[NB] Fortress Ea

[Karl Jak]

While not as lavish as Enkidu, Fortress Ea is a much more militant structure, owing to its position as the 'wartime' command center of Gilgamesh.

 

[Elise]

Twelve days ago…​

“Knock over the Hell Diver castle, right. Princess dipshit.” Elise muttered as she walked away from the briefing room. The vampire had given Azula her day to negotiate with Altanis, and nothing had come of it. Strazio had not been healed, and the centaur’s cooperation with the Miniskirt agenda was tenuous at best.

She stormed down the moist, darkly lit hallways of Fortress Briggs with a frustrated grimace. The next week was going to be extremely unpredictable - the Miniskirts were stretched thin, and they had little support to fall back on in the face of multiple warfronts.

Strazio needed to survive. That was her primary goal; the game was irrelevant. There was only one thing on the island that could truly save him at this point, and its owner wouldn’t part with it willingly. She would need the crown of Gilgamesh.

Elise hadn’t stuck around with Teen Spirit in the aftermath of the Temple siege long enough to witness the full powers of the artefact, but the rumors were clear enough. It had some sort of healing properties, and that was all she needed to know.

The vampire turned towards the barracks to find Scathach. She would need her most loyal troops to pull off this heist. People who knew the stakes and had remained trustworthy even in the face of Gilgamesh’s betrayal.

Y’know, people who hated him.

With a swish of her navy trenchcoat, Elise rounded the corner to the personnel quarters of Fortress Briggs, and began gathering her retinue.

By the time two days had passed, they had infiltrated the town of Uxmal and began trying to radicalize the occupied village against Babylonia. It wasn’t particularly hard; most of the neutral territories hated all of the invading armies with equal rancor. The fact that Boss Mouse had sent conscripted civilians into combat against the Armada certainly didn’t help things.

Before anything could come of the sedition, however, Uxmal was unceremoniously evacuated to the checkpoint south of town. By this point, Elise and her spies had managed to fully integrate themselves as civilians - to remain behind would have been conspicuous. The trudged along with their unknowing sheep flock south to the Babylonian holdings. Elise even helped a young seamstress by the name of Takil carry and tend to her two young toddlers, carrying them for miles at a time.

Don’t get attached. None of this is real.

That’s what she kept telling herself.

A fresh blood supply was a problem, of course. She had started to ration her own feedings out of pure necessity to avoid depleting the strength of her own troops. Not all of them were willing to share, or fond, of their vampire General...but others were surprisingly generous.

Scathach, the girl with the thick brogue from Cevanti, volunteered the most frequently.

As the two women sat under a hastily constructed tarp shelter, alongside murmuring townsfolk and bawling children, Elise furtively sucked on the scout’s bleeding shoulder in the shadows. At a glance, the two were simply napping, leaning on one another for support. The sound of rain rattling on the nylon fabric overhead was soothing, and despite her barely slaked hunger, Elise was feeling drowsy.

All of that changed as a yellow-clad soldier threw open the tent flap, causing the assembled civilians and intermixed Armada agents to shield their eyes. Elise averted her gaze and drew her hood up as Scathach rolled down her shirt sleeve. It was Pater, one of Gilgamesh’s most loyal soldiers...someone who would easily recognize both of them.

But he wasn’t here to snoop.

“Citizens of Uxmal, and beloved subjects of King Gilgamesh!” the elite soldier boomed, “...It is with a heavy heart I must inform you that the squabbling, mongrel forces of the Hell Divers and Miniskirt Armada have laid waste to your village. Your homes lie in ruin...but fear not-!” he boomed, but was quickly cut off by a collective cry of outrage.

Village elders, mothers, farmers, all of them unwilling pawns of this stupid game launched to their feet in a flurry of wailing and angry questions. Elise tugged on Scathach’s arm and nodded to the back of the tent.

The two slipped outside, where another two disguised Armada spies met them.

“Colins. Laszlo. That true about Uxmal?” Elise murmured. Colins, a young man in his early twenties with a shaved head and baby blue eyes nodded grimly.

“‘Fraid so.”

Don’t get attached. None of this is real. What are Takil and her kids going to do? Is Gilgamesh gonna send the mother into combat? Elise shook her head slightly.

“Alright. Anything else?”

Colins nodded, and slipped the general a sealed missive lifted from the checkpoint’s mail room.

“Gilly is still at the Fort. Might be moving soon. Do we stay put?” Laszlo whispered. A cluster of garrison guards bustled past them, and Elise buried her face into Laszlo’s chest, pretending to sob. He tapped her on the back when they had passed. As their muddy bootsteps faded into the general rabble of the refugees, Elise growled.

“No. We need to keep track of his movements. We need to mobilize by the end of the day. Spread the word.” the vampire said softly. The other three Armada spies nodded and quickly dispersed. As Elise marched back into the fracas of panicking townsfolk, it occurred to her that she should check in with Takil and the twins.

But she didn’t.

That evening, Fort Enkidu loomed on the horizon as a jagged shadow against the rosy ocean sunset. The Miniskirt infiltrators were tired from the rapid marching, but also glad to be rid of the squalor of Uxmal’s doomed refugees. Scathach trotted up to Elise as she squinted at the flickering, candle lit windows in the distance. The vampire had to admit, the amount of stamina the rose-haired woman possessed was astounding, especially considering she was missing several ounces of blood.

“A few tweaks hither ‘n yon, but nay that we cannae work around. She still has the same floorplan as when we laid ‘er down.” the scout panted. Elise nodded softly and motioned to Colins.

“Let’s not waste time then. Tell the others to leave the heavy gear in hidden caches and take our climbing tools. I know just the spot.” Elise smiled. Soon she would have the crown in hand, and she would be one step closer to ending this stupid game.

But that’s not what happened. The next day, the Fortress was suspiciously devoid of activity. Elise, of course had taken it as an opportunity and was snooping around in Fort Enkidu’s trash. She suddenly heard a patter of bootsteps behind her, and instinctively pulled out the ten-blade she had come to refer to as her ‘battle scalpel’. She tucked it away just as quickly as Laszlo came skidding into the rubbish pit. His long black hair was disheveled.

“General! We have to go!” he urged in a loud whisper.

“Go where? What?” Elise blinked. Laszlo rushed forwards and grabbed her by the arm.

“The fuck, dude?! Let go-” she cried, but was silenced by an immense explosion that rocked the fort. She stopped resisting and sprinted out through the rear passages as the entire fortress began to shake itself apart.

Other Miniskirt spies fell in behind them as they pelted towards the external ramparts. Rubble and stone crumbled from the ceiling in great sloughs, and the hallway began to collapse as they run. Elise skidded to a stop and waved the other spies past her.

“Go. Go!” she screamed. The other few Armada infiltrators ran past as golden blurs, as the wizard vampire raised her hands and incanted a spell, inaudible over the destruction.

A shimmering disc of protective magic snapped into existence, sealing the hallway shut as a final explosion thundered against it. But it held. Elise staggered backwards as a ponderous cloud of dust began to choke the passage, and made her way outside.

“Well shit. We miss the memo today?” Elise breathed. She was bent over, with her hands on her knees. Too close. Too damn close. The thunderous destruction had silenced even the normally incessant jungle birds, leaving only the distant sound of settling rubble and ocean waves to fill the void.

“Guess so. But I did score these.” a young soldier said. Elise didn’t recognize them, but gladly took the shredded scraps of intelligence. She immediately snarled, crumpled them up, and threw them into the damp moss.

“Missed him again. Everyone take some time to catch your breath. Colins! Is Colins here?” Elise shouted. The baby-faced man staggered out from the shaken pack, covered in a layer of sandy grit.

“Present.” he sputtered.

“Scathach! C’mon girl, I know you got legs!” the vampire cried. Her voice was hoarse, but the red haired, amazonian youth came springing down the hill with a grin.

“Just glad you made it out, m'eudail! I’ve n’er seen a goth run so fast before!” she giggled, patting the vampire on the shoulder.

Elise breathed a sigh of relief, and chuckled softly...before shaking herself out of the sense of affection welling up inside of her.

Don’t get attached. None of this is real.

“Bring me a grid map. Laszlo, take a head count. He’s not going to get away.” she snarled.

And so, the hunt resumed. Gilgamesh was just half a day ahead of them, if that. It was clear that they had built a new fortress north of the temple. Based on the various supply notes and letters of communication they had pilfered, they were able to pinpoint its location quite nicely. Elise and her infiltrators had the scent now, and the ensuing day’s march carried a sort of predatory thrill as they closed in on the new headquarters.

By the second day, they had located the structure. The conglomeration of spies and assassins were hunkered down on a rocky hill just east of the estimated location. Although, it wasn’t much of an estimate anymore. Various scouts and spies munched on stolen Babylonian rations as Elise and her trusted advisors planned their next move.

“That’s his play.” Scathach whispered as they hunched down behind a fallen log. They had the grid map spread out in front of them, and were comparing against the river that snaked along the lush forest below their current outcrop. The pinnacles of a Babylonian fortress were just visible over the tree line.

“Their artillery fire catches anyone tryin’ tae go straight south. Clowns. Divers. Miniskirts. They want us to assume the other Fort is still standin’.” she concluded. Elise nodded softly. She didn’t really care. The point of the entire competition was long behind her - she just hoped that Strazio hadn’t been further assassinated at this point.

“Well, spread the word. Tomorrow we move in.” Elise growled. She leered at the distant towers, and spat a wad into the dirt. For someone so glorious and pompous as Gilgamesh, the King had been surprisingly squirrely.

“...knew I shoulda put an Ephemeris on him when I had the chance...”

There was little else to be discussed, aside from how to get into the place. This new fortress, whatever it was called, was completely different from the location Elise had helped plan and design. Luckily, some things remained consistent across ancient Sumerian fortification design. Chiefly, the need for a steady supply of slaves.

The jungles of the island’s midlands were awash with packs of destitute, displaced villagers seeking for a safe haven from the marauding armies invited here by Syntech. The prospects of living a life of servitude in the palace of the King was preferable to being impaled by clowns, or used as human shields. The forces under Elise’s command, already having experience posing as asteroid natives, trickled into the fort over the course of a few days, along with waves of both volunteered and ‘acquired’ menial laborers.

Takil and her twins were not among them. Elise had done her best to forget about the woman and her twins, but the thought of their plight gripped her. What mattered was to end this competition as quickly as possible.

After fully integrating into the new fortification, it became apparent that there was something off about the place. Scathach, Colins and Laszlo regularly came to her with reports from all corners of Gilgamesh’s new palace, indicating that they felt they were being watched. Rumors of flamethrowers on the upper floors, of chills up and down the spine when spies moved alone through the halls. Something was wrong here, but what mattered was that Gilgamesh was known to be parading himself around in the upper reaches of the citadel’s towers.

So close...but just out of reach.

Naturally, the vampiric wizard set to work right away with trying to discern this sense of unease and paranoia. Perhaps some sort of scrying spell? Patrols of invisible spirits of some kind? The Urban Lich and Izaneus were both well-versed in the kinds of rituals that could lend arcane security to the place.

On the third night of their infiltration, Laszlo moved in next to Elise as she worked away scrubbing the King’s ornate, golden tableware in the dungeons of the hidden bulwark. The washing room was fairly clean, due to the fresh construction of the fortification, but dimly lit and dismal nonetheless. Furtive, flickering oil lit illuminated the vampire as she worked; the spitting image of some chiaroscuro serving maid wilting away in archaic servitude.

“More artillery fire today. Rumor is that the fortress is gunning on Azula and a massive army.” he muttered.

Elise scoffed.

“Tch. Guess Princess finally made her move. Hopefully she followed the plan.” the vampire said with a dour shake of her head. Laszlo sighed conspicuously.

“Don’t...think so. That outpost where they were keeping the Uxmal runners? Flattened. They blew themselves up tryna fight the Burning Legion.” Laszlo breathed.

Elise froze in her scrubbing for a moment. She looked down at the gently fizzing soap fuzz on her pallid hands. The murky water offered a dim reflection of her own, distorted red eyes. A vision flashed through her mind of Takil holding Kimil and Otoztla close as fire rained down around them. An anguished, imagined scream squirmed through her heart like a hot needle.

Don’t get attached. None of this is real.

…

Don’t get attached. None of this is real, dammit!

“Dammit.” Elise said through grit teeth. “L...losses?”

“Big. The gunners sounded like they were having a field day.” her fellow spy grumbled.

Now Elise’s thoughts turned to Strazio. Surely Azula had taken the albino magus along with her. He was on his last legs...one wrong mortar shot and he would be obliterated. Despite not needing the oxygen, the vampire began to heave in deep, shuddering breaths. She couldn’t afford to lose Strazio. What he had inside of him was more precious than the most hidden firmaments of arcana. He had answers that had plagued her since she had been old enough to ask the question of her origins.

“So much for a Temple sneak attack...Miniskirt Armada lookin’ more like a Miniskirt parade these days…” Laszlo sneered. Elise nodded for a moment, before slamming down her scrub brush. The clatter and splash drew the attention of the single guard in the room, who cleared his throat with all the menace a Babylonian shlub could muster.

“Back to work, refugee. Your stay under the King’s grace isn’t-” he was cut off as Elise crossed the room like a shadow and put the piggish man in an iron chokehold. He gagged softly as they went to the ground, before finally passing out with a sucking gasp. She checked his pulse; still alive.

Laszlo stood frozen by the wash basin with round eyes.

“Fucking...low profile?!” he snapped. Elise held up an angry finger, silencing her comrade.

“Get the word around to the others to uncache the explosives and move into position. We’re making our move tonight.”

“Tonight? But we still don’t-” Laszlo protested, but Elise motioned for him to zip it.

“No more bullshit. This whole thing has gone too far. Plant. Bombs.” the vampire snapped with a dangerous tilt of the chin. With that, she swept out of the room and stormed up into the castle proper. Other guards tried to stop her of course, but when she pulled her hood down they balked.

“Y-you! Lieuten...I mean...uh! Alarm! Infiltrators! Spies!” the Babylonian soldier cried. Elise rolled her eyes and shouted over the outcry.

“Shut up, Oliver. I’m here to talk. Wake up Gilgamesh and tell him Elise wants to talk.”

There was, of course, much pomp and grandstanding to be had as Elise was put in chains and restraints before being show boated into Gilgamesh’s audience chamber like a prisoner about to beg for her life. The wide, brown-marble hallway was dressed in ferns and a chromatic panoply of colorful silks. Braziers of scented oil along the walls filled the dark, night air with a fragrant haze. In the grand scheme of things, Elise supposed that she was technically doing this, but despite his arrogance, Gilgamesh was still shrewd.

The gilded king sat looking simultaneously smug and enraged as she clattered her way before him across a red carpet. The King languished on a heavily cushioned throne, dressed in his white cotton evening clothes. It was a show of fearlessness - no need to wear armor in front of a shackled prisoner.

His face split into a wicked sneer as she was shoved to her knees in front of him.

“Elise…” he drawled softly. “...the rags of a peasant suit you. I was wondering when you and your verminous cronies would come out of hiding.”

The vampire sighed loudly, which earned her a drubbing across the cheek from Pater, who was standing guard over her.

“Show some respect to the King!” he barked. Gilgamesh held up a hand to stay further wrath from the hulking elite.

“Come now, Pater. Let the bloodsucker dig her own grave. Speak your mind, parasite.” the King hummed.

“Well, first and foremost, I apologize.” Elise said. Gilgamesh’s eyebrows flickered upwards in genuine surprise for a moment.

“You do know what you’re doing, after all. I’m sorry I doubted your tactics. You got mad chops.” Elise nodded. Gilgamesh seemed genuinely unsure of how to respond, but only for a fraction of a second.

“This is true, although I should be thankful that Azula was so willing to march your forces straight into our zone of control. You have not come to defect, so why the pretense? You have little to bargain with, and I don’t need your help.” Gilgamesh said cooly. Elise shook her head and chuckled slightly.

“Don’t you? Come on, King; you were barely able to garrison this fort, and you sent just as many along with Mustang to steal Pandaemonium. That’s why you had to blow up Enkidu. You’re stretched pretty thin, be real.” Elise chuckled.

Gilgamesh remained silent, and considered her words.

“Think as you’d like.” he finally retorted, nonchalantly.

“Right, so how long do you figure until the Hell Divers turn on you like they did us? Probably after the clown gets squashed, word?” Elise hummed.

“Your point?” the king snapped back. He was starting to put some bite into his words now. Elise maintained a blithe, tranquil smile.

“The Miniskirts are falling apart, you know that. But Azula is ready to throw every last body we have at the temple. Bad action, dude. You’ll probably win, both sides take losses...it’s dumb. I’m over it with this last stand, suicide run bullshit. Our forces barely care about the Miniskirt flag anymore, and the guns here made things even worse.” Elise said, she looked up at Gilgamesh, and met his familiar red smolder with her own once again.

“I’ll go talk to ‘em. Not sure about Azula and John, but...most of them will probably be chill about it.” Elise shrugged. Gilgamesh rolled his eyes.

“I do not need them to be ‘chill’ about it, Elise. I need their loyalty and their zeal.” Gilgamesh squinted. Elise shrugged again.

“That’s your job, not mine. All I can promise is to start a conversation.” she said. There was a note of finality in her voice that did not invite further argument. The King decided to press elsewhere.

“Your terms? It is getting late, and I wish to hurry along your execution once your due audience is finished.” he sighed.

“Well, you know me and my crew are here. Maybe you even know bombs are being set as we speak. Might get most of them...but all of them? Then what? We get into a big old fight and mess this place up? More stupid shit. How many people can you afford to lose right now?” the wizard responded. A small murmur went up in the courtroom, causing various servants to cast nervous glances among themselves. A few guards took up calls to sweep the fortress...some of whom were her own embedded spies. She grinned, in direct opposition to Gilgamesh’s scowl.

“This is your bargaining chip? A threat of death and destruction? Against me?!” Gilgamesh said, sitting up straight.

“No, that just keeps us talking. After all, you have a reputation for shooting the messenger.” Elise chuckled. Gilgamesh scowled more intensely, if such a thing was possible, but remained silent.

“What I really want is the lives of three Miniskirt lieutenants. Strazio Rockwell, Gamzee Makara, and Nico Cinder. Strazio gets a turn on your fancy, shiny hat too. He’s a bit beat up and I need him alive.” Elise said, keeping an unblinking stare locked onto the King. Gilgamesh adjusted himself on his throne, and rubbed his fingers together pensively.

“...you’re playing a dangerous hand, mongrel. But I can see that you aren’t bluffing, at least.” the King said in a flat, humorless tone. He considered the situation for a long moment.

“...and after you have...secured this hypothetical surrender? Surely you don’t expect me to trust you in my army. I have standards for those who serve me.” Gilgamesh scoffed.

“Holy shit dude…” Elise sucked in a sharp breath. The fucking attitude with this guy. Had she not spied and infiltrated her way through his entire territory for the past week and a half? The vampire released the breath slowly and quelled her rancor.

“I need Strazio alive, and this competition is over as soon as possible. I’m not even playing the same game as the rest of you at this point.”

The two former allies regarded each other with gently simmering resentment for a moment, but the conversation was laid bare.

“...but you do me this solid, and I’d owe you a few favors. Yeah?” Elise concluded with a sly smile. Gilgamesh did not return the smile, but inclined his chin ever so slightly. His eyes flicked over to the side of the room, where a sudden commotion had broken out.

Scathach had thrown off her disguise and had tried to dash onto the red carpet. Her eyes were wild with anger, and two of Gilgamesh’s praetorian guards were holding her back.

“Filthy...dirty...vampire traitor! I let you feed from me! You promised were gonnae humiliate this fuckin’ twat ‘n now we’re…” Scathach shrieked as she twisted in her chains. Elise swallowed a hard lump in her throat, and glanced at the King. She could feel the cold grip of his venom as he smiled wickedly and gestured towards the thrashing Armada loyalist.

“Well, Elise? Go on. Get her to...chill.” Gilgamesh chuckled. Elise stood up and took a measured pace towards the wild-eyed girl.

“A month ago you hated Gilgamesh because he was blindly throwing lives away! Now the Miniskirts are doing the same! I can’t...I can’t do this anymore Scathach!” Elise pleaded.

“Tha’s because yer a pompous twat civilian playin’ at bein’ a soldier!” Scathach seethed back. Angry spittle flew from her bared teeth as she reeled against the restraints.

“For some of us, this is our job! This is our life! I pledged my life-”

“-to fight the Unmade on Cevanti you idiot! I fucking hate humans!” Elise screamed back. She got closer to Scathach who was trying to bite the shoulder pads of the royal guards. Vampires couldn’t cry...their bodies were dry and lifeless aside from the black ichor of their veins. But Elise could feel the burning weight behind her eyes nonetheless.

“Scathach please. Please. We’re getting nowhere here. Not with this mindset.” she continued. Scathach refused to meet Elise’s eyes, but ceased her frantic struggles.

“We already lost. We don’t need to die too. Not like this...not for something meaningless. It’s just anger. Let it go.” Elise pressed. The gaelic amazon refused to meet Elise’s gaze, and spit on the ground in front of her. She barked a final, angry invective as she was pulled out of the chamber

“Aye...no sense dyin’ for honorless scum. Not you. Not him.” she hissed, nodding at Gilgamesh on his throne. The vampire’s face screwed and scrunched itself in a perpetual attempt to stave off dry sobs.

Don’t get attached. None of this is real.

The king, however, was beaming, and began to clap slowly. Elise kept her back to him.

“It’s a start, my scheming little parasite. Round up the rest of your spies. We’ll keep them...safe...until the Armada fucks off or stands down. You should be quick though...my last field reports indicated they were beginning the battle.” Gilgamesh finished with relish. Elise finally wheeled around and gave him a flat look of paux faced disdain.

“Gonna need...hands. Y’know?”

 

[Karl Jak]

With the blue soldiers being shuffled into their different holding areas, Gilgamesh turned and looked at Elise. "We'll talk in a moment."

As the soldiers filtered passed, the king gestured to one of his aides-de-camp. "Bring my Connor once I'm done with the spy."

The Miniskirt Armada has surrendered to Babylonia.

All soldiers and officers (PC and NPC: Pepsiman, Sgt. Swift, Beatrix III, Mirage, Ki, Mecha-Wraith) will be stripped of their equipment (whether it's what they brought with them or stuff they got during the games) and put into a holding area, pending future action by Gilgamesh.

John Connor will get the Roy Mustang treatment and be free to roam before a meeting with Gilgamesh to 'go over business'

 

[Jak]

Whatever was left of Connor’s pride as he watched several of his loyal soldiers all put away because he didn’t step up for them was almost shredded. As they were led into what the golden soldiers called “Fortress Ea”, John looked up. The military fortress looked to be made of sand and harder minerals but sometimes appearances fooled even the sharpest of eyes.

He forced himself to look over at a man who had been proud to live and die for the hardened soldier and thought he was going to do something more.

The man said nothing except grunting and turning away.

John wasn’t too focused on the fact this new fortress was a lot more fancy than he was ever used to in a lifetime’s worth but rather the design of the castle.

He held his bandages carefully underneath his old uniform.

He heard stories about Gilgamesh, King of Heroes and all that but not at home. He’d never had time to read about history.

John stood against the wall placing his back against the wall, crossing his arms watching the guards eye him from time to time, once in a while hearing whispers.

 

[Karl Jak]

John Connor had just barely had time to settle into the elaborate ‘suite’ of rooms when a loud knock was followed by the two armored guards stepping aside from the heavy wooden doors.

In strode Gilgamesh, in all his sneering, gilded glory—his eyes immediately finding Connor, who rose from his chair as the king strode across the room. With a grin, the monarch extended a gauntleted palm to the resistance fighter. “Good evening, John Connor. I’m Gilgamesh, and I hope you’ve been enjoying my fortress. This one is a bit more utilitarian than the last, unfortunately.”

John Connor shook the hand extended toward him and merely gave a polite nod of his head. The two soldiers had barely had anything close to a genuine conversation prior to this point, and the drama between Gilgamesh and Roy had unfolded while Connor was miles away tending to other situations.

“Truth be told,” Gilgamesh replied as he walked over and leaned against a desk. “I had hoped for Azula, if only because I wanted to gloat.” The man snickered. “Do you know how many times I offered her a chance to work with me? Can you believe she would be so arrogant as to rebuke my every effort at diplomacy? It is no wonder that her own lieutenants wanted her ousted. She sounds like every schoolteacher’s worst nightmare.”

“She had a very strong personality, but she was still a competent leader,” John Connor rebuked in a soft, nonthreatening tone.

Gilgamesh stared silently at Connor for a few tense moments before flashing the man a toothy smirk. “I like you, Connor. You’re also a soldier, right?” The man nodded. “You fought…” Gilgamesh paused to mull the swirl of thoughts in his brain before snapping his fingers. “Robots, was it?”

“Skynet.”

“Skynet, yes,” the king nodded. “You’re not mentioned by name, Connor, but your robot boogeyman was … you know a Marcus? His named popped up in the Syntech archives.”

“I—”

Gilgamesh interrupted. “Excuse me, this isn’t the time to wax about Karl’s archives. I’m here to make you a deal, Connor.”

“A deal I can’t refuse?” Connor asked bluntly, eliciting another shark-like smile from his ‘host’.

“You could think of it that way, I suppose,” Gilgamesh replied. “I want your loyalty, Connor. Most of those blue soldiers we have locked downstairs will join me. Maybe not all of them, but after all this time spent languishing in the jungles and dealing with the indoctrination of a tyrant, they will come around to the notion that I was the rightful Commander. Roy Mustang did. Azula ran, rather than have this conversation with me.”

“What would you want of me?”

“What we all want – the endgame, John. We’ll crush the clown, just like ‘Papa Mustang’ wanted all along.”

“And if I turned down this offer?”

Gilgamesh grinned. “Then instead of leading the soldiers, I can put you at the front lines and make you fight the monsters. Either way, no one is going to shirk their responsibilities now, John Connor. You came here to fight the unmade? Or did you come here to rot in a cell because you were misled by a lunatic?”

The king stood up. “You can either be my general and lead your soldiers to victory by my side, or you can be cannon fodder for fortress guns, John. It’s nothing personal.” Gilgamesh made his way to the guarded doors and paused once they were open. Without turning back around, he stated the obvious. “This offer expires soon. We are marching to the heart of this island corruption before the end of this day.”

 

[Jak]

John eyed the two guards in front of the door debating his moves and his next options before the golden doors opened and let the golden armor monarch, King Gilgamesh inside.

Before he even mentioned anything, however, The king knew a lot more about him than he previously assumed due to the little thing called the Syntech archives. It was good to have knowledge about the person you’d be potentially working with including potential ticks and itches in case one needed to have a “backup” plan of attack.

John raised an eyebrow at the King’s mention of Marcus’s name and kept his mouth shut

“I…” was all he could let out before the imposing monarch changed subjects.

John turned for a second and frowned “What of the soldiers downstairs? Will they still accept me as a General for another side?”

Gilgamesh looked up and raised an eyebrow “What do you mean, Connor?”

Those are real folks out there, willing to die for me, for you, for Roy…

John sighed, and placed a hand out, his face cold and serious once again.

“Based on the choices you gave me, I rather fight the unmade rather than sit in a cell. Nobody came here to sit in a cell.

“And based on this competition, give the folks that came here and back home a fighting chance to take out more threats than just Skynet itself…”

John squeezed his fist for a second and bit his tongue.

“I’ll join your side as your General, your majesty.” as he willingly shook the King’s hand as to shake on the deal.

“Now excuse me, I have to tend to my injury.”

 

[Mirage]

“This has got to be the lamest place in the whole comet.” Mirage hung his head between the bars of his cell, pouting at the bleakness of the whole situation.

“Pilot, my… systems indicate that the enemy leader is a list of very profane titles.” The downsized titan sat with its cuffed hands behind its back, unable to try and break free. They had only been in here for a couple days, and it seemed like they were already forgotten. The stale food and room temperature water continued to come, but the voices of nearby soldiers dwindled as the armies began to march north for the Unmade. The duo and their titan couldn’t help but feel slighted by it all.

“I mean, c’mon. This guy really had to go kill all your scouts and make the Helldivers mad at my guys, then once we try to patch things up, he goes ahead and treats you like trash. Then when Roy came along to straighten things out, he just stole everyone’s energy and ran away!” The trickster waved his arms as he pulled back into his cell, yelling out into the barred window. “And of course, Atlantis bart-bret-turned on our guys in Uxmal, which meant the Helldivers were still not wanting a truce, so we couldn’t chase the guys at the tower! The same guys we were going to fight at the temple before we realized that we didn’t even have the people for it! And to top it all off, now that we don’t have an army anymore, that cocky golden bastard wants to be friends with the Helldivers now. Is this one of those jokes that’s not even funny?”

The legend sighed before leaning against the wall and sliding down, his titan’s head tilting to try to keep track of him.

“At least we managed to, well, do what we can. How are you doing, Coyote? And, y’know.”

“I am fine, but disarmed, pilot. My internal systems indicate that we may have to just wait for an opportunity to gain the upper hand again. We have to wait for the right path.”

Wraith.

It was tough trying to disguise her. It was a last minute decision when it became clear that surrender was the only way they were going to survive the temple. The lied to the Boss Mouse, saying that Wraith could not avoid the fire from the fortress, and died in the attacks. After they were forced to join or surrender, everyone who became a prisoner had been stripped of their gear. Mirage was forced to find ways to sneak half his food and water to his hidden partner. They were starting to complain about the bits of food that ended up in the hall.

Even with as much trouble as they had been through, they were patient. If anything, that was the only thing they had at this point. Well, that and what Wraith managed to sneak in with the titan. Only her Kraber and a Wingman, each with a clip of ammo. There wasn’t much they could do with the army on top of the fortress, so they had continued to wait as light came and went, leaving behind a stronger silence with each passing.

Soon, it would be time.

 

[Wraith]

The situation had gone from promising, to falling apart, to just straight fucked. Azula had walked them through enemy artillery and by the time they had reached the temple. Elise had shown up and forced a ceasefire. Azula was gone and now they were imprisoned in some fortress. I guess the deal the young vampire had struck with the golden boy had not included Mirage and his titan. Coyote’s sensors had picked up fewer and fewer people. After however long it had been Wraith pulled on the hatch lever and unfused with her titan shell. It was late in the night as Wraith stood against the wall with Coyote. The halls were lit by sporadic torches. Taking her wingman from a compartment on the titan she sheathed it on her hip before removing her Kraber from a similar compartment. Leaning the rifle against the wall she looked around for Mirage.

“Elliot.” She whispered in a low voice.

“Wake up!”

“Renee?” Mirage whispered sleepily.

“Be quiet. We’re getting out of here.” She explained, handing him the Wingman.

“I have 12 rounds for this. Use them sparingly.” Wraith handed him the spare rounds that were held together by a piece of plastic that allowed for ease of reloading the revolver.

Taking the Kraber she ejected the magazine and counted the rounds.

Five.

Using the butt of the weapon she broke off the two deadbolts keeping the cuffs on Coyote’s wrists. The iron shackles dropped to the ground.

“At the first sign of trouble, pull me back in Coyote.”

The titan gave a thumbs-up as Wraith bust the lock to their cell with the butt of the rifle.

They were, for the moment, free from captivity.

 

[Gildarts]

Ki focused all his concentration to merely close his eyes. With it, the near-master tuned out the entire world, by tuning deeply into it.

With every breath he took, silence became sound. Vibrations hummed around the meditating warrior and his ears then became numb to all frequencies and their echoes. Time spurred into new time, falling into the time that crept away from him within the cold, dull cell.

Dust collected on the fine hairs of his whiskers, rustling slowly only for each inhale of his breaths and each raspy exhale of steam in the shiver of the night.

Meals were dropped off by the guards, one by one the rattle and clank of the dish grinded against the stone encasing him. He chose to see his decision as a cocoon. Strengthening him. Soon he would emerge when the time was right, ready to fight again.

Until his nose carried a familiar scent, wafting around it he caught the lingering taste of pain. Keenly, the cat felt his ears twitch and the zen cat allowed his eyes to slowly open. Yellow slits fell on the familiar presence that had entered the hallway.

The perched cat appeared slow and wise as John approached from the other side of the bars.

The cat’s fur appeared covered in filth, an aged shade of gray. With a quick glance, the commander had gathered from the creature’s gaunt cheeks and untouched plates of food on the ground that the ally he had once fought with had yet to eat in some amount of days.

Before John could speak a hello, Ki’s voice was slow but somehow eager.

“It’s over, isn’t it?”

The soldier and leader, covered in more freshly wet bandages lumbered a little closer to the bars. The off balanced man offered a half-grin and a nod. The gentle smile warmed Ki, who remained sitting however offered reverence to the man he gazed up to.

“Funny, how the two soldiers just wanted peace in the end.” Ki mused to himself, his eyes and ears fully aimed at John and his fresh blood. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” His comrade spoke, taking a wobbling breath.

“Good. Because of your courage, no more good men have to die today. No matter the outcome of the conquest.” Ki felt his resolve dampen as the scent continued to taint the cat’s nostrils. True remorse battered the cat’s voice, “I’m sorry I did not stand by your side. However, my ideals… Lead me along a different path. One where I cannot simply follow the loyalty of friendships. But that of something different. That of… Well, I am just glad you didn’t pay the ultimate price, for it would’ve been a price I too would’ve paid.”

John didn’t visit Ki without expecting riddles from the sentimental feline. John seemed to be in higher hopes, “I wouldn’t have enjoyed that fate much either.”

“Of course not.” Ki nodded and a young woman scampered down the hall.

“Oh, Sir!” She saluted John immediately, having turned the corner and being surprised that the wordless cat had a visitor.

“At ease, the war is over.” John felt a rush of realization as the words left his lips.

“Uh, yes sir. Oh, would you look at that! He’s awake!” The young woman looked over to the cat. She had the itch to scratch the now awoken furball. She had realized when the stoic creature had chosen not to eat he was unlike any of the actual cats she had encountered in her lifetime. Still… “This entire time, sir, he hasn’t eaten at all.”

“My body may not have eaten, but my mind is full.” He responded to the girl pleasantly.

“Ohhhh. You’re one of those huh?” She nodded sarcastically and then whispered, “Do you think you could get him to eat something? I'd hate to see him sent out tomorrow and die of fatigue on the battlefield.”

“I am aware of the festivities going on tomorrow.” Ki added reassuringly, his hyper senses picking up her whisper with ease. “As for the food, I will gladly partake. There is much to celebrate.”

“Oh.” She blinked in surprise. “Well good. It does you no good to go around not eating. If I miss one meal, my stomach starts to really ache.”

“Perhaps you’d like to all share a meal together, then?” Ki offered peace and a place to put down their titles and become their fullest selves.

“A prisoner, a hero, and your prison guard?” The woman echoed befuddled yet comprehendingly inquiring. “You’re a monk type aren’t you?”

“Join me?” He answered in the form of a question, adding a curious grin beneath his whiskers. “And if you would like as well?”

Ki’s eyes fell on John. The woman actually seemed excited, she got to sit with one of their army’s heroes. It would be an exhilarating experience. She departed with the intention of grabbing two more meals for them.

Ki captured the moment to enjoy the singular company of his friend. Inquiring, his voice wistful. “Will you be joining tomorrow?”

“No. I have won my battle, for now.” John winced as he tenderly gestured to some of his freshest wounds.

Ki’s eyes sparked apologetically. Had the samurai been there, things may have just been different, if only for his friend. He cared not which dictator had won their petty squabbles with thousands of men. Only with the victory, lives had been spared. John’s life.

“Tomorrow my spirit will take my form.” Ki spoke with his meaning unexplained, his eyes deeply submerged in reflection. “In this experience, I have found here something I never expected to find. For that I thank you.”

A selfless robot, a human friend, and a feeling of being a miniscule piece within the grandeur of history being made.

 

[Jak]

The former Commander of the miniskirts looked up at the feline samurai who puzzled him with another quizzical statement. But John seemed to understand now. It meant Ki was leaving for the Gauntlet and might not make it back.

John sat down on a chair next to the bars surrounding Ki’s prison cell and sighed. It wasn’t much but it was the best he could do to celebrate with his friend hopefully one more time and hopefully not the last time. The prison guard returned with three meals. One for the Commander, one for her and one for Ki.

The young woman sat down on a chair as well as she sat next to John and moved Ki’s meal to his cell “Come join us, at least for a bit, close as you can.”

The feline, who looked like he aged just a bit without eating, smiled warmly at his friend and lightly at the guard moving closer.

Looking surprisingly hungry, the feline took some of the food happily as he looked up, smiling at his two guests.

The first one to break the silence was the young female prison guard who seemed happy to see Commander John sitting near her and a question suddenly popped up.

“So… sir, what was… your old life like?”

John looked up, a more sad but light smile crossed his face.

“What do you mean? Before the crossroads?”

The woman stroked her hair, a bit nervously. “Yeah… is it bad?”

John stroked the “Y” scar on his face. “It’s .. where I got my “Y’ shaped scar, from a terminator attack.”

“I lead the Human Resistance against a rogue Military computer named Skynet. They sent terminators to try and kill everyone I know back home. It’s a rough job.”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “So you are familiar with the concept of leadership, sir?”

The commander nodded “Yes, I was General back in my old world. We were this close to defeating Skynet for good.”

Ki looked up “I’m glad you were able to see another day, Connor. We worried you wouldn’t come back after all..”

The cat looked sad “I’m sorry you have to say your goodbyes, Connor. I’m sure you have your friends and allies to see in the preshow.”

John was silent for a second and nodded, shaking the cat’s hand and the young female’s hand as she gushed over having a hero shake her hand.

John smiled lightly and nodded, “Ki, I will never forget you, thank you for keeping me going even when the said Atlantis betrayal happened.’

Ki frowned and said “Connor, I want you to have this...May it grant you many days as much as it did me.”

The commander looked up “Ki...are you sure?”

Ki nodded and said “I am sure, Connor.”

As Connor looked over the sword Ki gave him, he smiled “I’ll take it to remember you by.”

Here’s some parting words from me, you two.

“There’s no fate in what we make for ourselves.’

He turned and gave two red bands to ki and the prison guard

“You two are my first Resistance members here..”