traces of something stubbornly clinging on to it and him. She probed a little further until Bradford abruptly told her to stop with some anger. Similar to how he would usually snap at Corvo when the man prodded too far with his jokes.

He too was shocked by his sudden outburst, unsure why he’d done that until a memory surfaced.  The Nigeria base years ago.

Veer asked if she could prod again. She knew that was a sensitive subject.

At first, he was going to tell her no, as he didn’t want to relive that day again, but he had a faint feeling she would find something. So he begrudgingly gave in, as long as she helped him deal with the turmoil he was going to slip into.

She readily agreed, telling him to clear his schedule before beginning her search again. It didn’t take her long to figure out what that something had wrapped itself around. That painful, sorrow-filled memory. Still, whatever it could be had her stumped, but she agreed with his earlier assessment. Whatever it was, it liked intense emotions.

For his safety, she barred him from returning to the Infirmary until all of that energy dissipated. Bradford objected until she brought up the potential of another mind meld happening between him and Thaddeus and who knew if the second time would be much worse. He reluctantly agreed, but told her to keep him updated on all things. She agreed.

She logged all the information into her notes; making sure to restrict it to her eyes only, and a few select others. This was information that if leaked, would cause an uproar on the ship.

For the rest of the day, she helped Bradford keep his head on straight as several nasty memories and unpleasant suicidal thoughts had been roused.

———————————————

With her health nearly 100%, and armed with a beefed-up mind shield, Dr. Veer returned to the Infirmary to begin some cursory probes into Thaddeus psionics and mind. She was taking advantage of him still being unconscious and hoped his psionics would be less active.

For the next few days, off and on for a few hours during her check-ins, she cautiously poked at Thaddeus’ psionics with her own to test their reactivity. A push here. A pull there. Would they snap back and attack her? Would they try to invade her brain if she went too deep?

They played nice, if not being a little guarded when pushed repeatedly. But no snapbacks. With that reassurance, she took her first deep dive into his mind.

Layer by layer until she hit it. Fractured memories. Edited memories. All that pain, sorrow, grief, and rage. That rage. It was subtle at first, before hitting her like a whirlwind. Biting. Clawing. Tearing. It nearly overwhelmed her; she thought she had seen and felt everything with her unwilling work with ADVENT and then her more grateful service to XCOM. But this… this was different. 

She questioned how even had a shred of sanity left. The Hunter came to her mind, along with some other unfortunate subjects. Would Thaddeus even be fit to lead XCOM once he was awake again? The thought crossed her mind several times as she sifted through the mess. He was going to be an interesting fractured puzzle for her to mend.

As her observations and probings continued, she noticed something strange. Interesting, if she could call that. Some of those tampered memories were correcting themselves via his psionics. She wasn’t sure if that was even possible. She carefully examined it and found something else strange. It felt like there was another force intertwined with his psionics. She didn’t know what to make of it — it didn’t remind her of the Elders — and quickly backed off when she felt it push back when she went too far. That would be something to study later and share with the psionics team.

Before she finished, she noticed how those surface memories were reordering themselves and focusing on XCOM. On old faces. Old friends. Bradford. Corvo. Shay. Matching themselves to the “current” time-worn versions.

Faintly, she could hear the outburst days earlier when he accused them of being liars, and everything was just some elaborate trick. As quickly as it appeared, it was growing more and more silent as the sounds of weeping overtook it. It was just cries of apologies for attacking them, for trying to kill them. For nearly killing Bradford. Everything was real. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t a twisted mind game.

She wondered how many times he had suffered such a horrible reality.

As she was wrapping up her investigations, she felt those faint traces of something she found tethered to that nasty memory in Bradford in Thaddeus, but it was scattered throughout his being. It was like sand. Ever shifting, sneaking into every crevice, and hard to remove. She just made several notes of it, especially how much clung to that angry side of Thaddeus. That worried her.

Once she finished her investigations, she went about preparing her future work on the journey of mending his mind and soul. It was going to be her toughest work yet. She shot off a few messages to Marin and his team. She felt like a great deal of psionic testing would be in Thaddeus’ future.

She left a note of the medical staff treating Thaddeus to alert her when he woke up as well as have security on standby just in case the man would be volatile.

Once she had all her thoughts gathered, she updated Bradford and the others on what she found, what his potential mental state would be when he woke up, and smoother details. 

There was a chance for it to still be volatile, but she had a strong feeling he was going to be more docile and cooperative.

———————————————

Another day. Another dawn. Or was it dusk?

It didn’t exactly matter to Bradford’s exhausted brain. He had just come back from a week-long field operation. They had some new supplies, sabotaged an ADVENT train route, and recovered some alien tech. Additionally, they got something the Void Walkers wanted and, in turn, the Void Walkers gave them some newly made ADVENT-issued psi-dampening collars. Sometimes he wondered how they could procure such equipment, but knew it was better than to ask questions.

Currently, Bradford was at the Bar. Not to drink. Thankfully.

Still in full gear, he was slumped down on one of the coaches, head thrown back and hanging just by the edge of the headrest. Initially, he was just passing through, but that coach called to him like a siren and he could not resist. He was not making it to his Quarters.

He was out for a good 30 minutes before a worker nudged him awake. 

“Rrgh…” He groggily grumbled as he came to. “This better be good.”

He was about ready to curse them out if it wasn’t. What they said next made him alert.

“Thaddeus is awake, sir. Dr. Veer requests you come to the Infirmary. Corvo and Shay are indisposed.”

He hopped to his feet, thanked them, and hurried off.

———————————————

Bradford arrived at the Infirmary in a few minutes. 

It had some patients. There were a few moans, grunts, and bickering from the few soldiers who were currently being treated, but everything was calm.

He made his way to the back of the room, to that cordoned-off area they had the Commander in.

As he pulled back the sheets, he saw Dr. Veer sitting to the right of the bed. Then he saw Thaddeus. The man was awake. Still restrained to the bed. His mood was dower. He was fiddling with something in one hand. It took him a second, but he saw it was the necklace.

Hearing the metal rings of the curtain shift, Dr. Veer looked up. She raised a brow, seeing he was still in his gear. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

“No, you didn’t. Didn’t have time to take this off.” He reassured her. “Hope it’s not a problem.”

She looked him up and down. At least he doesn’t have that over-modified rifle. But the knife could be a risk. “It shouldn’t be. How’s the nose and hand?” She noticed most of the bruising on his face and neck was gone, but he still had a stint on his nose.

“Both are better. It’s like he never broke my hand.” He raised his right hand and flexed his fingers. There was no hint of pain or stiffness. They still were trying to figure out how the psionics helped the healing process. “So, how is he?”

“So far, fine. Just unresponsive at the moment.”

She went on to show and explain all the latest scans. Everything was positive. Though on the psionic side, that was still a tentative mess. Things were in check now, but occasionally there was a spike here and there. She believed it was his emotional state causing it, but didn’t discount that other presences intertwined with his psionics. 

Bradford nodded along, doing his best to decipher the more scientific terms. Hearing about the psionics worried him. He did not want to have to deal with those again. He never liked them. Even when it came from friendlies. But there was something about Thaddeus’ that was wrong. There was so much rage and pain in them. And then that thing could be there.

“So…” He glanced at Thaddeus. Seemed like he was off in his own world. Still no acknowledgment of his arrival. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Veer sighed. For once, she felt stumped on what subject they could start with. “Perhaps—”

“John.” Thaddeus finally spoke. He still didn’t look up. “John… Bradford…” His tongue held onto each word for a minute before letting go.

Bradford didn’t respond. He glanced at Veer. He felt a tap on his mind before hearing her voice.

I think that’s your sign. Take it. She gestured. I’ll keep a connection going. 

Before he could speak, Thaddeus finally looked at them. Looked at him. His eyes were exhausted; his face was tear-stained. 

“Yes?” Bradford said. He took a step forward.

He sniffled. “I… remember you. Remember XCOM. Shen. Vahlen. Shay. Corvo. Jynn, Kamon, Elli… So many others. So many damn others…” He paused as a weak chuckle came out. “You’re not fake. None of this is fake.”

Bradford closed his eyes as he heard that. Part of him was relieved. Looked like that chaos bore some fruit. But the other part felt a new sensation of dread eating at the back of his mind. Fake. 

Dr. Veer had explained what the Elders had most likely done during their debriefings. Something those bastards did to many test subjects if they had used as some thrall. He was still wrapping his head around that. It sounded like senseless torture. Especially if the theories of what the Elders were using him for were true.

“We’re real. Still fighting the good fight.” Bradford nodded.

There was silence again. Thaddeus was studying his old friend’s face, comparing it to the memory from 20 years ago. He looked so different. In a way, he barely resembled himself.

“What did They do to you?” Thaddeus asked. “What happened?”

Bradford put on a smile. ”The Elders never got Their hands on me that day. Just the stress of the world going to hell and trying to survive did a number on me.” That was an understatement. “The years were rough until I found some like-minded misfits and then old friends.” His eyes drifted down as he thought of the late Dr. Shen. “And then I picked up some bad habits. Still kicking some.” 

“Mhm.” He listened. He had seen some of those memories during their last scuffle. He looked back down and to his hand. He continued to fidget with the necklace. Old friends. “Dr. Shen… Vahlen… Are they here?”

Had a feeling. Bradford had to keep himself from reflexively sighing. Both were sensitive topics. “No, sadly. We lost contact with Vahlen some years ago after an incident. Still searching for her and her crew. And Raymond…” If I wasn’t out running an op that day, would he still be alive? He was already up in age… “He passed some years ago. Securing this vessel,” he gestured around them, “came with some costs. The Avenger. His finest work. His daughter continues today.”

Thaddeus’ fingers tightened upon hearing the news. Two faces he would most likely never see again except in photographs. If those had survived. 

Wait. Something clicked in his mind. Daughter. He recalled a female called Shen when they were pulling him out of that suit. He couldn’t quite remember if the good doctor had a daughter. Some memories from the past were distant.

“You said ‘daughter’?” He asked, looking at him again. “That Shen I heard when I was being pried out of that prison… Is she…?”

Bradford nodded. “That’s his daughter. An-Yi Shen. Prefers we call her Lily.”

Thaddeus’ eyes glanced around as he tried to find something in his memories. Something was there, but it was faint. Maybe she was mentioned in passing? “Ah.” He just nodded. 

Silence crept back in. 

Bradford and Veer were whispering, thinking of what they could bring up next. 

Thaddeus was digesting the information and searching though his less foggy memories. It was still a scattered mess. But his mind focused on the fall of XCOM, his capture, and his long imprisonment as the Elders’ pawn. The things They did to him. It was hard to recall all of it, but he was sure he nearly died a few times under Their “tender care.”

Well, one cared more than the others… I think. He could faintly recall one Elder who seemed to be more concerned with his health. Or he thought. It was hard to tell with how broken the memories were, but the Elder was ticked off 90% of the time They worked on him. The other 10%… he wondered if those memories were more hallucinations, but that particular Elder sounded pleasant and less haughty and hypocritical than the others. As well as treating its underlings with respect; none of it was in a backhanded way. It was strange.

What can change the nature of a man? What can truly change it? The soft-spoken voice, with a faint rasp, of that Elder played in his mind. A strange one They were. Always speaking Their thoughts. Always talking to him, though he was barely conscious and had no way of replying with that chip arresting his senses away from him.

He closed his eyes tight and let out a sharp exhale. Let’s talk about that next. Want to get it out of my mind. Maybe give them a point of reference to start hunting for some answers.

“I was captured when they hit all the bases.” Thaddeus spoke.

Hearing that made Bradford and Veer freeze. Not the subject they thought they would be touching any time soon. A hint of worry entered Veer’s eyes as she noticed his brainwaves and psionic levels spiking.

“They did… things to me… that chip…” Rage was slowly entering Thaddeus’ voice. His eyes began to glow. Faint wisps of psionic energy formed around his head. “I’ve been Their prisoner for 20. Long. Years.” Just as the pot was about to boil over, he let out a sharp exhale. The energy dissipated. “20 long freakn’ years.”

Bradford moved closer to him again. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on his shoulder. That just made the man sigh. “You were aware while in that thing?” Bradford asked.  Something all of them were curious to know.

“Partially.” A faint growl rumbled in his throat. “The lucidity came when They needed to take me out of maintenance or experiments. My memories are… fragmented… at best. But they were using me for something sinister.”

Bradford didn’t even have to glance at Veer. With the psionic connection she had going, he could feel the knots growing in her stomach. For him, there was a growing disgust.

“So… you guys searched for me, all these years?” Thaddeus asked. Part of him was having a hard time believing it.

“Yeah. Maybe not a first, but when I rejoined the others and learned how things went for the…” Bradford’s voice trailed off as a painful memory took him. Those eyes closed tight like a vise as she shook his head. A sharp exhale followed before a sharp inhale. “The Sister Branches. It looked like the Elders wanted to capture the leaders. What happened to the others is still up in the air, but I remember that Muton that grabbed you.”

“Hm.” He listened. For a moment, he wondered why he trailed off before a sudden pain made him wince. A memory came forth, not his own. He understood. “And what if you guys found me dead?”

Another sharp exhale came from Bradford. Something that had been discussed several times. A nightmare scenario he hated to entertain. “We’d still keep up the fight despite the great loss. Rather die free than a slave of Theirs.”

“Tch. Heh.” He shook his head. “Foolhardy.” He liked that. 

“How it is.”

Silence crept back in. 

“Thank you…” Thaddeus said. He looked at Veer and then back at Bradford. There was a smile on his face. “Thank all of you for never giving up the search.”

“Anything for a friend.” Bradford smile. Veer simply nodded.

Bradford took a step back to give him some room. And then Veer wanted to discuss some things. Just the psionic readings. The off-and-on spikes were concerning. She wanted to probe Thaddeus’ mind but had a feeling he would have a potentially negative reaction. Bradford would see if he could broach the subject for her.

As they chatted, Thaddeus leaned back deep into the pillows on the bed. He looked up at the ceiling. Eyes jumping from routed wire to exposed ceiling panel. Looked like things were still in the works here.

He wondered how they found this ship. From the bits and pieces he had pulled from Bradford’s memory, when he tried to kill him, he knew the alien origin of the ship.

He quietly chuckled to himself. I faintly recall during my more lucid moments, the Elders had a knack for misplacing some assets unless they were important. That was the most likely answer.  Sekat’kra! He cursed in his mind and chuckled as some fragmented memories of his more lucid moments when out of the system came to his mind. Arguments between the Collective over lost test subjects and facility issues. How many assets have they lost track of?

He chuckled to himself some more before pausing. The hell does Sekat’kra mean? Somehow, part of his brain knew it had alien origins but lacked the meaning. A mild bother, something he could ask them to investigate.

His mind drifted back to the present.

“20 years… so much to catch up on…” He just started speaking his thoughts. 

It had taken some time for it to set in — and in many ways, part of his mind was rejecting it —  but that was such a terrifying thing to dwell on. He knew the world was different. So many were dead or altered by the Elders. He wondered if any of his family was still alive.

“Tch.” He sucked on his teeth. Well, the ones I didn’t send to their deaths. You guys fought valiantly to light up those skies. Burned those UFOs real good.

He barely noticed Bradford coming back. Nor did he notice the first restraint was undone. It wasn’t until Bradford had gone around and undid all of them, and come back over to the right, did it click when he could twist his wrist without discomfort.

“Sorry about your current… arrangements.” Bradford said. 

“I attacked people. Nearly killed you…” Thaddeus’ voice trailed off. Not something he wanted to think about. That damn thing got under my skin. “Sorry… about that.” 

Bradford just raised his hands. “No hard feelings. Truthfully, I think several of us would have done the same if we were in your place. Once Veer,” he thumbed back at her, “and the other docs run some more tests, we’ll get you up in your Quarters. May even have some reading material for you to get that brain of yours going.” He tossed in a little joke.

“Tests… will they— I have my own room?” The latter was more interesting for him.

“It’s been ready for you for years, buddy.” He chuckled. “Though, I’ve crashed in a few times as I’ve been Acting Commander in your absence.” Just thinking of that bed made a wave of tiredness come over him. But with a few blinks, he pushed it back. 

Thaddeus snorted. “‘Acting Commander’?”  He faintly recalled hearing that a few times. 

Reflexively, Bradford’s shoulders fell. “It’s been rough… How did you and the others do it, day in and day out?” He felt it was only dealing with a drop compared to the sea of stress they had to deal with.

Thaddeus rolled his eyes. More or so thinking of how it was a madhouse some days back them. “One step at a time. Tilki.”

Bradford’s brows raised. Tilki. Did he hear that correctly? “I haven’t heard that nickname in years…”

“Some nicknames are coming back to me.” He raised his free hand and started to count off each one. “Tilki, Numbers, Panpa, Think Thank, Hakim, aaaaaand,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Johnny.”

As each nickname for him(and some others) was rattled off, a smile grew bigger and bigger on Bradford’s face. Then it came to that last one. His brow twitched. “You know I hate that one.”

He grinned. “I recall that well.” He usually savored every wince when he used that name back then. “Only used it to get your attention when you drowned yourself in your work.”

“Sure, suuuuure.” Bradford rolled his eyes. He could recall that nickname was used to rile him up when they were off duty.

They both laughed. 

“So about the… tests?” Thaddeus asked, hesitantly. His eyes drifted off to Veer. She was currently looking at her tablet, but those tired eyes glanced up.

“It’s…” Bradford was unsure what to say. “Veer?”

She held in a snort. Broach the subject for me? She sent a teasing thought before taking over. “There will be a multitude of tests. Physical examinations, as you’ve been in stasis for 20 years, yet your muscle atrophy is fairly minimal. Physiological examinations. Again, 20 years in stasis, and I can only imagine the horrid experiments afflicted on you. I will be handing those. And psionic examinations. I will be working jointly with Dr. Marin and his team. As I’m sure you’ve noticed… you’re a latent psionic.”

She continued to explain the psychological and psionic examinations in further detail, emphasizing that it wouldn’t be a one-and-done session. There would be several, especially for the psychological part. She emphasized his mental state was precarious. Both from what the Elders did to him and the shock of the world he found himself in.

 Thaddeus listened intently. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of all the examinations but knew they were necessary. Especially, the psychological and psionic ones. The idea of having his mind picked at figuratively and mentally irked him. But he knew it was necessary. Back in the Old War, even before that time, he saw what an unsound mind could do to a person. Especially a soldier. How many suicides did I stop and fail to stop? He didn’t want to become that. 

“Psionics…” Thaddeus muttered. What were the chances? Was he always one? Or did the Elders make him one? “Vahlen…” He was recalling something. He shook his head as a pained smile crept across his face. “I wonder what Vahlen would say if she was here right now?”

“Mild jabs that you should have let her do that testing and shove you into one of those sarcophagi.” Bradford shook his head before a chuckle slipped out.

“Sounds about right.”

“Dr. Marin will have to fill in for that.”

“That name sounds… familiar.”

“He’s a survivor. He worked closely with Vahlen. Helped kick off the Psionic Divisions research. Doing the same thing now.”

“Huh.” It was nice to hear there was another survivor around.

  Veer excused herself for a moment. Someone needed her assistance. She reminded Bradford she’d listen in via their psionic connection.

Topics began to shift. 

“John… tell me…” Thaddeus paused. His mind had gone back to the memories he saw the other day before he snapped. Memories he picked up from that necklace. His nails dug into the wood. There was a twinkle forming in his eyes. “What was that man like?”

 Bradford had a puzzled look. “Who?”

“The man Lauretta nearly fell in love with, but rejected as she held out hope I was still alive and we’d meet,” his voice cracked, “again.”

Shit. Bradford closed his eyes tight. A no-go topic, but Thaddeus brought it up. He felt a gentle push on his mind from Veer.

Just keep him calm. Denying him may make it worse. 

He could agree with that.

Bradford sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on his friend’s arm. He could see that pain ebbing and flowing in him. Tears were streaming. Bradford looked away. His eyes trailed off to the ground as he tried to find his tongue. 

“From what I could tell, Leon was a standup guy. Never felt bitter after she rejected him. Understood the loss and was willing to wait. Even if that time never came.” He spoke truthfully.

Leon. That was his name. Thaddeus filed that away. He sucked his teeth a few times before raising his free hand to his face to cover it. He was struggling to hold it in again.

Bradford could feel him tremble. He shifted his hand up to his shoulder and gave it a good squeeze. “I’m sorry, Thadd. Didn’t want you to find out like that…” And he cursed those psionics in his mind. “But sooner or later, we would have had to tell you.”

“It’s okay.” He lied. “It’s ok-kay.” His voice cracked.

It didn’t take long for those good gates to break again. Bradford did his best to comfort him.

Veer eventually returned. To her relief, his vitals were fine. And those psionics were playing nicely.

Sometime later, the sobbing came to an end. He half-heartedly shoved Bradford off so he could have some time to himself. 

Bradford left and came back with some towels so he could clean his face. 

Giving the man space once more, he started chatting with Veer. They went over the readings and her notes. If Thaddeus was willing to endure some psych evaluations in a few hours, and all went well, they could move him to his Quarters sooner. Bradford liked that. Just as he was going to bring the question up to Thaddeus, he had a question for them.

“What do I look like?” The thought had just crossed his mind. His free hand was touching his face, poking at his features. They felt human, but knew something could be off.

Bradford glanced at Veer. She bit her lip. Their expressions weren’t helping.

“Get a mirror.” Veer sighed. “Please.”

Bradford nodded. He left and came back a few minutes later. 

Bradford kept the mirror facing him as he approached Thaddeus. “You still look human. Really, you look like you haven’t aged a day.” That was still a crazy thing to think about. “Minus, you have some new scars and…” He paused. How to describe that eye?

“Quit the pauses and just show me.” Thaddeus said. That commanding tone slipped out.

“It’s something.” He turned the mirror around.

Thaddeus’ eyes went wide. He still looked human and didn’t age day. His head was shaved. Expected. And he had more gray in his eyebrows than he remembered. He noticed the new red scars decorating his nose and part of his face, but those eyes. Those scars around the eyes and the discolored eye got him.

“What…”

He leaned in closer to get a better look. With his finger, he started pulling on the skin and eyelid to see what was going on with that discolored eye. Why is it black…? Why is the iris glowing blue?

It was just several minutes of silence.

“What the hell?” Thaddeus finally pulled back. He looked at the both of them. “Why?”

“No clue.” Bradford shrugged.

“We’re still running tests.” Veer said. “For the eye, I believe it may be connected to your psionics. You seem to be one of the unique ones where there is a permanent eye color change. Though for you, it is just one eye, and the sclera, white of your eye, was affected.”

Thaddeus’ brow twitched. He faintly recalled some psi operatives back during the Old War had permanent eye color changes. Some accepted it. Others were bothered. 

“And we’re hunting for all data related to your imprisonment. Which will take some months to find.” Bradford added. He wished they had a little more time when pulling him from that location to hack the system, but they only had one chance for that operation.

“Great… Great.” He was hoping for answers. Looked like he would have to wait. 

Then something else clicked in his mind. His brow twitched again. He noticed some scarring on his neck. He raised a hand to the back of his neck and began to feel around. The skin felt off. It was rubbery smooth in some areas and then twisted with divots and raised areas. Then he stopped. Something cool, like metal, brushed against his fingers. Hesitantly, his hand explored it.

He caught the grimace crossing Bradford’s face. And Veer was shooting Bradford a concerned look.

“Talk. Now. Both of you.”

———————————————

The psionic sensors went off for a few minutes before things calmed back down in the Infirmary. 

Thaddeus had entered a rage. Thankfully, he didn’t take it out on anyone but the air itself. And the psi shield generator contained the errant energies.

He was more furious at the fact the tattoo he got in memory of his mother was destroyed compared to the strange implants in his back. 

“Why the hell would They touch my back? Did they break my freakn’ spine!?” He spat. A small whiplike projection of psionics shot from his tongue. His eyes were still glowing blue.

“We are still running tests and will be doing more intensive scans soon,” Veer did her best to keep a calm voice, “but we are theorizing something happened to require those implants. Perhaps how you were handled during your capture damaged your spine?” That was her best guess.

“Freakn’ figures.” He grumbled. He clawed at his face with his free hand as he stewed in his thoughts.

Why, why, why? With the technology the Elders had, They had to severely mess up to leave him with such a massive scar. His body shuddered as he felt an all too familiar chill trickle down his spine. Then he felt something tapping at his skull.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

“Oh, for the love of…” He mumbled. “FUCK! OFF!” He snapped, slamming both fists on the bed. Psionic energy arched off of him. His eyes darted around the room, trying to spot the thing. So far there was nothing.

The psionic detectors went off again, and the shield activated.

“Thadd?” Bradford had moved back, pulling Veer along with him. She was mumbling under her breath, worried about how the energy levels were growing.

Thaddeus’ eyes locked onto them. There was a tickle, a worm digging into that unsavory side of him, wanting him to lash out at them for taking so long to save him. Another test of their strength if they were worthy of having him once more. 

No, no, no. He closed his eyes tight. GO. AWAY. He took in and let out several deep breaths until he calmed down.

“Thadd?” Bradford repeated. He was hesitant to come closer.

He looked at them again before looking away. How to mention what has been bothering me without sounding crazy? He let out another sharp exhale. “I… don’t know how to explain… my—” He caught a shadow forming in the corner of his eye and felt something wrap around his shoulder that wasn’t there. He wanted to curse again but held his tongue. “My… outburst.”

Bradford followed where his eyes were going. He nudged Veer. Remember what I mentioned about the mind meld?

She nodded. Yes, let’s see if he’ll talk about it. “Try us.” Veer said.

———————————————

Hesitantly, Thaddeus explained his outburst. He tried to explain the entity pestering him since he had been freed. How it touched, poked, prodded, and whispered into his ear. At least it hated the Elders as much as they did.

Describing what it looked like was impossible. He never got a clear view of its ever-shifting shadow of a mass. But it described its face. Two halves. One stuck in a mad rictus grin. And the other half was frozen with a sorrowful look.

“And it’s currently whispering. Quieter than usual.” His eyes darted to his left. Part of it was there, a weaker presence than how it usually appeared.

To his surprise, the two were not too disturbed, to put it lightly. It was still a troubling development, nonetheless. Bradford explained how they knew. The unexpected mind meld when Thaddeus nearly killed him. But he couldn’t recall what it looked like but hated its twisted presence. 

Veer was an equal amount of intrigued and concerned. This was something else. It hated the Elders. So that just eliminated all of her earlier theories. She had to go back to the drawing board. 

“Well… that is… interesting.” Veer mumbled as she finished up her notes. Looking back at Thaddeus, she noticed how he was grimacing at his shoulder. Part of her wanted to reach out and probe his mind but had a feeling without making several contingencies that thing could latch onto that link and cause problems. 

She rubbed her face a few times as her mind wondered just what the thing was. “Dr. Marin and I are going to have fun trying to figure this out.” She mumbled.

A faint curse from Thaddeus and one of those sensors going off made her refocus.

“Thaddeus,” she spoke calmly but sternly, “keep your wits about you and stay calm. Whatever that thing is, it likes intense emotions.” She recalled that from her mind probing days ago.

Thaddeus looked at the thing once more before looking back at the doctor. He hoped she was right. It took a fair amount of willpower to ignore the thing to get himself calm again. As the seconds ticked by, the thing grew more quiet. It still lingered, but he could barely hear the whispers.

Oh great… That was going to be an on-and-off trial. He wondered how those future psych exams would go, as he knew digging into his fractured mind was sure to bring about unpleasant memories. 

“It’s… quieter. Still lingering.” He eyed his shoulder.

Bradford shook his head. “We will have to keep this confidential. All of it.” Another issue he knew certain individuals on the ship would be all too happy to pounce on.

“Agreed.” Veer said.

“Like the old days.” Thaddeus nodded. Control of information kept their organization from falling apart. 

With things settling back down, Veer shifted drafting her messages to the other doctors. Bradford was sending a memo to reinforce the confidentiality of the Commander’s treatment to all involved.

 Thaddeus let his mind drift again. He wondered how many on the ship he would recognize. Who survived the fall of XCOM? His mind further drifted back to the personnel in the Old Bases. So many good men and women were most likely dead. So many interesting characters, many who butted heads daily.

A soft chuckle left his lips. He wondered if this current XCOM was a band of misfits. 

But as his mind continued to drift, thinking of the conditions they may find the Sister Bases in if they wanted to salvage the old tech. He continued to pick at that wooden necklace; something crossed his mind. Sorrow. A sorrow that didn’t want to leave him as he focused on one of the Sister Bases.

His eyes drifted over to Bradford. They had a shared pain. Reflexively, his body trembled at the thought. He felt fingers run down both sides of his face. And then the whispers picked up.

Ask. Bring up the subject. Both of you are lonely souls. The more sullen voice spoke.

He sighed mentally. Dang it. Regulating his emotions was going to be a pain if that thing would show up whenever he would be off kilter. But its voice was alluring, pressing on that part of him that was painfully curious to hear what his old friend had to say.

His eyes drifted over to the doctor. But first… need the good doctor out of here.

“Dr. Veer.” Thaddeus said.

“Hm? Yes?” She glanced up from her tapping.

“Could you leave? For a while?” He asked. “Need to talk about some private things. And cut the connection.”

Veer raised a brow before glancing at Bradford. He shrugged. She simply nodded. There was a faint twinkle of purple in her eyes. “Done. I’ll still be in the Infirmary.” She got up and left.

Bradford looked at him. There was that sadness again, and annoyance whenever he glanced at his shoulders. And he noticed he was fidgeting with that necklace some more. He started moving over to the bed. I have a feeling he wants to—

“Jynn.” Thaddeus said, as plainly as he could. “Jynn Reeves.”

Bradford froze.

“I saw that memory. The Nigeria Base. You and a salvage team went there.” He said spoke softly. “You never got to tell her, did you?”

Bradford didn’t respond. He saw? He saw? How? How? His mind was racing twice over. One side was trying to figure out how Thaddeus knew and the other was reliving that day. It took some seconds before it clicked. It was obvious how. He looked away from him.

There was silence.

Teeth and fists clenched, Bradford forced that dreadful memory to end. “How could I?” There was a waver in his voice. “How could I?” He repeated as he sat on the edge of the bed. “She was my other boss. You know the rules. And then everything went to hell…”

A faint chuckle came from Thaddeus. He had a point. Rules and regulations. “Right, right. Still… if you got the chance then… would you have told her?”

Bradford was silent for a minute or two. His mouth was moving, but nothing was coming out. It snapped shut before he licked his lips and forced something out. “I… I don’t know.” 

That had crossed his mind a few times over the years, but he just never thought of what he would say or do.

“Hm.” Thaddeus looked away. His mind was picking away at some questions. And working to ignore that being prodding him to be more invasive. “If… If you had the chance now… would you tell her?”

“Now?” A bewildered scoff left his lips. “Thadd… she’s most likely…” He didn’t want to say it. All he could see was the dried blood and the scrap of her uniform and nameplate.

“You,” and Thaddeus emphasized that ‘you’, “and the rest never gave up hope for me. Who’s to say she, Kamon, and Elli aren’t still alive somewhere?”

“I… I…” He stuttered. That was the fixation. An unhealthy obsession to keep me going. For her… those scraps. If They do have her… He didn’t even want to finish the thought. Would she be in a state similar to Thaddeus? And then… would she accept him? “I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t think… I’d have a chance.”

Thaddeus placed a hand on his back. At first it was a few hearty smacks before it became more endearing pats. “Chickenshit.” He snorted. “Now I remember why Corvo liked to pick on that crush.”

He bristled with each pat. Even more so hearing Corvo’s name. “Of course, you remember that…”

Thaddeus just grinned. “If we find her. Shoot your shot. Sparks may just fly.”

“Maybe… maybe.” He was still unsure. And felt like she was most likely dead.

———————————————

Feeling terrible for bringing up such a sensitive and depressive topic, and wanting to get rid of that being whispering in his ear, Thaddeus asked about the ship and her occupants. Something to shift Bradford back into that information and communication role he was so good at. It took a bit before the man got rolling, but the changed topic brightened his mood.

Eventually, tiredness crept back in for Bradford as he struggled to keep his eyes open. It was time for him to get some rest. As he left, he sent Veer back. 

To her surprise, Thaddeus asked what they could do to get him out of the Infirmary and to his supposed Quarters. And have some more privacy so the workers wouldn’t notice him eying his “unwelcome companion” hovering over his shoulder. He was happy it was being more passive, but still annoying.

That was something Veer could agree with as she had a feeling he wouldn’t always keep his outbursts towards that thing inside of his mind.

The psychological tests began and went on for some hours. He cleared nearly all of them, but she wanted to do a few more tests and then run some things by the other doctors.

Within a day or two, Thaddeus was moved to his Quarters and was slowly catching up to speed on everything he missed during his 20-year imprisonment, the inner workings of the Avenger, and the blossoming worldwide Resistance with many Factions they needed to get to work together.

Though it would be a while before he was cleared for active duty, things were slowly coming back to him. Especially, old passwords. He started snooping around and inserting his input for upcoming raids and other operations. Bradford wasn’t sure if he should have been annoyed or thankful. He was leaning more towards the latter with each passing day as the input helped point out potential flaws and different strategies they could use. He could feel a decade of weight falling from his shoulders.

That being came and went with his emotional state, much to his chagrin. Some days, it was more passive than others. He loathed it nonetheless. Especially, the various bits of the poem it would recite.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

With access to a computer, he was finally able to find its origins. 

“Like the Elders, twisting and bastardizing someone’s work.”

He wondered how the thing even knew of the poem. Perhaps he had heard it in his youth and it plucked it from there? It didn’t matter. He just knew he needed to keep his guard up against the thing. He couldn’t wait to be rid of it. If they could figure out how to separate it from him. 

But he felt something. More or so, a lack of something. At least that thing isn’t whispering in my ear. He faintly recalled that wretched shadow and how it pushed and pulled on his emotions. He didn’t like it. The hell was that thing?

His eyes fluttered open, and for once he didn’t have to shut them. Looked like they had dimmed the lights. 

He looked around. He was still in the same room — the “Infirmary” was what they called it. He could tell he was in some smaller section of it due to the curtains and metal sheets surrounding him.

What facility is this? The tech looks advanced but off from the usual ADVENT or alien format. Did something happen at where he was usually kept and they had to use a more “off-the-grid” facility to treat him? No, that made no sense to him. What was going on?

He shifted back and forth, getting some feeling back into his numb limbs. As he tried to lift himself up, he felt a tug around his wrists. He looked down. Restraints. They had thick straps locking him down on the bed.

That’s… different. What? They don’t have the usual meds and psionics to disarm me? Part of his mind was wondering if the people currently holding him were even ADVENT since nothing matched the usual M.O., and he didn’t feel that oppressive psionic force in his mind. But that part of him, the rage buried within, snatched that thought and devoured it.  This is some plow. Another trick. Let’s see how long this game goes before They rip it from me again.

“Ah.” He hissed as a light blinded him. A worker was checking his eyes and making notes. He tried to bite them, but they quickly pulled away. He then spat at them.

“May need to get him a muzzle.” They grumbled as they cleaned their face. 

He only flashed his teeth in response. A wince followed as that headache pulsed and he felt a faint cold run down his spine. He did his best to ignore that latter. 

The worker continued to run some more tests until this Dr. Veer arrived. 

“How is he?” She asked, voice laced with weariness. She sounded older woman. And looked like one too as she came into his view. 

There was some gray in her brown hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail. Deep bags and many wrinkles accentuated eyes that had seen many things. Those eyes, there was an odd electronic twinkle he noticed in them. Why?

 As he questioned that, the doctor turned her head to one of the workers, and then he saw something that made his face twist into a scowl. It was partially covered by her hair, but he saw the faintest red of what he knew was some kind of  neural implant lining the side of her head. If he remembered correctly, only a rare few would receive those to enhance their work.

“Okay, so far.” The worker answered. “Word of warning, he will try to bite you if you come close. And he spat at me.”

“Don’t care to be polite to the Elders’ worms.” Thaddeus spoke.

Veer glanced at him before shooing the worker away. 

“You understand us. Good.” She was pleased a language barrier wasn’t going to be an issue.

She was already making mental notes, taking note of his expression and the faint tink of the restraints being tested. “We’re not ADVENT. We’re not working for the Elders. If you could take one second to look around at your surroundings.” She gestured around. “Not as pretty as their Gene Clinics or as visceral as the… facility labs.” She hesitated to mention the latter. 

He scoffed. “The looks don’t matter. Not the first lab I’ve been dissected in. Been in all kinds of labs. And I see your implants. Going to probe my mind? Tear it apart and rewrite things?” 

She narrowed her eyes, a faint spark of purple coursed through the green, before she closed them fully. “I have forsaken that life, long ago. If I could remove them, I would.”

He scoffed again. “Sympathy ploy. Doing this game again, huh?”

Just as he finished, a hiss left his lips as that headache grew. He didn’t hear the doctor’s soft rebuttal and her asking questions about what he thought they were going to “do” to him. His whole body trembled as if felt like someone ran ice down his spine.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright… Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay…

Instantly, Thaddeus froze. His eyes shrank to mere pinpricks as they darted around the room. Not that damn voice again.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. It finished its regiments of a fragment of a poem.

Ah! That honeyed voice spoke, excited. Soon that sad aw from its other half followed.

There was no trace of it in the room. Yet. Just the doctor — yapping on about something — and the few workers currently handling scans and the other systems. 

You’re still alive. Both voices spoke in unison.

Thaddeus held back a gasp. The cold sensation grew. He could feel it. That thing was right by him. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel those loathsome limbs touching his back, running up and down his spine before wrapping around his being in that strange embrace.

The systems took note of the slightly erratic changes in Thaddeus’ brain waves. Veer told the workers to keep note of that and any other changes. And ordered someone to get some painkillers in the IV. 

What a… marvelous turn of events. That honeyed voice tickled his left ear. Perhaps this place is your salvation? Or damnation? It stayed on the left for a moment before switching to the right and that sad voice. This could be reality. Or just another falsehood. Still, there was no trace of the thing. 

“SHUT UP.” Thaddeus suddenly snapped. His eyes locked onto Veer. Those implants. Must be those implants. “Out. Of. My. Head.” Each word was followed by an ever-increasing sneer.

Veer seemed barely phased by the sudden outburst compared to the rest. She took in a slow, deep breath, closing her eyes, before letting it out. “I doubt you’re reacting to what I’ve asked.” She had timed his zone out. About two minutes had passed. “The painkillers should take the edge off of your headache shortly. So again —”

Ah. A new doctor. That cold embrace began to pull away from him. He finally saw it. That shadow of wisps appeared in the corner of his eye before more coalesced into existence as a shifting cloud drifted over to the doctor. 

A long, twisted arm took shape as it raised a hand to touch the side of her head. Those implants. As it did so, faint wisps of purple formed. I sense her… capabilities. Blessed like you, but to a different degree. In a way, lesser to what you are, you will be capable of… again.

Its faces took shape. In a way, it seemed to split in half, allowing each half to hang on either side of her face. The question is… Is she friend or foe?

“SHUT UP!” He could feel that thing tug at his brain again. Tug at that rage. He wouldn’t let it. 

Again, Veer remained unfazed. She’d just have to take a new approach. No more questions. If that was what was making him zone out. 

One worker came over to the doctor and whispered something into her ear. She just shook her head, told them to contact Dr. Marin, and told them and the others to go attend to the others in the Infirmary. She also told them to inform Bradford and the others of the updates as soon as the trio arrived. 

Everyone quickly wrapped up their work before making themselves scarce.

Turning her attention back to him, Veer grabbed a rolling chair and moved it closer to the bed before sitting down. She didn’t say anything as she took a look at her tablet. Checking the latest data on his vitals. Those brainwaves and psionics. That was a new concern. Everything else looked good so far.

“I can’t assume what the Elders did to you…” And she could only guess. “But this isn’t a ploy. This isn’t some mind game. This isn’t some simulation.” She did her best to reinforce her naturally tired voice to sound more hopeful. “You’re out of Their clutches, out of the system. You’re in safe hands. Old familiar hands. We are XCOM.”

Doing his best to ignore that looming shadow creature that was just over her shoulder, Thaddeus listened to her, carefully studying her voice and mannerisms. She looked like so many of those scientists the Elders ‘employed’ to Their high-security facilities to slave away day and night on inhuman experiments. Those who struggled to maintain their humanity and rarely took the “reeducation” sessions looked dead on the inside. 

He noticed that creature’s face coming back together, and it was doing its touching thing again. This damn thing. How does she not notice it?

She sounds truthful, no? But is she truly? Hard to tell with these therapists. It then shifted to her other side. Or was it interrogator? Re-educator? Rehabilitator? They have so many names and roles that cross paths.

Each word tapped away at Thaddeus’ psyche. Picking at that perpetual distrust making it grow worse. And a chisel was chipping away at that lock, holding back the rage he didn’t want it to get at. 

“Shut. Up.” He spoke through his teeth. It was aimed at the thing, but also a little at her. 

She sounded truthful to him. But then again, those implants. That faint purple twinkle in her eyes. He knew she was a psion. Possibly the cause of that alien haunting him. But… he couldn’t feel that distinctive touch of psionics on his mind. She’s making it. And your senses are still dull. He quickly reconciled that issue in his mind. He wouldn’t drop his guard. But then she mentioned that. She just had to mention that. That chisel gouged deep.

“Keep that name out of your mouth!” He spat. 

Veer narrowed her eyes for but a moment. Her mind quickly reanalyzed what she spoke. She figured it out. “You may not believe me, but I speak the truth. We are XCOM.”

“Liar.” Nothing she said could convince him otherwise. Switch topics, don’t want to hear this crap. “So what’s wrong this time with me? With the system? With the suit?”

She only raised a brow. Now he was asking questions. An unexpected change. 

“Now you’re keeping your lips sealed?” He scoffed. “Not like I’ll remember the details when you put me back under. Just wish you all would mess up once and overdose me.”

She was about to speak until a worker came back in and rushed over to her. They whispered in her ear. “John, Corvo, and Shay are here, doctor. Updated on all things.”

“Good. Send them in. And make sure no one else comes in here. Unless it’s the other head doctors.” Veer said. They nodded and went away.

Thaddeus barely caught the whisper. Only one name sounded faintly familiar. And that voice seemed to perk hearing it. His memories were a blur, but he recalled a John that had been there since they got him out of that suit and then the face of the man bloodied with a crooked nose. A few more details for the latter came to his mind.

“I broke his hand.” He mumbled to himself. A chuckle slipped out. I wonder if he put in a complaint to the Elders for some form of recompense for that. I’d do it again.

———————————————

Some moments later, three people came into view. Two men and a woman. 

So he still lives. That creature was already hovering around Bradford. Eying him from head to toe and touching him. It pointed out his reset nose and the condition of the broken hand. 

You didn’t kill him. The two spoke as one, yet the honeyed voice was more displeased and the sad one sounded relieved. Good. They both returned to their “normal”. This is all… promising.  

Thaddeus ignored it.

He recognized Bradford. A faint grin crept across his face. There was a splint across the man’s nose that had blooming purple bruises. The grin grew larger when he noticed Bradford’s right hand in a brace. Still has the knife, though looks more secured. That would be an annoyance if he got the chance to get it.

Now the other two. He didn’t recognize them but took note of the man’s height and muscle mass. He’ll be tough to overpower.

Bradford noticed that grin. A brow of concern was raised in reply. Why was he grinning like that? It was pure glee mixed with malice.

“How is he, doctor?” He asked.

“Awake and responsive…  But…” Veer paused. How to put it in simple terms?

“But?” He gestured for her to continue.

“He’s rude, combative, belligerent. Ready to bite if you come too close.” Thaddeus spoke up, taking on a mocking tone. “I’m sorry, did you want to say that?”

That caught Bradford off guard. It felt so out of character for the man he once knew. Shay raised her brows. Corvo held in a snicker.

Veer just shook her head. “As you can see, he’s going to be a tough case to crack.”

“I see.” Bradford nodded. “How far have you gotten?”

“Barely scratched the surface before you arrived. He strongly believes we are ADVENT and believes this,” she gestured around them, “is a mind game.” 

“Not the first time you lot have done this.” Thaddeus growled.

“And he reacts rather poorly to—” She cut herself off. She didn’t want to agitate him again. Instead, she tapped away at her tablet before flipping it towards them. They saw it. The symbol of XCOM.

“Oh, heh, that’s going to be tricky.” Corvo commented.

“Very. Lucky we’re not wearing our uniforms with that on it.” Shay whispered.

“Hm.” Bradford grumbled. Looks like they had their work cut out for them.

He looked back at Veer. “Mind if I step in?”

“Go ahead, you may have better luck than I. I will be monitoring.” Before she would roll away, she showed him one last thing on her tablet. Thaddeus’ brainwaves and the psionic activity. Both were active and something was agitating them. He nodded. 

He stepped forward. “Thaddeus...” His voice trailed off. Where to begin?

“You know my name? Tch. Not that hard to get it. Besides America’s military files, you lot rifled through my brain repeatedly.”

Oh, no, no no! Suddenly, the voice chastised him. In a blink of an eye, it was over by him. Behind him. Embracing him once more. Listen! Listen! That gnarled hand snuck its way under his chin and grabbed it, holding it tight. 

Thaddeus froze for a moment, but pulled himself free. He cursed. That got him odd looks from the others.

See what you can learn. Are there holes that can be poked in this game? That hand was holding his chin firm again. No? Then this may be reality. Freedom. Yet… It dropped into a low whisper, hissing like a snake.  They need to be tested. Are they worthy of having you back?

Thaddeus wretched his head free from it again. His head snapped towards the doctor. That discolored left eye of his was glowing a brighter blue. “Out. Of. My. Head.” 

Bradford glanced at her. 

Veer closed her eyes as an annoyed, sad sigh slipped out. “He thinks I’m tapping at his mind. I’m not.”

“Hm.” Bradford mumbled. Part of him wondered what made him jump to that conclusion. He looked at Thaddeus. Those eyes were still filled with malice. How to pierce it. “Listen, we’re not ADVENT. We fight them. Been fighting them for a long time.” He only got a scoff in return.

Where to start? Where to start? Bradford’s mind was trying to reorder what he and Veer had gone over a few days before. Thaddeus’ current attitude was throwing him off.

The beginning. Let’s start with names and XCOM. Carefully like, Veer said. And the same with anything about family. He nodded at the small voice in his mind helping him regain his focus.

“Let’s start with names. You’re Thaddeus Seaver. No middle name. You preferred going by Thadd, if I recall correctly.” He said.

Thaddeus barely reacted. That was something so simple even a scrawny Sectoid could pull from someone’s brain with enough time.

“I’m John. John Bradford.” He pointed at himself. “Does that ring a bell?”

Thaddeus raised a brow in return. What was he playing at? “Same bastard whose face and hand I broke? Right?” He grinned as he asked that. Even more so when that voice poked at that terrible part of him that wanted to do it again.

Bradford’s brow twitched even more when he heard Corvo snort. “Yes… but it goes deeper than that. You know me. I’m an old friend from the past.”

Thaddeus winced, jerking his head to the side when he felt that creature’s fingers drag across the side of his face again.

Oh. Someone who knows you more… intimately? A wheezed laugh turned into a mad cackle. It’s been a while since They did that ploy. Ah, close bonds, ready to be torn to shreds again.

“Quiet.” Thaddeus hissed under his breath. He did his best to keep his voice low. He could tell no one else could see or hear the thing. He didn’t want to know what would happen if they thought he was losing his mind.

He refocused his mind on what Bradford had said. That route again. You bastards love retreading things. He hated to admit it, but that thing poking at his mind was right.  Despite feeling it was more tricks, he studied the man’s face and tried to match it to someone from the past. But those memories were distant. Nothing about his face or voice was recognizable to him. They must be slipping. 

Bradford watched the man’s emotions shift as he assumed the man was searching his thoughts. Pondering. Annoyance. Anger. Confusion.

After a few moments, Thaddeus’ face shifted back to annoyance. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Of course. Bradford knew this wouldn’t be easy. “Maybe you’ll recognize these two.” He gestured for Corvo and Shay to come forward. “Corvo and Shay Samaras.” He gestured at each one respectively before pausing. “Shay, what was your last name before you two got hitched?”

“Parker.” She answered.

“Shay Parker…” He let it roll off his tongue. “Right, I remember it now.”

“Age clouding that mind of yours, Johnny?” Corvo teased. “Need me to write down all the changed names and couples for you?

“Hon.” Shay jabbed him in the side, which only got a grunted laugh.

“Not the time, Corvo.” He replied tersely.

Thaddeus’ body shuddered. His vision went dark for but a second as shadows wicked past it. As it returned, he saw that the creature was now by the trio doing its usual “investigation” dance and already making comments on their appearances. He held in a reflexive sigh of relief. Now if only that thing would stay away or disappear entirely. 

Doing his best to ignore its comments, he looked the two up and down. Wait… maybe. Something about the bald one’s face. 

Something about Corvo was familiar. He had a certain noble, calm, but imposing look to him. That deep voice. And then that tease. Such a quick jab that got under the skin of Bradford. 

He studied his face some more. Those eyes were an icy blue that somehow contained warmth even, with the faint wrinkles at the corners. A faint crack-like scar with up from his left chin past the top of his lips. And then wrapping around the right side of his face below and above his eye was a nasty scar. What did you tango with to cause that? Something about all of it, minus the nasty scar, felt familiar. 

And then Shay. She looked more friendly than her husband, at first glance, but he could tell she was just as dangerous as him. Just from the quick jab she gave her husband, he saw how her muscles rippled against the tightness of her sleeves. Some of her black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, with some falling in front of her face as messy bangs. Her brown eyes barely had a wrinkle touching them. She bore no scars on her face compared to her husband. There were some on her arms. Looked to be shrapnel and bullet-related. None of that felt familiar, but her face did. There was something about that face.

“Dammit.” A curse slipped from his lips. It was from his mind trying to drag a memory to the surface; broken and fragmented, as usual. And then that thing was poking at his brain. It had itself all wrapped around Shay. 

She seems familiar? I sense something from you. It said. What is it?

The memory was on the cusp of forming. Something from his time a XCOM. A visit to the Armory. It looked to be a surprise inspection concerning some prototype laser weaponry fresh from R&D. Just as Shay’s face came into view, the memory fell apart.

Thaddeus hissed. Another painful trickle in his mind. My mind’s shot or that doctor is doing something. 

He let out an annoyed snort.  “Are these names supposed to matter?”

Bradford held back a reflexive grumble. He cursed in his mind. “Yes. They are.”

“Not ringing a bell. Your ploy sucks.”

“Maybe titles will help?” Shay suggested.

Corvo nodded. “Worth a shot. Bring up the old and new.”

“Right, right.” Bradford mumbled. “Our titles while we were apart—” he paused as he glanced at Dr. Veer. She mouthed “carefully.” “We were a part of a military organization,” a mild sidestep for now, “I was the Central Communication Officer. I’m still that with our current organization. And the… Acting Commander.” The latter role was more than he expected. He questioned how Thaddeus and the others handled it back in the past without going mad.

He then gestured towards Corvo and Shay.

Corvo grinned. “I was one of the Drill Instructors at the Main HQ. Keep the troops in line, especially those Gene-Modded soldiers that were a little too eager to use their new abilities.” He said, holding back a laugh. But a tear was forming in his eye. “Ah, how many times did those with the leg mods drag you and the other Co-Commanders into the vents? They never stopped, even with the punishments we rolled out.”

The others snorted at the mention of that.

Shay cleared her throat, trying to stifle a laugh. “I was one of the Armourers. Keep our equipment maintained and detailed counts on all our supplies, and the soldiers properly stocked for their operations. Occasionally, I and the others assisted the R&D teams in their efforts in creating weaponry and reverse engineering the aliens’ plasma weaponry. Neat stuff.”

As they all gave their titles and how they performed their jobs, Thaddeus winced as a headache came on. More memories were surfacing. Still, they were scattered and foggy, but he could sense the basic context of them. They all dealt with XCOM. A few were slowly coming together, clearing up and revealing faces. Old co-workers. Old friends. So many died when the bases were attacked. Could these three be survivors?

Ah, remembering more or the past? That being took notice. In a blink of an eye, it was right back next to him. Prodding. Touching. Whispering. Oh! Is there a lick of truth in their words? 

He did his best to ignore it, but it was near impossible with its constant intruding making the headache worse. It intensified for a moment, as his mind recalled something that matched what Corvo had said earlier.

Thaddeus was walking the halls to that underground base. Half sleep deprived because of triple back-to-back operations, he still had enough of his faculties to stop and discuss something with one of the engineers when he suddenly froze. To those in the hall, they heard him curse and saw wrinkles suddenly appear on his uniform. To him, he felt someone’s arms wrap around his torso tightly before suddenly being thrust into the ceiling where another arm grabbed him by his jacket collar. And that arm tingled. He saw the culprit. Their skin had a faint shimmering, electric glow to it. A glow that matched their orange eyes, whose pupils shifted in size.

Afternoon Commander! Heard you needed some perking up!

The two clowns got a proper dressing down once he was back on the ground. They were lucky — especially the soldier with the Mimetic Skin — he didn’t attack them.

“Ah.” Thaddeus hissed. His head dipped down. It felt like forever before it came to an end. And the same with the others. Was it a true memory or an implanted one? He could tell. That made him curse a few times under his breath in English and Arabic; which only increased when that thing started whispering nonsense again.

Another vision of the past of XCOM. Truth? Or falsehood?

He ignored it. But his mind went back to how Bradford started part of the discussion. “I know what you’re skirting around.” His eyes narrowed. 

Bradford just gestured for him to continue. 

“XCOM. You bastards have tampered with my mind a lot, but I wasn’t born yesterday.” The harsh glare shifted over to Veer. “I know what you’re doing. The bullshit the Elders would always do.”

Less skirting around that. Bradford looked over at Veer.

She sighed and shrugged. “He thinks I’m using psionics.” She tapped at the side of her head. Each tap touched one of her covered implants.  “He noticed them.”

“And…?” Bradford didn’t think she was.

“I’m not.” She said. “Let’s not skirt around the subject anymore.”

“Right.” Bradford nodded. He then looked at Thaddeus.“Yes. We’re talking about X—”

“Keep. That. Name. Out. Of. Your. Mouth.” Each word was spoken through barred teeth.

“X…COM.” Bradford continued. A faint irritation slipped in. Part of him understood why Thaddeus was so aggressive, but another part of him hated being accused of being a liar. He would say it some more, even it if set him off. “We are XCOM,” Thaddeus was another to snap again, but he spoke over him, “not ADVENT, and sure as hell not a trick of those damn Elders.”

Thaddeus scoffed. “You’re doing a poor job of proving it.” Those eyes rolled a few times. “Let’s get this over with. Knock me out already. I’m not giving you the information you want. Just rip it from it already, or would that damage the ‘prized asset’.”

Another faint wince crossed Thaddeus’ face. He grimaced more as he felt that thing grab, if not, caress his chin.

It let out an annoyed sigh. That honeyed voice was still dominant. Awww, giving up so soon? They’ve barely begun.

“Just be quiet! All of you!” Thaddeus snapped.

Bradford cursed under his breath a few times. That outburst made no sense, as well as what he said before it. He looked back at Veer. “Figure out what he’s talking about, doc.” He then took some steps back and gestured for Corvo and Shay to follow a good way’s way to make sure Thaddeus didn’t hear them. They needed a new plan.

Dr. Veer got to work on trying to get an answer and poke some holes in his logic. He wasn’t biting, even if what she said made logical sense. She noticed a few spikes concerning his brainwave and psionic activity. Nothing too worrying, but she could tell there was something agitating him. She just wasn’t sure it is was their presence or something else.

“They’ve screwed with his brain something fierce.” Corvo said. 

“I think he’s recalling something. I can see it in his eyes for just a second before it disappears.” Shay had noticed that. “But he’s so damaged and defensive he doesn’t want to acknowledge it.”

“He keeps calling what we’re doing a trick or a ploy. Any guess why?” Bradford asked. Maybe if they could break his mind’s hold on that, they could get somewhere.

“Dr. Veer mentioned he thinks she’s using psionics.” Shay said.

“Hm.” Corvo mumbled as he tapped his lip. “Ah.” Something came to mind. “This reminds me of some of the people we’ve rescued over the years. Especially, the more psionically inclined people.”

Bradford thought for a moment until something clicked. “Yuri.” One of their Specialists they all had a feeling he was a potential psion but just hadn’t had the time to test that.

Shay’s demeanor dropped at the mention of one of their older operatives. He wasn’t a survivor of XCOM. “That poor man was a nervous wreck for months until we finally got Dr. Veer back on the ship, and then one of those Templars helped.”

“One of the special cases.” Corvo nodded. “We had to keep him in the prison block for everyone’s safety after the Infirmary incident. Even had to dress up some of the workers in ADVENT clothing to make him cooperate. Anything different would set him off thinking they were messing with his head to make him turn on his friends again.”

“And from what Dr. Veer and that Templar said, they had done that to him and some others. Brainwashed them just enough to make them think they were escaping only for them to give up secrets of their allies leading to some Havens being slaughtered and more test subjects captured.” Bradford shook his head.

Being reminded of that made it more clear why Thaddeus was being so hostile and belligerent. 

“There has to be something we can bring up that’ll get to him.” Bradford mumbled.

“Keep talking about the past?” Shay suggested. That’s all she had. 

Corvo shook his head. “He’s mentioned his mind has been rifled through. He would expect we’re just repeating what we’ve ‘seen’.”

“True, but!” She grinned. “Probing doesn’t always get the finer details of those conversations. Especially that human touch. How we’ve busted some ambushes over the years.” She loved how most of the aliens, and ADVENT, didn’t get the various human mannerisms from the cultures that still remained. It gave them one leg up in their fight against them. “We definitely had some inside jokes back then that may tickle his brain.”

“Hm… true, true.” He nodded. “And maybe we can bring in family. Didn’t he have a girlfriend too?”

“We are not bringing up her.” Bradford was quick to shut that down.

Corvo raised a brow. “Is that a problem? Was it a secret? Like…” He paused as he grinned and leaned down to get in his face. “Like your crush on Jynn?”

Bradford’s cheeks flushed. Though fingers curled into fists; he kept them at his sides. “No, Corvo. His fiancée is dead.”

That grin quickly disappeared as he pulled himself back. “Shit. I forgot.” Shay smacked the back of his head for good measure.

It took a moment for Bradford’s anger to simmer down. “It’s been some time since we been to the Haven in-between France and Italy.” He shook his head. 

What a shocking day that was. And a burden he was given to carry until they found Thaddeus. They had him now, and that burden felt oppressively heavy. He wanted to cut that anchor free, but knew the consequences could be dire. “Hm.” But a thought crossed his mind.

They gestured for him to speak.

“You’ve given me an idea. I’ll be back, but you guys start with his name and some things that happened in the past.” He turned on his heels and quickly left the Infirmary.

Corvo and Shay looked at each other and shrugged. 

“So what’s some of the most memorable thing that happened back at the old base?” Shay asked.

“I have some ideas.” Corvo grinned. “Let’s slowly roll into that.”

The two heading back over. 

———————————————

Thaddeus was giving the doctor a hard time. He noticed the two had come back and Bradford was missing. And that thing couldn’t help but point that out a few times.

“Tch. Has your boss run off?” He snarked.

Corvo just smiled. “No. He just forgot something. But let’s talk.”

“Thaddeus Seaver.” Shay starts. “Commander Thaddeus Seaver. Pretty quickly, you told us we call you Thad in private. You were pretty chill. Like the other three once we got to know you all.”

“But you all knew when to cut the shit and dress down any insubordination like the good Commander that you were.” Corvo jumped. “You and Jynn had a way with words, but you and Elli weren’t afraid to get physically involved when that extra layer of discipline was needed. Ha.” He laughed hard, causing tears to well up in his eyes. He had to recompose himself before he spoke again. “Aw man,” he wiped away the tears, “Shay, remember when he body slammed one of the Grenadiers that was in full kit after they snuck up on him Mimetic Skin?” 

Shay tapped away at her lip for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Yes!” She shook her head. He broke something the R&D team wasn’t too pleased to repair. But the idiot deserved it. And don’t get me started on those leg mods.”

Corvo let out a loud belly laugh. “I think all of them hated that the most. Especially Jynn, since she was the tallest. Got her head banged several times in those vents whenever one would grab her.”

“I think Elli got a guard dog to combat that and Kamon ‘borrowed’ one of the SHIV drones to be his guard dog.” She said.

“Heh, heh, heh, no matter how many rules we put in place, those Gene-modded soldiers love to pull pranks on the staff. And happened in the others basses when the three transferred out.”

At first, Thaddeus’ expression barely changed from the thinly veiled ire he held against them. But as they spoke, it dropped as a series of headaches struck him. 

That rictus grin of the being grew, feeling the pain. Sensing what was coming. Ah. Are more memories rising? Perhaps more truths? Then its voice switched to the more sullen one as it went to the other side of his face. Or lies. More of that doctor… that witch’s touch?  

More memories were rising from the depths of his damaged mind. Working to reassert themselves; correct the tampering and suppression that was done to them. Each thing they spoke of flashed through his mind. The little incidents here and there. Him having to discipline the most unruly and troublemaking with more physical tactics, especially those Gene-modded soldiers.

It all felt so real.

No, no, no. More tricks. More lies. He didn’t believe his memories. He wasn’t sure if he could trust them. Some details matched up precisely with what the two had to say. Others varied by a hair’s width on some details. 

“Shut up!” He snapped at them. Especially at the voice. “You’re lying!”

The two glanced at each other. Corvo rolled his eyes. The outburst didn’t stop them. 

Corvo continued to bring up more incidents, a few that were off-record, and then Shay brought up some specific operation incidents.

As they continued to tell their tales, the headache continued to hammer away at Thaddeus’ skull. He tried to tune them out. Ignore their lies as more of his “memories” came to the surface. But it felt so real to a part of him. And that being wasn’t helping. The voices switched back and forth. And each one switched back and forth on whether it was positive or negative. Was this thing trying to help him or make him worse? He assumed the latter, as he could feel his anger rising again.

Need to shut them up. He began to pull against his restraints, wriggling his wrists around slowly trying to find a spot that would let widen it just enough. None of this is true. He told himself. But part of him was starting to doubt that. 

———————————————

It took about ten minutes before Bradford was back.

“And the incident after the Newfoundland operation. That poor village.” Shay shook her head. Just one of the many places they had to firebomb to keep the Chryssalids in check.

“Oh, that.” Corvo shook his head. A faint glint of anger crossed his face. “Some idiots thought it was smart to rig up one of the Chrysalid corpses to spook Jynn just before she was being transferred to another base. The damn idiots poisoned her.”

“At least the medical team had some extra antivenom on standby.” Shay said.

“Right.” He nodded. “Though it was funny when she decked the idiot for his mistake.”

“And she nearly bit my head off when I had to restrain her when she went after the ringleaders.” Bradford jumped into the conversation. He shook his head, remembering the incident but chuckled. “She tore into them. Especially Beckart. Who knew she had a mouth like a sailor. ” 

Corvo let out a hearty laugh. “That antivenom treatment really messed were her system for some days.”

  As Bradford approached them, he had a box in his hands. It was a small clamshell box decorated with various plants and flowers. 

Ah, their leader is back. And he brings a gift.  The being took notice. It left Thaddeus’ side and whisked itself over to Bradford. Its hands were all over the box. What is in here?

“How’s the storytelling going?” Bradford asked.

Just as Corvo and Shay were about to speak, Thaddeus spoke first.

“Poorly.” He sneered. “Your tactics need more work. These ‘memories’ aren’t going to cut it.”

Bradford glanced at Shay and Corvo.

“I think they’re working. He’s just in denial.” Corvo crossed his arms. 

“Okay, then let’s get more personal. A time before XCOM.” Bradford said as he stepped closer to the bed and set the box down. He didn’t open it.

Veer shot him a look, hearing what he said. “Bradford…” She didn’t need to continue.

“I know what I’m doing.” He calmed her down. He knew he had to play his cards carefully.

“You and I crossed paths before XCOM. Sometime in the early 2000s. If I remember correctly, it was in Alaska or Greenland. Can’t remember, which but it was cold.” Bradford reflexively shivered, thinking about it. “It was a joint training exercise between the branches and a few countries, as the Brass liked for ‘those guys in Intelligence to get out and stretch their legs’.” He rolled his eyes but laughed.

Thaddeus winced. One that soon made him grimace. Not again. A strong memory was being dredged up.

Thaddeus’ eyes darted to the box and then to that thing was still poking at it, both halves of its obscured face were looking at him. Its mouths began to mouth. SHUT UP! He mentally sneered. It laughed, but stayed quiet.

 Bradford continued with his story. “If I remember correctly, you were a Brigadier General in the U.S. Air Force. You were a pilot at some point before being pulled. You never got a straight answer for that if I remember correctly,” he grumbled, thinking of the files he was given when he was selected for XCOM,  “and then your file had a lot of things blacklisted regarding that decision.”

Thaddeus’ grimace grew. That memory was cracking the surface. He could feel this was different from all the others. It was painful, but the pain felt less intense.

The memory. It was a memory that could never be tampered with or suppressed, no matter how hard the aliens tried. That decision broke and angered him when he received it. He never got a straight answer. Just he was barred from ever flying again and had a new promotion. Promotion. He scoffed in his mind. It was and it wasn’t. He just bit his tongue back then and continued on. He didn’t want to be discharged and bring shame to himself and his family.

“Back to the joint training.” Bradford got himself back on track. “We crossed paths throughout that training period and you were a mean Training Instructor. Remember you putting up with a lot of jokes about your hair.” 

Bradford looked at him. Currently, his friend’s head was completely shaved. But he could remember how his hair looked back during XCOM, back during that joint training exercise, so clearly. A semi-messy mop of black hair with a steak of white running through the middle. A trait he inherited from his mom.

“Skunk tail.” Bradford chuckled.

Dr. Veer stifled a snort.

Corvo snorted, and Shay held snicker in a snicker. They remembered hearing that a lot back at the old HQ.

“And I remember you putting a hothead in their place after they questioned your ‘girly’ tattoos.” Raising a hand, Bradford brought it towards the tattoo on his left wrist. The braided together rose thorny stems. He stopped as soon as he heard the restraints tighten and noticed those deceptively strong “atrophied” muscles ripple. Wisely, he pulled back his hand and gestured to it.

“You took off your hat and shirt to not get it dirty before the fight started. The guy cracked some more distasteful remarks, seeing the other flower tattoos on your sides, back, and neck that weren’t covered up per regulations.”

As he continued on with the story of the beatdown that followed and somehow Thaddeus avoided getting reprimanded, more memories struck Thaddeus. Just like when Corvo and Shay were sharing memories of their time with I’m at XCOM, but these felt less… tampered with. Less pulled at. Like the Elders had skipped over them as they weren’t so important. The headache was as bad as ever, but it wasn’t a constant stream of pain as the memories pieced themselves together. Part of him was doubting what was being said less and less. There was still a part of him that wanted to deny it, but it all felt so different compared to the others.

Engrossed by these odd feelings, he didn’t notice the being had come back to him. Sweeping behind him, it took him into that cold embrace. The sullen side let out a sigh. This pain is different. There is more truth than lies in what he says. Then the voices switched. That honeyed sighed a cackled. But are they still worthy to have you again? Can they truly protect you in the long run?

He looked at Bradford again, barely acknowledging what the being was saying to him. Just who are you? He was trying to match his face with someone from the past. There was a John slowly coming to his mind, but they looked nothing alike. The one in the past looked a little softer but serious as ever. And the man before him looked hardened, cynical like he had been aged in whiskey and pain.

Can they be the same man? They look so different. Sound so different. How many years did they keep mentioning days ago?

He nearly tuned the man out as he tried to recall that time gap until he heard the next subject Bradford brought up.

“Also, had the pleasure of meeting your cousins, all fighter pilots as that runs in the family. A tradition of sorts you told us.” Bradford laughed. More or so of what he was going to say next. He struggled to keep a straight face. “And how you would deal with them. A rowdy bunch. Especially when a few of them who brought up that you all should do some ‘oil wrestling’ for the local ladies.” He even did a little brow waggle.

Corvo choked on his spit, causing him to let out several pained wheezes.

Shay spurted before fully breaking into a laugh. “Are you serious?” It sounded unbelievable. “How come I’ve never heard this?”

“He hates it being mentioned.” Bradford tried his best to keep himself in check. ”Especially the photos from his teens.”

“No, way! There were photos!? Oh, I have to see those!” Even she couldn’t help but indulge in something embarrassing for the Commander.

Corvo sputtered more Several loud smacks followed as he beat his chest to get himself back together. “If they still exist.”

“Check the old archives.” Bedford said. “Faintly remember someone uploaded them as prank and were never properly scrubbed.” 

“Noted.”

Thaddeus hissed. Another set of memories struck him. This time the pain was more constant, like the ones from XCOM. Memories of his family, military life, operations he had been in, and more. Once the Elders greedily pilfered. But the feeling came in waves. Ebbing and flowing with no rhyme or reason. Shifting and reasserting themselves into proper order. Tethering themselves to that one strong memory of how he lost his wings and received his “promotion.” Something about those specific memories was fixing the others, clearing away the fog.

What is this feeling? Can’t make heads or tails of it. Everything about my cousins, my family, seems true. Their names. What are their names? 

He grasped at the memory of the ones who brought up that old pastime in their youth. It hurt for a moment before the pain quickly faded. He prayed that meant it wasn’t tampered with.

“Alan, Aslan, and Yusuf…” He muttered the names of three of his younger cousins as he lowered his head. More pleasant memories of them graced his mind. It was all bittersweet.

“Huh?” Bradford barely caught that. “Repeat that?”

“Alan, Aslan, and Yusuf…” He repeated louder. He wasn’t sure why he did that. “They always liked bringing that up. A choke hold of a headlock usually shuts them up.” He chuckled, recalling that. He was bigger than the three and always used that to his advantage. 

“Alan, Aslan, Yusuf…” Bradford quietly mumbled to himself. It had been ages, but the names sounded familiar. He repeated them a few times before his eyes lit up. That sounded right. “I remember that. You had to wait until you all were ‘off-duty’ before you could terrorize them.”

A chuckle slipped from Thaddeus. One he wanted to bite back and swallow it. You’re getting comfortable. Don’t get comfortable. This is still a ploy. Just that cynical and rage-filled part of him wanted to believe that. And that thing was prodding, but thankfully silent.

Bradford leaned back and mouthed to Corvo and Shay, “I think we’re making progress.” They nodded.

“Despite all the nonsense that happened during the exercise, we shared a few drinks and stories before parting ways.” Drinks. A drink sounded good right now to Bradford. But a low alcohol content so he could drink more than one bottle. 

I wonder if Warren and Kit have finished working on that cider with the science gals. A faint smile crossed his face. Something their resident mountain man and homegrown distiller had been experimenting with one of the science teams. Little to no content alcohol. Something for those who had issues with alcohol but still wanted the taste. And something for the Hybridized to enjoy. Wait… drinks… Drinks! That key detail! How could I forget?

“Actually, I was the one enjoying the drinks. I had a few beers. You stuck with water or some other kind of beverage. I thought you were strait-laced for the longest because of your position, and would be back on duty soon, heh.” He paused again. How wrong he was. “Turned out it was a family problem. Mom’s side. Made you cautious of the stuff and dislike those that abused it and made excuses for their actions.”

And you would kill me if you knew how badly I gave into the bottle when we lost. He grimaced at himself. 

Thaddeus winced. Another memory, the pain was short and before washing away. Another one barely touched. Perhaps the Elders despised such things?

Hm? That voice sensed something was different. There was anger behind the memory, but it tasted quite different from everything before. Not to the Elders, but… familial… What is it? It grasped at his throat. Speak it!

“Dislike…?” Thaddeus’ voice trailed off into a whisper. “Despise.” He hissed. An old anger was welling inside of him. “Hate.” He said a little louder with a trailing growl. “Damn abusive, sexist drunks!” Raising his voice, raising his head, he spat, but not at them. “Her entire family is a write-off ‘cept a few of them that cut themselves off from the lot.”

“You said as much.” Bradford nodded. Somehow, the anger on his friend’s face was different but familiar. The same anger that showed its head whenever something would remind him of that side of the family he disliked.

He let the moment linger until Thaddeus’ breathing became more stable.

“Going to continue your story?” Thaddeus spoke. His mind continued to teether back and forth on if this was real or just fake. Both parts of him wanted to entertain it. What else did this man have to tell? And that thing next to him was hungry to know more, too.

“I do.” Bradford nodded. “We didn’t meet again until XCOM was re-initiated.” He paused to gauge his attention. He noticed the wince and faint frown crossed Thaddeus’ face, but the man did nothing else. “Who knew you’d been the main boss of the operation? Still, find it funny I knew all four of you from different parts of my life.”

“The Council didn’t find it so funny. The stuck-up bunch.” Corvo just had to butt in. Annoyance was evident in his voice. “Especially you and Jynn.”

“Corvo…” Bradford glared at him. 

“Jynn… Jynn…?” Thaddeus said quietly to himself. That name sounded familiar. The memory hurt, and it hurt a lot as he pulled at it. “Jynn… Reeves… Childhood friends?” He muttered a question he meant to keep to himself.

“Yes. We have known each other since we were teens. She and her brother, Charles. We were close friends. Best friends really.” There was a warmth to his voice as he spoke about them. “The Council was worried about a ‘conflict of interests’. Took a lot of talking to get them off our backs.”

“They still gave you guys trouble from time to time.” Corvo said.

“When did then never?” Shay rolled her eyes.

“They liked testing. Wanted to make sure their funding wasn’t being wasted.” Bradford said.

“Some… of the members… were nicer than others.” Thaddeus spoke in a stilted manner as the pain was more continuous. This will be harder to parse. They ravaged these memories repeatedly. “I think that… Spokesman tried to play fair… same with Australia, Japan, Egypt, and the U.S.’s representatives. I… think.” Why did you add that?

“They were all… fickle in their own ways.” Bradford couldn’t recall everyone’s personalities but knew each one butted heads with each XCOM branch leader in a different way. Everyone wanted them to cater to them in a specific way, while ignoring how impossible it was. 

“But back to us meeting again.” Bradford didn’t want to dwell on that aspect of the past any more than he had to. “It took us a while to remember each other, but what helped jog my memory were your tattoos. You stopped covering the one on your neck up. You said it was too much work, and the concealer was making you break out.” 

He eyed that neck. The scar that wrapped around the back of Thaddeus’ neck and descended down his back. That tattoo didn’t exist anymore. He knew he was going to hate seeing that. Just what did They do to him?

Another wince, one less painful than usual. He couldn’t tell if he was pulling the memory pre or during XCOM. He recalled having to use concealer while he was with the Air Force. How he beat himself up not double-checking the no-go areas for tattoos. But before XCOM, he got shifted around to some other positions where they were a little more lax on him covering those tattoos. He wondered if those positions were preparing him for what was coming.

Maybe… Maybe this is all real. That angry and cynical part of his mind was growing quiet. It was still raging, refusing to believe everything that was being said, but the more logical and hopeful side of him believed he wasn’t in ADVENT’s hands. 

It took home to act as the anchor for the other memories. The voice commented. The anchor allows the others to reassert their truth, and there are similarities to what he and the others speak. It found it all so interesting. Its voice dropped into a low whisper. Hold onto that rage. A small insurance. Truth is spoken now, but all it takes is one lie to break the facade. 

“So, over the few years…” Bradford’s voice trailed off. He had to keep himself from talking about the inevitable assault on all the bases. He knew Thaddeus was all too aware of that, but he just didn’t want to speak it. “I got to know you better, despite the hell happening across the world. Same with the others.”

The faintest sigh slipped out from Bradford. The memories were painful for him. 

 “You explained the meaning behind the tattoos one late night, we got to unwind for a few hours. How they were all done by your…” He hesitated, a little longer than he wanted to. Just talk like she’s still alive. “Fiancée. She was a good artist.”

The others tensed, not expecting him to mention that. They expected the worse, but Thaddeus barely reacted.

“She was a great artist.” A faint tease came from Thaddeues. As quick as it came, sadness enveloped his face. 

“Right, right. Forgive my inaccurate description.” Bradford joked right back to try and liven the mood. A chuckle slipped out, but the man’s sullen expression didn’t change. Does he know? Or is that how he felt during the War when he couldn’t just whisk her away from danger? He wasn’t going to press.

“Your neck, I think what was on it was baby’s breath?” He wasn’t familiar with the flower and was hoping what was in the old archives was accurate. “A favorite of your mother’s and a way to remember her as—”

“Yeah, baby’s breath.” Thaddeus’ sullen mood barely changed. He grimaced as an old memory came forth. Why? Why? Why? “Cancer took her after I graduated from the Airmanship program and got my pilot wings?” How life could be so cruel. He was happy she saw that day and got to meet his fiancée and loved her, but why did cancer have to take her so soon? At least she didn’t live to die by the aliens… Damn… how much of my family did I lose? How many did I send to their deaths? He could feel that being tugging, whispering about the “cruelties of life” and the reckoning the Elders would face. He ignored it. 

“And you told us how you got into mass—”

“Got in massive trouble with my superiors, as that was a no-go area for tattoos. Had to cover it up.” Thaddeus finished the sentence. It had been said so many times before. But he could remember that dressing down that happened and he refused to get it removed. 

Bradford smiled. More positive progress. He hoped.

“Then the one on your left thighs that ran up the left side of your chest.” At least that one was mostly untouched. A little of that scarring on his back affected it. “You got it in—”

“In memory of a friend. A fellow pilot.” Thaddeus interrupted again. His face was pained. The memory was disjointed. Why can’t I remember their name? Their face?

“Right. If I recall correctly, they were… ginkgo leaves?” A faint nod from Thaddeus confirmed his guess. “It was his favorite plant, and you found it neat. Told us how he had one where the cuttings were passed down through generations. He gave you some. You didn’t have much of a green thumb and sent it to your parents and then when you met your fiancée, you gave the rest to her.”

Everything sounded right to Thaddeus. His mother loved the gift. His father jokingly said their house was enough of a greenhouse. And his fiancée was delighted to receive such a gift. Why can’t I remember their name? Their face? That was bothering him. 

“And then the big four. Well, big two, as your shoulder tats are mirrored.” Bradford chuckled.

He wanted to lean over and tap each side of his shoulder but knew touch was still a tentative thing with the man.

“Walking advertisement for your fiancée, who was your girlfriend when you got them. You were head over heels for her, from what your cousins would blabber on about.”

Fiancée. Fiancée… Why is she distant from my mind? The memories of her were distant. He struggled to drag a fraction of them to his mind; every second of it hurt. It was foggy, still distant, but he could see his love form. A heavier-set woman that was full of life. Why can’t I see her face? And her name… Why is her name distant? Why can’t I remember her name? Tears fell from his eyes. That was tearing at him. Mention her name. Please mention her name.

He closed his eyes tight as a wave  of pain radiated through his body. It only grew worse with that thing whispering in his ear. It was the sad half, joining in his pleas to remember her name.

Then that honeyed half was whispering disquieting thoughts that this was just subtle mental torture. That other side of him listening to that. Slowly clawing its way back. This was just the morsel of mental torture it had been waiting for them to afflict.

Bradford continued on, unaware of the inner turmoil building inside of his friend’s mind. He noticed the falling tears but chalked that up to what he hoped were more pleasant memories going through his mind.

“And the two thorny rose stems twisted together. One on your upper arm and the other just above your left wrist.” He noticed the straps strained for a second. Muscles contracted and relaxed. He was looking at them. Good. “Your fiancee’s favorite flower despite its dangerous prick. And your ‘engagement rings’. Interesting choice.”

Yeah… that’s correct. Thaddeus unconsciously nodded along. But her name. Say her name, dammit!

“You said you hated—”

“Anything on my fingers and a ring would be a nuisance on the job. I’ve seen someone de-gloved once and didn’t want to experience it.” Thaddeus cut him off. 

Something else that made Bradford smile. “Right. You said as much. But you two did come up with an alternative. One you could wear and hide.”

Ah! Finally, the box! The being was excited to see what it held.

That caught Thaddeus’ attention. He lifted his head.

Bradford shifted his attention back to the box he had placed on the bed since he came back. He opened, keeping the top half held in such a way to keep Thaddeus from seeing the inside. With his other hand, he pulled out something.

It looked to be a long black chain necklace at first, but there was another object attached to it. It was a pale brown, gnarled, and carved object with a few dark spots. It was looped onto the necklace through a hole at the are it bulged out and took on a faint diamond shape.

Thaddeus studied the object for some time before it fully hit him. 

No, no, no. Impossible.

The memories were flowing, painful, and sweet. A delightful surprise, she sprung on him before he had to go overseas. If only he knew he was being selected to lead XCOM.

Thaddeus cringed. He felt a tingle course around him before in his mind he heard something wet and rough rip apart. The being literally pulled itself apart. Shadows whisked and whipped about. One half stayed with Thaddeus as the other shifted over to Bradford. I taste the pain. The questioning. They used this against you constantly. The cruelest of tortures to one’s heart. Is it real or fake?

He tried his best to ignore the sad thing. They could never get this right. It always looked wrong when They messed with my mind. But this… this… is it? Wait… He paused as he studied it more. It was his. Wait no. It was her’s. His fiancée. No, no, no. The details. This is real. This is real.

It is! Real! Both halves spoke in unison.

“One of her oldest projects. A memory from her childhood home that burned down. Old driftwood earrings given new life to be turned into necklaces.” Bradford did his best to recall what he was told ages ago. He carefully raised it higher so it could be seen. He saw the shifts of emotion in his eyes. He hoped he wasn’t causing too much pain. “She was sure a talented artist from everything you showed us.”

“That’s...” Thaddeus uttered some words he couldn’t stop. He leaned towards it. He wanted to reach out, snatch it away from him. But a hard strain on his wrists reminded him he couldn’t. “That’s...” Why can’t I remember her name?

Bradford took notice. Should he? No, still too risky. His emotions are volatile. Instead, he dropped the necklace in Thaddeus’ hand and gently closed it. With that, he took a step back to the others.

“Let’s see how this goes.” He mumbled under his breath. He winced as he felt something tap on his mind. He glanced at Veer. She was looking at him. Eyes twinkling purple. She had a hand raised, blocking the side of her face near Thaddeus. He simply nodded.

You best hope he can’t tell that’s hers. Veer spoke in his mind. This emotional rollercoaster has been making it hard for me to gauge his vitals. His brain activity has been all over the place. And then there’s some psionic activity.

He sighed mentally. I know. But with how he’s been acting… it was worth the risk. And sorr— What about the psionics?

Thaddeus carefully rolled that necklace in his hand. The wood felt so familiar to him. Some smooth parts here. Nicks there. And the few areas where she had whittled it to get the shape just right. How he loved his wore it under his shirt whenever he could.

“Lauretta.” He whispered her name. It finally came back to him.

He ignored the sounds of the being pulling itself back together. He ignored it fully coming back over to him and wrapping him in the cold embrace once more. The sad half spoke, almost matching his pain. You finally call her name. How… How it sounds so sweet. So sweet. So sweet. 

Painfully, Thaddeus’ mind drifted back to the Old War. The few phone calls he would have with her when work and time permitted. How terrified she sounded tore at his heart and she was worried for him as she knew he was in the military. He wished he could tell her what he was doing. He wished he could send someone to whisk her and her parents away and bring her to one of the bases. But he knew protocols. Family didn’t get special treatment unless you had a good excuse. Even then, it was usually denied. All he could do was pray she could find a safe haven somewhere.

The rest of that rage died out as more tears began to flow.

The thing noticed. It did not speak. Yet, he could feel a shift in its strange being. That side honeyed side that liked to poke and agitate, felt sad. While that more sullen side felt more happy. Such a strange thing.

“So,” Corvo spoke in a hushed voice as nudged Bradford, “is that his or hers?”

“Hers.”Bradford whispered back. 

His eyes widened in shock. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s worth the risk. Pray he can’t tell them apart.”

“Dandelion… where are you?” Thaddeus muttered. A nickname she liked. He continued to fiddle with the piece of wood. Nails picked at every little cut.  He almost felt like he could envision how she worked the wood.

“Hm?” But he felt something. A faint “spark” in the wood. The feeling was subtle at first until it grew more and more with each passing second. As his eyes refocused on the wood, he saw faint blue sparks and swirls coming into view around his hands. As they grew more visible, those sparks swiftly traveled up his arm, neck, and into his head. 

“The hell!?” He opened his hand to drop the wood. Instead, his grip only tightened around it as a memory took him. That discolored eye of his brightened and the other eye, in turn, was consumed by a glowing blue.

Hm… This is… different. The two voices of the being spoke before de-syncing. There was a shift in the personalities again. A ticking time bomb! Left for you, no one else. The side with the rictus grin began to cackle like made. The sad one wept.

This should be interesting. It nestled its head right on his shoulder and whispered. Another piece of the puzzle to your life. Wrapped in guilt. Sealed up tight. I taste the emotional turmoil that’s coming. 

Veer was the first to notice. Several notifications appeared on her tablet. All of his vitals were beginning to spike, with the most serious being his brainwave and psionic activity. “What…” She glanced up from her tablet to look at him and then back. She paused before looking back at him once again. She saw the psionic energy forming around him. “Oh, that is not good.”

The psionic detection sensors went off a second later. That alerted the others.

Bradford looked at Thaddeus. He blinked and shook his head. Where did those blue psionics come from? “What the hell?” He looked at Veer. “Doctor.”

She was on her feet and moving towards Thaddeus with caution. “I’m as stumped as you are. It’s not coming from the outside. It’s all him.” For a moment, she activated her psionics to see if she could glimpse what was going on only to quickly cut them off as a force rushed towards her. She recoiled just from how sudden it was even though it didn’t hit her; she took several steps back, nearly tripping over her feet.

“Veer.” Bradford moved to stabilize her.

She shook her head several times before she got her bearings again. “Thank you… Everyone, keep your distance. These psionics will not play nice.”

“It looks like he’s in some sort of trance.” Shay said. She noticed he was stiff as a board and his face was frozen in shock.

“Any ideas, doctor?” Bradford asked.

She shook her head. “I’m… hesitant to reach out again. Whatever is going on is… unpleasant. I’ll message Dr. Marin to see if he can bring up some dampening devices. We wait and keep our distance.”

And they did so.

———————————————

For Thaddeus. He was seeing disjointed memories. Not his, but his fiancée’s. Her time before, during, and after the war. She… survived? For a moment, his heart fluttered with joy. Or did she? But something didn’t feel right.

He saw how she lived in an ADVENT-controlled settlement for some time before some Resistance Cell liberated it before they were either going to be “processed” or shipped off to some city. That Cell whisked all who were willing away into the “untamed wilds” — the Elders so lovingly liked to call non-ADVENT cities and settlements — and to a Haven. It was a rough adjustment for many, but somehow Lauretta thrived. She swiftly became go-to person for all things related to homesteading, especially agriculture, despite her more “goth” look.

He saw she rarely took off her engagement necklace unless she had nights she was mourning him. She wondered if I was still alive. His heart ached.

And then he saw something else that made his heart ache more. Some years later, another man came into her life. His name was distant to him. There was a spark, a connection. But… she rejected it. Her feelings were mixed, she liked the man. He had a wonderful personality and great companion, but she still believed Thaddeus was alive, and just couldn’t move on until she had confirmation. The man took the rejection well. To her surprise, he wanted to learn more about her fiancé. She shared what she was comfortable with and it all helped him understand why she didn’t want to give up on him.

No. No. No. He cried in his mind and out loud. And then the worst came. He felt his mind breaking. Out of nowhere, her health began to fail. Nothing the medics could do could fix it. There was no Black Market they could access to get alien tech, nor did any of the current Factions exist at the time. The only way to treat her would be to take her to one of the ADVENT settlements with a medical center or one of the cities for the gene clinics. She didn’t want that. 

She died in that haven. Free from the aliens. 

The memory shifted to the man’s POV. He kept all her things and stored them away. Just in case he would ever cross paths with this Thaddeus.

If then flashed forward. He wasn’t sure by how many years. But he saw a familiar face. Bradford’s. Looked like his small team had stumbled across the Haven during one of their scouting missions for supplies and intel. It was a nice secluded place where they could catch their bearings. They did some bartering, helped them improve their defenses, offered some weapons training, and got their radio setup fixed. 

Somehow the man was speaking to Bradford when the conversation ended up on old friends and Thaddeus’ name was mentioned. The man asked if he was talking about Thaddeus Seaver. Bradford cautiously raised a brow but nodded. The man had Bradford follow him back to his shack where he retrieved the box and showed it to him. He told him who it belonged to. It took some time before it all clicked for Bradford. He was shocked. What were the chances? But that shock slipped into a more sullen mood. He asked the man about her. A nod confirmed his fears. How was he going to break the news to Thaddeus when they found him? If he ever would find him.

At first, Bradford didn’t want to take the box, but the man insisted. He said he would most likely cross paths with Thaddeus again as it sounded like his group had the means to travel the world, while he stuck to the Haven. Before he let Bradford return to his comrades. He showed him where Lauretta was buried under a strawberry tree. It was a simple marker that had her name and an epitaph. Per aspera ad astra.

———————————————

“No, no, no.” Thaddeus whispered a cry again. 

She was dead. He didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. But something about these memories felt so real to him. The Elders had never fabricated something like this before. 

This has to be fake. This has to be fake. This has to be fake. His mind spiraled.

Aw…. A painful imprint of a memory. Both sides of the creature sounded genuinely saddened and hurt. Barely aware of it, it wrapped around him tighter. Pressing its face against the side of his. It continued to speak in hushed whispers, laced with a hiss. The river always finds the sea. Yet… that sea… your sea… is… long gone.

“No, no, no.” Thaddeus whispered to himself. His mind was trying to ignore the creature.

The sullen voice disappeared as the more honeyed one took over. Don’t deny it! You can feel the truth as we can! Taste it! It hissed more. Do not deny what tears down and rebuilds. They did this to you. Those so-called Elders. It then took its hand, gently grabbed his chin, and directed his vision to the others. And these people saved you. Revealed to you the truth. Still… they need to be tested, if they are to be your… true salvation… and how this world is to be… liberated. 

Thaddeus tried to ignore it, tried to fight it, but its grip was strong and those words were enticing. They pressed and chiseled at his already fractured mental state to draw forth that rage buried deep within.

His mind worked to twist its words. Twist the memories, the reality he saw. This is fake. Not real. He ignored the being saying otherwise. Another fake. A setup by Them. They’re doing it again. It’s that doctor. That damn doctor and her psionics. Yes, yes, yes, yes. THAT.

“I think he’s coming back.” Shay said. She had noticed him blinking, muttering, and shifting his head.

“But the psionics are still going.” Corvo said. “And why are they blue?”

“Color is not important.” Veer said. She was still no closer to figuring out what caused it or how to stop it. “ Just keep your distance. The levels are still high. Hope Marin gets here quick. Contacted security too, just in case.”

In spite of the doctor’s warnings, Bradford had inched closer, but not too close. He was looking his friend up and down. The tears never stopped flowing, and he had the necklace in a death grip. “What caused this…?” The most obvious to him was the sensitive subject they treaded, but they should have activated much earlier. He felt terrible that he caused this. He just hoped this wouldn’t set them back. 

“What caused… no.” His eyes refocused on the hand clutching the necklace. Of all things. “I’m going to try something.”

“What?” Veer glanced up from her tablet. Her brow twitched. “John! I suggest you do—”

She was too late. 

Bradford had reached down and worked to pry open that hand. Just as he did so, Thaddeus snapped out of the haze. As he did, both eyes glowed brighter. Tears were still flowing down his face, but those eyes, those eyes, were filled with that rage again.

“BASTARDS AND YOUR MIND TRICKS!” Thaddeus snapped. The psionic energy around him sparked. A bolt shot from him and hit Bradford, causing the man to fall back. Several smaller jolts shot down his body and to his restraints and cracked the metal holding the bands.

“Shit!” Bradford cursed. His head spun for a moment as he tried to get his bearings.

“I gotcha.” Corvo got him back on his feet and away from the mess.

“Where. Is. She?” Thaddeus snarled. With a pop and a few metallic pings, he pulled one arm free from the restraints. “What did you do to her?” There was another pop and several pings. His other arm was free. Two more pops and pings followed. His legs touched the floor. Shakily.

Her. Everyone noticed that.

Bradford cursed. Did he pick up his hesitation when mentioning her? Did he recognize the necklace was hers? Or it’s something with these damn psioncis? 

“Where. Is. She?” Thaddeus repeated. He eyed each one of them. Who would talk? Who would he have to break to get some answers? 

With each passing second, his psionics were growing more erratic. An occasional spike followed when that being tried to speak to him.

Veer cursed as she felt a fluctuation in the energies. Dropping her tablet in a heartbeat, she outstretched her hands. There was a flash of purple in her eyes; the same colored energy erupted from her hands. Just as it did, just as that tablet clattered against the floor, a blue bolt of energy lashed out towards them. It cracked against the still-forming shield she threw up, splinting into a crackling spiderweb.

She held the shield for a few seconds until it suddenly burst with a ringing ping. She cried in pain as she was thrown back. 

“Veer!” Bradford yelled. Shay moved to get her.

Thaddeus’ eyes locked onto the fallen doctor. She was twitching, body twisting on itself in pure agony as that blue and purple energy fought for dominance. He hissed in pain as he felt something whip back at him, sending painful arching pain across his skull before it dissipated. I knew it. 

Now, she’ll know your pain… perhaps… press it further?

Bradford noticed Thaddeus’ eyes focus on Veer. He noticed those fists clenching. Shit.

His body moved on its own, pulling away from Corvo.

“John!” Corvo tried grabbing the back of his shirt, but he just missed him.

Before Thaddeus had a chance to strike again, Bradford was on him. The tackle was hard, causing both of them to crash into the bed — which, thankfully, had been locked down. He hissed, feeling that all too familiar bite of angered psionics strike him. He pushed through it.

Ah, this one again. The being unraveled itself from Thaddeus as the two fought. I wonder if he—

“Calm. Down.” Bradford fought to keep himself from yelling as he wrestled to get a grip on those fists. “Argh!” One slipped through. His nose was broken again.

HA! Again! It laughed. He has a knife. What damage can it do?

“He’s going for your knife!” Corvo said. Just as he was taking a step to assist, that psionic energy erupting from Thaddeus had grown stronger and forced him back. Instead, he switched to assisting Shay to pull Dr. Veer to safety. 

Dr. Marin finally showed up with some security. As they reached the back of the room, they quickly realized the situation was more dire than what they were prepared for. He had to leave to see if he could find one of their old Psi Shields, or prototypes, so someone could get close to the case.

Bradford’s eye caught where that free hand was going. One strap popped open. The time to be gentle was over. With a roar of anger, Bradford kicked Thaddeus’ legs from under him and slammed him to the ground.

The sudden slam disoriented Thaddeus long enough for Bradford to get behind him and put him in a choke hold. He tried talking some sense into him.

“Calm dow—FUCK!” The new position just made his face — nose — vulnerable to a series of bone-crunching headbutts. It only took two more before positions shifted again.

The voice continued to laugh. As the rictus grin reveled in the madness, the more sullen sighed whispered. Will he be able to break your rage? Will you listen? Or will you kill him?

The two men thrashed back and forth. One moment, Thaddeus had the upper hand with him trying to break Bradford’s face even more only for things to get turned around when he went for that knife again. Another moment, Bradford had the advantage just for a split second. He took his knife out and threw it over to Corvo. One less dangerous weapon on the field.

There was a loud, audible snap. A sharp pain surged through Bradford’s hand and arm. He cursed. Oh, for fucks sa— He held back a scream as Thaddeus kept crushing his right hand. He didn’t realize the pain was disarming him until he found himself flipped over and his back hitting the floor. 

As he tried to recover, several sharp stabs struck at his mind. He gasped as his pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks. The pain grew worse as he felt those psionics tear into his mind.

 He gasped again as Thaddeus’ hands wrapped around his neck and squeezed. And squeezed. And squeezed. Shit! How the hell is he so strong? He might kill me. 

“Tha—Thad… DeUS…” The words barely came out. “NOT…y—YoUR… ENemY… Fr-friEND…LIES.” His hands flew up to his neck, clawing at those hands, to make the choking stop. Well, hand, the other was broken. “FrIIEEN….DLIEs.”

The creature danced and weaved around the two with the shapeless shadow of a mass, as it observed the fight. As Thaddeus had Bradford pinned again and was choking the life out of him, it let out a long, dramatic sigh. What a pity… That honeyed said, disappointed. Weakness. Perhaps this “XCOM” is too weak for you to be truly your sal—

“Die. Bastard. Die. Die. Die.” Thaddeus ignored it. His voice trailed off into a near-hushed whisper as he squeezed harder and harder. A twisted smile crept across his face as he watched Bradford struggle. Watched those once irritated eyes fill with fear and struggle to stay open. If only I could inflict a fraction of the pain you all did to me, but Them losing you shou—

Thaddeus let out a cry of pain as another psionic snapback on his mind. It made the world pulse, causing his grip to falter for a second, but he quickly regained it. Was it that psion of a doctor again? That interrogator is ne—

There was another cry of pain. This time, it felt like something was biting at his mind. His grip held firm. What the he— The pain hit him again. And again. And again.

He barely noticed Bradford was mimicking his pain now — as well as his eyes were glowing with that blue energy — with each snapback and spike until he felt something different.

Oh? The creature took notice of this. It dropped to the floor, its mass spread over both. Shadows coalesced into twisted limbs and a coiling body. What do I sense now? What do I taste?

Like it usually did, it did its investigations. Hands, limbs, whatever it was touching everything and everywhere. A poke here. A prod there. But it noticed something different. Bradford’s expression. The man’s eyes darted between Thaddeus and it.

Oh? It drew back from a moment, shocked. Ooooooh! That grin grew more impossibly large. It moved closer to him and touched his face. Bradford tried pulling back. You can see me? Or sense me? A melding must be taking place.

How…. It took a breath. The mass oscillated. Interesting. It was… excited.

It shuddered again. Something was shifting and forming the accidental Mind Meld that was forming. Its other half began to weep. Despair. Despair. Despair.

The other half cackled. Another twisted and tied gift. This shall be interesting. It drew itself closer to Bradford, sensing he was the source. You won’t remember me when all this is over… Or will you?

———————————————

In-between the waves, Thaddeus was feeling the other mind connect to his. A pained one. Not as pained as his, but he could feel the years of anger and anguish hung heavily on this soul. Then the avalanche of memories hit. The cause of it all. He saw that day. The day XCOM fell. From another perspective. It was… Bradford’s.

He and Thaddeus were covering each other’s backs, trying to get the situation under control until another series of explosions separated the two. And before they could get back to each other, that upgraded Muton came down on Thaddeus and captured him. 

He saw how Bradford barely escaped the fallen base with his life. There was so much pain and guilt he couldn’t save anyone else. The constant thought plagued him for years. Were there any other survivors?

Things got worse for a few weeks before it all “stabilized” when he found some like-minded people. They kept to the wilds, avoiding ADVENT and the aliens as they fought back the best they could. Allies came and went over the years. He became more irritable and cynical. Even more so when from time to time they would encounter bandits running with the old colors of XCOM terrorizing Havens. He hated that.

The years continued. Little changed. Either his best friend, a fine bottle of alcohol, would kill him, or the aliens would. Part of him just wanted to… give up.

But one day, some of that cynicism lifted ran into actual survivors from the Main HQ and auxiliary bases one fateful day. At first, things were tense until some old codewords were used and he and another person remember each other. That’s when he learned XCOM was still alive. They were scattered, but still alive. Slowly rebuilding itself and building up the Resistance Cells across the globe. But they were still headless. Mostly headless. Dr. Shen and Dr. Vahlen were still alive. He couldn’t believe it.

A modicum of hope came back to him. He was in. And he was just what they needed to get XCOM organized again. It took some time for him to meet up with Dr. Shen’s part of the group, as traveling to different countries was always difficult with ADVENT patrols and checkpoints. And crossing the ocean. HA! That was impossible. But an odd fledgling Faction that came to be, the Void Walkers, helped. Seeing that old man face to face, and so many other familiar faces, brought more light back into that cold heart of his. 

Bradford wasn’t too thrilled to find himself thrusted into the role of Acting Commander after getting up to speed on everything, but most felt like he would be best for the job since he worked closely with the main Commander and the others. He made everyone refer to him as Central. Made the job somewhat easier. But thinking about those Commanders… He got mixed stories on what happened to the others. Killed. Captured. Missing. There was no straight answer, except for Thaddeus. He could remember that day clearly. 

That’s when he heard a theory the Senior Staff had been keeping under wraps. A theory that sounded so far-fetched. A fool’s errand. But the way ADVENT worked, how those mind-linked soldiers could quickly turn any fight in their favor. Especially, XCOM’s old tactics — how they had to switch to guerrilla warfare and on the fly tactics to survive. There was no way the Elders were directing that. Someone else had to be. Someone They had captured. Commander Thaddeus. Or one of the others if they weren’t killed.

The theory sounded insane. So far-fetched. But it made sense. Bradford became obsessed with it. It kept his mind together — most days for better and worse — and he focused on rebuilding XCOM from the shadow of what it had become.

The years ticked by. They worked on the Avenger. They spread out, setting up Resistance Cells and bolstering Havens. They gain more allies. Meet various Factions — friend or foe. And learned more sickening truths about ADVENT.

Then there was one excursion to one of the Sister Branches. Africa. Nigeria. One “close” to where the Avenger was stationed. Probably the only one they would be able to access in years. But that excursion… it hurt him.

Thaddeus could feel an overwhelming amount of sorrow course through the memory.

He saw Bradford standing in the desolated remains of that base’s Mission Control. Bodies, human and alien, scattered and crushed by the debris. Many rotted or desiccated. But he was standing in one spot. His rifle hanging slack by its strap as he was holding something in his hands. Rectangular and black, attached to torn dark blue cloth. Fingers were slowly rolling over the bloodstained text. It was a nameplate. Reeves.

There was no body nearby that wore her uniform. Scans revealed no traces of her DNA under the debris. But all around him on the ground was blood. Dried, brown blood, and a lot of it. Scans revealed some of it was her’s. Most likely… she was dead. Tears were falling from his eyes.

It took one of his allies, a close friend, to get him moving and back on the task. But he was hurting for the rest of the day. One drink turned into several. It got worse once they got back to the Avenger. 

That landing pad was looking mighty tempting some days. It took a knock-down drag-out fight with Corvo to snap some sense back into him, a lot of therapy, and some newish young blood that joined XCOM sometime before his latest depressive mood. They smacked some hope back into him.

He got better. But that pain never left him.

———————————————

Thaddeus felt his eyes snap to as those memories finally released him. Blinking his eyes several times, those pupils bounced around, not looking at anything in particular.

“What the…” 

That rage-filled part of his mind didn’t want to believe what he saw. It was another trick. All of it. But the other part of him could tell this was all too real. Especially that sorrow. A lost love. It felt all too real.

The creature had pulled itself away from the two. It hugged itself. It tore at itself. It’s mass shifting, splitting, and reforming itself several times. Both sides cackled in pure insanity. Both sides wept, consumed by grief. The pain. The sorrow. It is all… ecstasy!

The vice grip around Bradford’s neck began to loosen. The man gasped for air and sputtered several times. He was just on the verge of blacking out.

“Damn…” Bradford croaked. Way too close. He pressed his head back against the cold metal floor and closed his eyes for just a second. His head was spinning. His heart was pounding. It hurt to breathe and the blood running from his nose down the back of his throat didn’t help. And what the hell was that thing? His eyes looked around for what he knew he saw and felt earlier, but couldn’t see it. But he could hear faint laughing and crying. Log it for later. He closed his eyes again and took in deep breaths.

Just as it felt like his heart was no longer trying to escape his chest, he felt those hard thuds again. But these were different. Sluggish. Off-beat. Coming from the outside. And he heard sobbing.

 He opened his eyes and raised his head. Slowly.

It was Thaddeus, beating at his chest weakly with his fists. Tears were streaming down the man’s face. His eyes were closed tight and his lips were twisted into a sad grimace. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no.”  Thaddeus quietly sobbed.

Bradford blinked a few times. The hell now. First, the man was trying to kill them, kill him. Then, that weird thing creeping about. And now this. The mood whiplashes were confusing him.

“It’s you… It’s you…” Thaddeus said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

It’s you. It’s you. The words repeated a few times before it clicked for Bradford. Was he finally remembering?

Hushed whispers and careful boot steps caught Bradford’s attention. His eye glanced over. Two guards were coming over. One was holding one of those Psi-dampening collars. A third was following with Dr. Marin in tow who looked to be holding a needle.

Shit! This could make him snap again. He quickly flailed his broken hand around, fighting through the pain. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” The words came out hushed but strong. They stopped. “Back off.”

“Sir?” One guard said. 

“John,” Marin looked at him like he was crazy, “this may be our only chan—”

“Now!” Bradford said through gritted teeth.

They backed off.

Bradford slowly worked his way from under Thaddeus, somehow getting the man to stop beating his chest and move off of him without causing a commotion. Slowly, he raised himself up. His lower half was numb.

“Ah…” He rolled his jaw a few times. He was thankful it wasn’t broken. He leaned on his good hand and looked at his friend again, sitting across from him.

The man looked utterly broken. Thaddeus had a vacant stare. Those eyes were wide open and trembling. His lips quivered as continued to repeat he was sorry with “she’s dead. Lauretta’s dead” interspersed every now and then.

Bradford let out a sharp exhale. He moved closer. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. With a blink, those eyes snapped onto him. “I’m…” What could he say? “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.” 

“Why?” Thaddeus asked. “Why? Why? Why? Why?” Each one became weaker and weaker until he just broke down sobbing again.

Not something he could answer. He asked the same question many days. 

Bradford pulled on that shoulder a few times until he got Thaddeus to budge. The man fell into his chest and just continued to cry. Bradford wrapped his arm around him. It just felt like the right thing to do.

They stayed like that for hours. The others refocused on securing the room, putting up some psionic shielding for future incidents, and helping Dr. Veer. The psionic attack on her being had come to an end, but she wasn’t doing too well.

Bradford just continued to comfort his friend. He never uttered a word.

Despite his mind and senses were still in a haze from the sudden meld and asphyxiation, he was picking up something was lingering around them. His eyes darted around, trying to see it, but nothing was there. Occasionally, he heard a whisper. One that made his skin crawl.

Ah! The grief. The sorrow! The creature laughed, too close for comfort. Bradford shuttered as he felt many limbs touch and wrap around him. Ties that bind. Drink deep of it. This XCOM has proven itself… for now. More trials and tribulations will come in the future.

Bradford’s eyes darted around again. For a second, in the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the creature. That face shifted between that grin and the crying one.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. It whispered its leitmotif before disappearing. 

Bradford felt part of his body relax as he felt that agitating alien presence leave. What the hell was that thing? He had dealt with several psionic nuisances — and he assumed it was one — but nothing like that. It was a strange malevolent presence that was trying to be… encouraging. Either way, he didn’t like it. 

The image of the thing was slipping from his mind despite his best efforts to keep it. He just hoped he could remember something so he could tell Veer. 

———————————————

It felt like forever before Thaddeus finally grew quiet. He was out cold. With the help of Corvo and Shay, they got him off Bradford and back on the bed. Per protocol, they restrained him again, much to Bradford’s annoyance. They needed to take those precautions just in case.

Once that was done, they got Bradford up and over to a free bed to get his injuries checked. Another broken nose and hand again. Strangely, his hand was already healing. The bones had been reset. Scans indicated psionic energy was at work, which only confused the medical team.

Bradford quietly told off Dr. Marin when he wanted to put a collar on Thaddeus. He felt like this would cause more problems than help, but to get him to shut up, he told them they could use them if things changed.

Dr. Veer was out of commission for the rest of the day as her body and mind were still reeling from the psionic attack. But she gave some instructions on what they should do and that she wanted detailed notes and recordings if they got Thaddeus talking again before she was escorted from the Infirmary.

With his injuries treated, Bradford discussed a few things with Corvo and Shay on what they should update the other Senior Staff with regarding the Commander, and what topics they might bring up with him once he was awake. Once that was done, he dismissed them.

Before he would take his leave, Bradford went back over to Thaddeus. He looked calmer. His face remained damp; his lips trembled faintly. His heart ached for his friend.

“The Elders did a number on you in more ways than one.” He shook his head. “And… something else.” 

Just as he was about to leave, he felt something under his boot. Looking down and shifting his foot, it was the necklace. He bent down and picked it up. He let it dangle in front of his face. His eyes carefully studied the unassuming piece of driftwood.

“Is there something special about you? Or was that a coincidence?” 

He glanced back over at Thaddeus. Should he?

“It couldn’t hurt.” He hoped. 

Taking a step back to the bed, he dropped the necklace into Thaddeus’ hand and gently closed it.

“Rest well, friend.”