This Place is a Warning

[Dr. McNinja]

This is not a place of honor.

Dr. Patrick McNinja stirred awake, his muscles too stiff to rise from his prone position. He patted his chest. There was nothing around him except grey dirt. He squinted suspiciously at the ceiling.

No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here.

“Who’s that talking?” Patrick groaned as he rolled over slightly. The dirt under him crinkled slightly under the change in pressure.

Status check. His ninja mask was still on, thank goodness. What was the last thing he remembered? It was Dante’s Abyss. There was a… suicide mission. That kid with the pompadour talked him into joining, bless his soul.

What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us.

Ugh, right. The Unmaking. That mysterious voice was right on the money. This place WAS dangerous and repulsive. Patrick meditated again on what that mysterious voice could be, along with this entirely monochrome setting. Perhaps backtracking his steps-

This message is a warning about danger.

There was a burst of dirt and concrete behind Doc. The rubble scattered around him haplessly, yet harmlessly. Patrick turned around slowly and dramatically. He squinted.

The center of danger is here, of a particular size and shape, and below us.

And there he was. Darkseid. He looked just like that mural Patrick had seen in that creepy Nausicaa basement. Much bigger, of course. At that height, he must’ve stood at around 50 feet tall. Around him, like a swarm of bugs, crawled demons and monsters of a much more reasonable size. Hanging onto Darkseid’s nose was…

“SAREN, you PUNK BITCH” Patrick shouted, “Why are you still alive? I lightsabered your ass-”

The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.

Wait.

Patrick remembered now.

He lost that fight. That insane clown shot him through the chest.

The danger is to the body, and it can kill.

Patrick looked down, noticing only now the gaping hole through his torso.

This place is best shunned and left uninhabited.

Patrick collapsed onto his knees. He could start seeing parts of his body that were intimately familiar to him. But he had only seen them in books and in other patients - and for some reason, his own ribcage looked so small.

Patrick collapsed onto the ground, his eyelids heavy with fatigue and shock.

No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here.

Patrick twitched as he heard that mysterious voice again.

The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.

The danger was still present. There was a horrifying death god out there, hoping to kill existence itself. Patrick could do nothing.

He could take out that Saren punk, though.

The danger is to the body, and it can kill.

Dr. McNinja pushed himself off the ground, staring at his bullet wounds.

“These little things?” Doc said with a smirk, “They’re all… just…”

***

Daisy and Peter sat in the basement of Doc’s clinic, staring at the high-tech coffin full of mysterious blue fluid on the floor. In it was a naked body with a ninja mask around the head. Peter watched the process with fascination.

“The CKTM machine,” Peter said, “Clone Knowledge Transfer Machine.”

“The M stands for machine?”

“Yeah.”

“So then…” Daisy smirked, “It’d just be the CKT machine.”

Peter stuck out his tongue. “Anyway, it’s just going to transfer Doc’s memories into this new body. It was a little thing he prepared before he set off for Dante’s Abyss-”

The container suddenly hissed, and the lid snapped off. Peter instinctively stepped in front of Daisy, ready to absorb any shrapnel that might fly off from the violent awakening.

“FLESH WOOUUUUNDS” Doc screamed, his naked body glistening with medical fluid.

Peter rushed over to the physician, flashing a light into Doc’s eyes.

“Doc, can you hear me?” Peter asked, “You’re in your clinic, you’re safe-”

Dr. McNinja suddenly grabbed Peter’s shirt collar and pulled him in uncomfortably close. His eyes were intense and wide.

“I want pizzaaaaa.”

Doc tumbled out of the coffin, and sprinted off, fluid dripping off his naked body in a trail. Peter and Daisy watched McNinja practically vanish, leaving only wet footsteps and excited giggling. Daisy looked at Peter.

“Is that okay?” she asked worriedly.

Peter grinned warmly. “Yeah, he’s back.”

Daisy squinted at Peter. “Don’t you guys have patients out there?”

Peter shrugged. “Yep.”

“And they’re gonna see Doc running naked and dripping wet through the lobby?”

“I should go get him.”

“Yeah.”

Daisy chuckled as Peter sprinted inhumanly fast towards the naked and giggling doctor.

Revived; Coin deducted from DA winnings

 

[Dr. McNinja]

A newly clothed Dr. McNinja moaned in delight as he slipped another bite of pizza in through the mask. Daisy stared at him in awe.

“So you don’t even take it off to eat?”

“Once I take off the mask, I have to assume a completely new identity. I’m no longer a McNinja,” Doc responded, “It’s a tradition, and it’d be dumb to ruin it just to eat pizza. So we learned some ninja tricks!”

Doc took another bite of his pizza, leaning back in his chair. Peter watched him with interest.

“So? You feeling okay?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, pretty good. That device straight up works.” Doc punched his chest twice to make sure everything was still working. Yup, all the organs were in there and working as intended. “It’s a good thing we upgraded the clone technology. One of the early Benjamin Franklin clones bit off his own jaw while trying to eat a sandwich.”

Daisy turned to Peter, hoping for an explanation. The nurse shrugged.

“He’ll just say things like that sometimes.”

“Right!” Doc said, ignoring the comment, “So I have some patients or what?”

“You were right,” Peter said, pulling out his phone calendar, “Your little stunt in the Abyss did really well for our publicity. I think a lot of them just want your signature, but your medic stuff was really popular.”

Daisy nodded. “They even played your ad right after you mercy-shot Jester.”

Doc scowled. “I don’t see how that possibly helps our-”

Daisy and Peter shook their heads.

“No, like,” Daisy said, “That was super popular.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Doc’s eyes closed for a moment as he remembered Jester. Such a sweet young woman, dying for no other reason than because that was how a twisted god got his kicks. He remembered her little blue face, and how she was lucid in her last moments.

“Doc?”

Dr. McNinja opened his eyes, looking curiously at Peter.

“Whazzup?”

“You kinda zoned out there.”

“Yeah, DA sucked,” Doc sighed, “So much walking with my burnt fucking arms.”

Peter and Daisy glanced at each other, then turned back to Doc.

“You know, chances are a lot of them had ways of coming back to life,” Daisy mumbled, “I mean, emergency revival items are a dime a dozen these days, even with the Unmaking.”

“What a scummy thing to do, by the way,” Peter scoffed, “Suddenly dropping you guys in Markov.”

“It’s his style,” Doc sighed, “Ugh, I never wanna go back to Markov. I know the TV showed me whining a lot, but that place really sucked. I’d HATE to find out I suddenly have to go back.”

There was a light silence as Peter and Daisy watched Doc. McNinja himself sighed, then stretched.

“Anyway, when’s my first patient?”

***

“But I have diabeeeeetus.”

Dr. McNinja pinched his brow as he leaned back on his desk.

“Mr. Phillips, I’m going to call someone from Social Services. Would that be okay with you?”

“I have diabeeeeeetus.”

“I can have someone come pick you up, take you somewhere nice-”

“Diabeets.”

“No, you don’t have diabeets- DIABETES. You don’t have diabetes.” Dr. McNinja sighed. “Wait right here, Mr. Phillips, I’m going to call someone more qualified for this.”

Doc turned around and reached for his phone. After pressing in some keys, the physician waited for the dial to ring.

“Hey, it’s McNinja. He’s here. Yep, again. No, I’m telling you, he’s actually-”

Doc turned around to meet Mr. Phillips’ gaze. He was shocked, though not surprised, to find that Mr. Phillips had once again vanished completely.

“...yeah, he disappeared again. No, he’s not an imaginary fr- Yes, I understand this is a serious institu- …hey, I run a legitimate clinic here! …yes, I did join DA this year.”

Doc scowled, gripping the receiver of his phone tightly.

“Because I’m not just any doctor! I’m also a ninja! Yes, there is an inherent discrepancy between my two occupations”

Doc screamed into his phone, “NO, YOU’RE UNHINGED!” then slammed the receiver onto the phone. He hadn’t even noticed he was out of breath.

“PETER!” Doc howled as he marched out the door of his office, “WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT LETTING MR. PHILLIPS LEAVE WHILE I’M ON THE PHONE?”

In the corner of his office, the safe that once held the Jar of Dirt creaked as its door lay ajar. Doc would note this with particular frustration later.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Dr. McNinja spent the next few days enjoying his newfound fame from Dante’s Abyss. After committing enough interviews to last him a lifetime of vanity, most of the people who recognized him were the patients. Several of them had actually specifically asked for appointments with him because of his performance in the Abyss. This concerned Peter to great ends, but Doc sure didn’t mind.

Yelena Weretov was one such patient. Yelena had a fractured ankle, which concerned Doc greatly. She was also literally petrified from the waist down.

“It’s a miracle that this happened,“ Dr. McNinja said, “You said you were hiking along the Gorgon Mountains?”

“Yep.”

“You know why they call them the Gorgon Mountains, right?”

“Well, I thought I was safe, you know.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m a werewolf.”

Doc gave Yelena an incredibly stern look.

“I don’t see lycanthropy in your form.”

“Well, it’s not traditional lycanthropy,” Yelena seemingly bragged, “It’s blood-related.”

Doc sighed. “You are not immune to Gorgonic Petrification. You may be resistant, but some parts of your body will still turn to stone.”

“Well, I know that NOW,” Yelena quipped, pointing at her stone legs.

Doc crossed his arms disapprovingly. “You’re lucky the petrification didn’t get any vital organs. Imagine your lung turning partially into stone, breathing in the dust of itself. Imagine your feces petrifying inside you. Imagine half your brain turning into granite and giving yourself a lobotomy every time you-“

“Okay, I get it!” Yelena snapped, “Damn, you’re not as fun as you seemed on TV.”

“Ah.” Doc turned around, preparing some sort of treatment on a nearby table. “A fan, I see.”

“Sorta. You were so weird, I wanted to check you out.”

“I’m flattered.”

Yelena chuckled, then her face fell serious. “Why didn’t you use your doctor stuff in the tournament?”

“No supplies. I can only do so much with bottles of water and granola. And excuse you, I did PLENTY of doctor stuff.”

Yelena tilted her head. “You couldn’t find any supplies from like… scavenging around?”

“Believe it or not, it’s pretty difficult to find gauze in a wilderness battlefield that’s rotting away on a molecular level.”

“Mm, yeah. Unmaking sucks, huh?”

Dr. McNinja thought about the sight of the Unmade Arbiter he fought. He thought about the gore of spinning through him on top of Sparklelord and finding the Jar of Dirt next to the strange horse alien.

“Yeah,” Doc replied, “Sucks.”

“So what do you think happened to Jester?” Yelena asked, a curious grin on her face, “Do you think she got revived like you did?”

Not like I did, Doc thought to himself. The implications lay heavy on his shoulders, and he didn’t respond to Yelena.

“Or Slurt? That innocent kid you guys were trying to protect? I bet he’s gone for sure, he was an orphan and didn’t have any sponsors backing him up-

“Now, you may feel some discomfort.”

Doc slammed Yelena’s leg, causing a chunk of it to fly off. He seamlessly caught the chunk out of the air, making sure to minimize any crumbling. Yelena watched with horror.

“Did you just chop off a piece of my leg?”

“Shhh.”

Doc took an empty syringe and squinted. He noticed a part of the leg that was gooey with some sort of black substance. Doc sucked out the fluid, then sprinkled what appeared to be salt over the wound. He repeated the process with Yelena’s other leg, to the werewolf’s great dismay.

“H-hey, I’m sorry about the comments- just please stop doing-“

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare harm a patient,” Doc insisted, “Especially not in my own clinic. How could I call myself a doctor if I chopped your legs off for being a smart-ass?”

“...so this is a treatment plan?”

“Oh, yeah. Normally there are traces of silver in anti-Gorgonic medication, and obviously that doesn’t work for you, so weeeee are going to have to improvise.”

Dr. McNinja shook a bottle of medicine vigorously, then uncorked it. He started dabbing it into the cracks in the stone legs.

“That’s going to turn your legs back into flesh in a couple minutes. Peter?”

After a few seconds, Peter Pellbrook entered the room.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Could you be a dear and heal up her legs when they return to flesh? Get her on some Vicodin, five milligrams. The nerve endings in her legs are going to turn back into normal soon, and the damage I’ve done to her legs is going to hurt like hell soon.”

Dr. McNinja turned to his patient.

“Now, I know my intentions seemed hostile,” Doc said, “But I assure you, it wasn’t. I needed to reach the marrow of your bone to administer the medicine. So, uh, don’t sue us later, okay?”

Yelena looked at Peter, who nodded reassuringly. Peter didn’t know Doc’s treatment plans half the time, so he just took to confidently nodding when patients seemed suspicious.

“Alright,” Doc said, “Speaking of the Abyss, where did I put that Jar of-”

The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.

Flashes of memories returned to Doc. Dying in Saren’s arms as Kefka’s laser bolts skewered him through the gut. The small jar in Doc’s back pocket as he fell in battle. How his body, technically speaking, was never recovered.

“Oh, goddammit,” Doc muttered.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Peter and Daisy watched as Doc finished packing his belongings. He slung his sheathed katana over his back and threw his knapsack on the back of Sparklelord.

“Daisy, like I said, if Peter goes bloodcrazed, then there’s a glass case in my office. Chances are, he’ll have dealt with it already, but just in case, you want to inject that into his neck.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Remember, the way to repel a vampire is to use fire. You have the Fire Flower-”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Otherwise, throw open the windows. If he’s feral, then he won’t realize he’s protected by sunlight-”

Daisy smirked. “You know, last time you left us alone, you didn’t leave half this amount of instruction.”

“Well, I knew I was gonna be near you guys last time.” Doc grimaced. “I don’t even know if I’m going to be coming back from this.”

Peter crossed his arms. “You know, I’m still happy to come with you.”

Doc shook his head. “Someone needs to run the clinic when I’m gone.”

And I’m not putting you through the Unmaking.

“Anyway,” Doc said, dusting off his hands, “I’m off. Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone. Clinic, activate Gorilla with a Rocket Launcher Protocol.”

The clinic beeped as several rocket launchers protruded out from several corners of the clinic. Daisy and Peter looked at them, visibly alarmed. Dr. McNinja, meanwhile, silently climbed onto Sparklelord. The motorcycle had been gently purring as it awaited its master.

“Ready to go, Sparkly?”

“Your ultimate demise will be like a deluge of delicious Mountain Dew after years of being stranded in a desert.”

“Haha, yeah. Anyway, to Cevanti!”

With a rev that sounded suspiciously like a whinny, Sparklelord reared. Doc posed dramatically as Sparklelord’s wheels screeched against the pavement before launching forward. At speeds truly not recommendable for safety, Doc and Sparklelord were riding into the sunset.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Dr. McNinja thought about the first time the Unmaking touched him.

Because that’s how disasters work. They seem so distant until they touch you. You don’t even think about them, they’re flickering things in the back of your head that drift so lightly upon your shoulders. But then they hit you. Then it happens to you.

Dr. McNinja thought about the first time the Unmaking happened to him.

He remembered the beginning of it somewhat sheepishly. He needed his secretary to remind him that he was actually a really well-suited individual for emergency relief efforts. He remembered the news report with some irritation.

He remembered the hovercraft full of doctors and medics. He remembered how the vehicle lacked the kachunk-a-thunk he loved about machinery. The eerie calm of it all.

He remembered how it split in half. How he watched good doctors torn from the sky by insectoid demons. He remembered how he could only save one.

“Oh yeah,” Dr. McNinja exclaimed to nobody in particular, “I wonder how Dr. Leon’s doing.”

The drive through the moors was a long one. Sometimes Doc forgot that the universe he lived in had several planets that were all in easy access, not just towns and cities and countries like he was used to. He had asked the space conductor for a ticket to the stop closest to the latest Dante’s Abyss tournament. Later, he’d found out that he’d have to drive for three hours before he would arrive where the tunnels formed all those weeks ago.

Sparklelord, thankfully, did not need for fuel. Well, maybe it did. Maybe its fuel was the misery of the living things around it.

And misery there was aplenty. This planet was infamous for being the ruins of a dead world. And ever since the Battle of Markov, things were looking grimmer than ever. But Markov would not be his destination, not this time. He was sure that Mustang dude had it locked down there, anyway. The last bastion of civilization against the end.

This region especially seemed to show it. The Unmaking was already creeping towards this neck of the woods. Evergreen trees were starting to lose their color, not just in the way of dead trees, but actual color. There was a drowsiness to the woods: in the way the trees sagged under their own weight, but also in the way that it made Doc want to drift asleep. If Doc didn’t know his own body with inexplicable insight, Doc would’ve assumed this lethargy to be natural. Maybe it was the landscape, of which there was nothing to be spoken of except endless trees.

As Sparklelord launched off a particularly large tree root, Dr. McNinja thought about the battle against Davy Jones. That is, what was left of him after undeath claimed him. He’d heard the rumors that the Arbiter was still around. That made sense. Doc was impressed with the combined might of everyone down in those caves, but nothing that could defeat a god - even Sparklelord was visibly struggling against Davy Jones. It was everything the warriors could do to hold the line for a few moments before retreating.

Doc thought about how scared Davy Jones looked.

What could scare that?

It occurred to Dr. McNinja that this was the first time in a very long time he let himself have time to think. There wasn’t much time for introspection when you vaulted yourself across the countryside, constantly on duty with adventures and prisoner interrogations and house calls. Perhaps this was, on some unconscious level, intentional. Yet now, on this long drive towards the frontier of the Unmaking, Doc had plenty of time to think about himself.
He wasn’t a fan.

Doc was barely aware as Sparklelord touched down on the ground once more. The bike had a mysterious way of keeping the physician safe, albeit against their will. Oh yeah! He had a friend here, one he could talk about to keep from thinking about the… bad stuff.

“Hey, Sparklelord, whatcha thinking about?”

“I am thinking about how this humiliation is nothing compared to the suffering I will inflict upon you and everybody you love.”

Doc fell silent as Sparklelord’s engines revved, imitating the sound of laughter. He sighed.

“This drive sucks.”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Laela’Yuri vas Marya was in love with Saren Arterias.

Why wouldn’t she be? Saren was the legendary Spectre commander, the one who went rogue against the corrupt Galactic Council. He’d killed Spectres of his own right and brokered a deal with the most powerful entities in the galaxy. He was a legend. A hero.

Back home, Laela was taught that Saren was a terrorist and a rebel. She was taught that he was a man that sought to end all life in the galaxy, and was being mind-controlled by an evil world-ending race of robots. She was taught he was dangerous.

Well, the last part was correct.

Laela’Yuri vas Marya was a quarian. They were an old and proud race, once. However, they were chased off of their planet Rannoch after a robot uprising led by the AI systems known as geth. As a result, the quarians were now a spaceborne race that lived exclusively in their spaceships.

Quarians were incredibly susceptible to disease. This was likely a side effect of them adapting to the sterile environment of spaceships. As such, all quarians were confined to bodysuits for most of their lives. To open their bodysuit was to risk infection, leading to possibly fatal diseases. Most non-quarians didn’t even know what a quarian looked like under their mask.

It was unusual to see a quarian warrior, and yet, here was Laela.

Laela had never failed a mission before, even before she was brought to Saren’s glorious service… before she woke up in the Crossroads. She was one of the finest operatives that the quarian secret service had. She was considered as a candidate for the Spectre program herself, but never made it because of the prejudice against quarians.

And now that she was in the Crossroads, she made it her mission to be that same protector. She no longer had her people to protect, but that was just as well.

Laela watched her radar with anticipation. Her mission was to defend this bunker. Saren predicted that a host of would-be heroes would come to hunt him down, especially the fools who went face-to-face with him in Dante’s Abyss.

Keelah, she hoped it was the idiot doctor. That one looked easy to kill.

Perhaps this was foolish thinking. She should be hoping for a formidable opponent. One whom she could prove herself against, who would never threaten Saren again. Someone like the clown.

Well, whoever came looking for the Spectre was a threat either way, and Laela was almost excited for a good fight.

After all, she thought as her fingers traced the edges of a glass jar, she had a secret weapon.

Laela’Yuri had never failed a mission before. She didn’t intend to start now.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Dr. McNinja grunted as he knelt into a familiar stance. On top of the gravelly ledge he was on, he watched the view with a pair of binoculars and trepidation.

“Welp,” he mumbled, “That looks bad.”

In the distance, where Saren’s bunker was, a giant battle seemed to be ensuing. First of all, the entire thing seemed to be encased in a translucent energy barrier… or something. There was definitely some sort of purple-bluish bubble with a honeycomb pattern surrounding the damn place. An explosion rocked the ground, sending rubble flying from the ledge Doc was kneeling on. Bullets shot from within pinged off of the bubble, ricocheting back inside. Okay, so whatever this bubble was, it was a… well, a barrier.

“Ugh, I hate force shields.”

Doc put up his binoculars again, trying to get a glimpse of who was inside. There was Mustang, snapping his fingers as he always does, being chased by fire and monsters as he always was. Ah, Lieutenant Hawkeye. Good to know she recovered from her HELLA dire injuries back in Nausicaa. Apparently, she was in fighting shape.

Doc shook his head with approval. “Damn, you a good doctor.”

Oh, there was that Nico Cinder guy from Dante’s Abyss last time. He was performing some sort of sick guitar solo, which seemed to be sending Unmade goons flying in shockwaves of pure metal. Doc thought this was sick as hell, and was vaguely relieved to find out the man was still alive. After all… maybe Jester was still alive.

There were some other people there he didn’t recognize - was that a humanoid goat? - along with some people who he’d seen only on TV or in newspapers. There was that Chara child, who was doing some interesting work with monster biology, especially for a child. And there she was, busting ass with her hands in her pockets.

Ugh, and Saren himself was there, his armor still charred from the Suicide Squad’s little skirmish during the end of Dante’s Abyss. That was the fucker with his jar, Doc bet.

“Yeah,” Doc mumbled to himself, patting Sparklelord as he stayed crouching, “I should go help.”

On cue, the bubble seemed to pop temporarily. Five tactical vehicles of some kind surged out of the battlefield, followed by a sixth individual on a motorcycle.

A retreat, then. But why? They weren’t defectors; Darkseid didn’t HAVE defectors, only corpses. They weren’t escaped prisoners; Darkseid didn’t have those either. Some sort of tactical retreat? But the majority of Saren’s forces were still fighting, including Saren himself. And it wasn’t like the Unmade to care about civilians, let alone trying to evacuate their troops. Something high-value then.

Oh.

“There are Relics in there,” Doc mumbled to himself, “There are RELICS IN THERE-”

Sparklelord, on cue, reared its front wheel like a horse. Doc wordlessly flipped onto the seat, gripping tightly onto Sparklelord’s handlebars. After a couple seconds of a showmanly wheelie, the front tire landed hard on the ground, and both wheels skidded dramatically before the motorcycle fully launched off of the cliff.

Doc started screaming unceremoniously as the motorcycle started dropping at uncomfortably high velocities, a full 70 feet of dropping left to do.

“OH MY GOSH WHY.”

***

Laela’Yuri vas Marya was annoyed. It had been mere minutes before she claimed to herself that she would never fail a mission. Well, the mission was starting to fail. The would-be heroes made sure of that. As far as Laela could tell, Saren’s bunker was being assaulted by a group of vigilante types led by Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. It was not a good day to be a defender when chaotic dumbass superhero types were given full support by the local military.

The most annoying thing, though, was Saren’s response. She could still remember how that conversation went with her beloved commander.

“But my lord,” Laela beseeched, “I can help! I’m the best fighter you have in your ranks. These pests will be nothing.”

“You will do no such thing.” Saren didn’t even look at Laela.

“There are literal children on their side. I can crack their necks and be gone before they even knew I was there-”

Saren suddenly laid a hand on Laela’s shoulder. Kee’lah, Kee’lah, his hand was on her shoulder.

“Laela,” Saren said, his voice low and thrumming despite the clamor of battle just below them, “I need you. But I need you to follow my orders more. Without your help, these people are going to steal the riches we’ve earned for Darkseid. Do you understand?”

Laela, blushing under her mask, nodded sheepishly.

“There are powerful weapons in this bunker. They need to be moved to a safe location. I need you to do this for me.”

Laela nodded again. Saren smiled warmly at her, his grip tightening on her shoulder.

“Good. I want you to report back once you’re done. For Darkseid.”

The way he was holding onto her shoulder was so hot- aaand it was over. Laela mumbled, “F-for Darkseid.”

Laela shook her head free of the memory. Kee’lah, she needed to focus. She was an elite soldier, not some empty-headed schoolgirl. Regardless of her feelings for Saren, she needed to finish the mission the best she could-

What was that noise coming from above?

Laela looked up and behind her. Her mouth dropped as a man in a white coat riding a motorcycle started to drop more-or-less out of the sky. He was screaming some string of harsh curse words as he fell, probably in some sort of a battle cry.

“All units, be advised!” Laela shouted into her comms, revving her own motorcycle to speed up, “We have a hostile on our tail!”

Laela spun her motorcycle around, the satchel around her shoulder shaking as she did. Now was the time to prove herself. As her assailant unleashed a vicious war cry (which she noted could also possibly be a scream of terror), Laela drew her shotgun and prepared for battle.

Laela’Yuri had never failed a mission before. She didn’t intend to start now.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

The center of danger is here… of a particular size and shape, and below us.

Dr. McNinja, still screaming, drew his katana as he and Sparklelord descended upon the poor people below him. Laela pointed her shotgun at the assailant, firing off several blasts. None of the pellets seemed to make contact with Doc himself as Sparklelord contorted itself to block all the shots.

“Bosh’tet,” Laela cursed as she tossed aside her spent shotgun. She drew her own melee weapon, a rod of digitized steel which extended holographically. Despite it seeming like a hologram, the rod was fully material. There was a clash of steel as weapon met weapon, and through them, combatant met combatant.

The momentum was Doc’s, and his sword practically crashed down on Laela’s rod. Laela used what strength she could muster to shove the sword aside, but was just a little too late. The edge of the blade scratched Laela’s helmet, sending an array of audio and visual feedback sprawling across her heads-up display.

Laela, to her credit, swiftly realized the ramifications of Doc’s plunging attack. She jerked on the handlebar of the motorcycle as the pair’s weapons clashed, forcing her vehicle to swerve to the right. As Doc was coming from her right, his own momentum threw his motorcycle tumbling over Laela’s, its two wheels landing (with miraculous stability) on the ground to Laela’s left.

And thus the chase was on.

Dr. McNinja took a moment to catch his breath (and his vomit in his mouth) as Laela recovered from the surprise attack. The physician swerved to his right, closing in on the quarian warrior. Laela pulled out a plasma submachine gun from her left leg holster and sprayed bolts of hot plasma at Doc. McNinja, in turn, jerked back on his bike and swerved to the right, moving as fast as he could to leave Laela’s range of fire. Sparklelord spun a full 360 degrees on its hind wheel before slamming its front wheel down on Laela’s back wheel.

Laela’Yuri was launched through the air as her bike toppled along the ground. She tapped her left wrist, and an orange holographic dashboard splayed across her forearm. She pressed a sequence of buttons, making her original motorcycle dematerialize and re-materialize under her. The quarian warrior dropped seamlessly onto the new bike, brandishing her gun again.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Doc snapped, “Why can’t you do that, Sparklelord?”

Before the unicorn-motorcycle could answer, Laela let fly another flurry of plasma bullets. Doc swerved to the side, sheathing his sword. The bike launched into the air on Laela’s flank.

“Be ready to catch me!” Doc commanded over the roaring wind, kicking off of Sparklelord.

Laela looked up just in time to see Doc full-body collide into her.
The two combatants wrestled to gain control of the situation as Laela’s bike careened dangerously to the left. Thanks to the internal mass effect engines on the bike, the vehicle managed to keep riding forward, despite being nearly horizontal. Dr. McNinja and Laela exchanged blows while standing gingerly on the side of this advanced mechanical beast as it shot off-course.

Laela swung with her nano-titanium rod, hoping to jam Doc’s sword-bearing fingers and disarm him. Doc slid his blade along the rod’s side, giving it a shove when at the hilt of the weapon. Laela took a second to catch her balance as Doc spun to execute a leg-sweeping kick. Laela deftly hopped up, bearing down her rod onto Doc’s head. The physician parried with his own weapon and dared for a stab. Laela leaned back, her center of gravity already rendering her almost supine. Before Doc could retort with a quick follow-up, Laela knocked the blade aside with her weapon and righted herself.

Meanwhile, the other SUV-like advanced trucks in the caravan seemed to just notice the skirmish happening behind them. Two of them peeled off to follow Laela’s careening motorcycle as the other three continued on their route.

Well, enough of this distraction, Doc supposed.

“Catch me, Sparklelord!” McNinja shouted as he kicked off Laela’s bike.

Doc soared through the air, tumbling haplessly at the extremely high velocities that render landscapes into blurs. There was a tense moment where Doc couldn’t actually see his motorcycle driving anywhere nearby.

“catch me catch me catch me”

Dr. McNinja grunted as his backside landed against the leather seat of his ignoble steed. Sparklelord’s engine roared in complaint as Doc scrambled into a proper position.

“Hell yeah!” Doc whooped as he revved the bike, launching the vehicle forward. Laela, meanwhile, scrambled on her bike to get it upright.

Doc scanned the other vehicles. The soldiers inside were now starting to draw their weapons, opening fire on Doc. The physician jerked his bike to the side, avoiding the incoming barrage of hot plasma. He drove alongside a truck, tossing a syringe at it.

The syringe crashed against it unceremoniously.

The soldiers aboard that vehicle laughed. This fool of an assailant apparently didn’t even realize this was an ND3 Warthog Troop Carrier. Though it was no Mako, it was designed to protect against bullets, let alone glass jars. What was he even thinking? For that syringe to do anything, it would be borderline magical-

That was the last thought they had before the van they were in dissolved completely into dust.

Unbeknownst to the truck’s passengers, Doc had managed to distill the ancient mummy’s curse into a serum. The curse was that whosoever (or whatsoever) touched the cursed object would turn into sand. Dr. McNinja had easily cured the disease before, but to synthesize it himself - that was difficult. He only had one of these vials with him.

“Good use,” Doc said as he witnessed the carnage.

The van started weaving to the side as the driver began to lose control of the vehicle. The front of the van was the first to decay, the hood of the engine dissolving and covering the windshield with sand. As the engine began to disintegrate, the windshield itself turned into sand, covering the passengers within with what used to be a protective shell. The front tire popped as the rubber started to lose its integrity, causing the vehicle to start spinning out. Dr. McNinja swerved out of the way as the van crashed onto its side and began tumbling, crumbling into sand the whole time. Its passengers began to fling out of the disintegrating vehicle, with no more wall to hold them inside the vehicle. Several got crushed under the various supply crates and other debris they had stored in the van.

“Noooice,” Doc mumbled as he stormed forward.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

With a roar, Sparklelord jerked forward. Doc latched on tight to the handlebars, scanning the battlefield once more. There was still another van here, in desperate need of getting punched or something.

“Yeah, I should not punch a truck,” Doc muttered to himself, “How to take it out...?”

Dr. McNinja swerved hard to the left, bringing himself closer to the convoy truck. A soldier within threw open the passenger door and opened fire on Doc. The physician cursed loudly as Sparklelord reared onto its rapidly spinning back wheel, much like a horse. The bike twirled before landing hard on its front wheel. This maneuver, by some miracle, cost Sparklelord a minimal amount of speed - just enough to adjust Doc’s position to be out of the soldier’s line of fire, behind the convoy.

As Doc repositioned himself, the back door of the truck flew up, revealing a squadron of five soldiers dressed in some sort of advanced armor. They all opened fire with their rifles, firing shavings of metal. Doc would have loved to analyze these weapons - maybe later.

Dr. McNinja flung his smoke bomb directly into the crowd of soldiers. With a hiss, the smoke bomb detonated instantly, covering the truck with a cloud of dark fog. Smoke trailed out of the truck at high velocities as the soldiers lost visual contact with the doctor.

Thankfully, the soldiers were all wearing visors. They turned on their infrared sensors and started searching for Doc’s outline.

Sparklelord’s passenger had vanished, leaving just the bike chasing faithfully from behind.

“Where did he go?” one of them shouted.

“Boo!” Doc replied.

The soldier spun around to face the voice from behind him. Doc wordlessly cut him down with two slashes of his sword. The other soldiers all turned to face him and opened fire themselves. Doc threw a pair of frozen shamrocks at two of the soldiers, cracking them across their visors. As the two soldiers struggled with their cracked visors, Doc charged a third and skewered him with his katana. The skewered trooper’s weapon fired, scattering shards of metal everywhere as Doc swung him around. Using the embedded weapon as leverage, he flipped forward and kicked two soldiers in the chest, making them cease their fire - one even dropped her weapon.

Doc grappled one of the soldiers with a cracked visor and threw him against the other with impaired vision. He then dropkicked the pair, sending them flying out the back of the truck. With a deft maneuver, he spun on his shoulders back onto his feet, spin-kicking the last soldier as he did so. Dr. McNinja grabbed the last soldier by the neck and ripped off his helmet.

“Let’s see, this truck still has a driver,” Doc said, smearing some sort of cream on the soldier’s chin, “This should take care of that.”

After that, Doc slapped the soldier’s rear, causing the soldier to jerk forward. The soldier grunted as his skin started rippling.

The soldier grunted in panic, “What’s happening to me-”

The soldier had no time to finish his words. His shoulders rippled as they began to double in size, ripping straight out of the tight armor he was wearing. His hands braced against the ceiling of the truck, but in seconds he was already outgrowing the relatively compact space that once housed him and his companions.

In a mere collection of seconds, the soldier had risen to twenty feet in height and completely changed in appearance. His chin was now covered in a luscious black beard. What remained of his armor lay in metal shreds around him as the soldier grew in size. The truck he was in exploded as his mangled body struggled to grow against the constraints of the truck’s walls. The collapsed truck spun out under the man’s weight, its tires grinding across the road. Doc was flying through the air, grappling hook and cable tied around Sparklelord.

“Nooooice,” Dr. McNinja said, grunting as he landed on Sparklelord’s seat, “Now I just gotta deal with that fucker with the sword!”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Dr. McNinja grimaced. The chase had now gone on for almost thirty minutes. Sparklelord, being an eldritch unicorn in the form of a motorcycle, didn’t need any fuel, and the road was flat and straight. Unfortunately, whatever was fueling the other swordsman’s motorcycle was going to last a while, given the speed at which she was moving.

Laela was thinking the same thing. Her mass effect engine could go infinitely, of course. Whatever was fueling the rainbow motorcycle of her mystery pursuer was apparently infinite - it couldn’t be a mass effect engine, they were rare to find in the Crossroads, and the motorcycle looked too primitive to have such advanced technology anyways.

The pair had other reasons to be concerned. Both of them, expert spies as they were, had scouted out the battlefield outside of Saren’s base. They were now far from the base. Neither of them knew the terrain.

If they had, perhaps, they would not be going so fast.

Sparklelord whinnied as they sped along the road. Dr. McNinja looked down, alarmed.

“Uh… what’s up, Sparklelord?”

“You are getting no closer to your opponent.”

“Maybe if you kicked it up a notch!” Doc snapped.

“I am going as fast as I’m willing to go,” Sparklelord retorted, “Otherwise, it will be difficult to keep you onboard.”

Doc cocked his head. “Yeah, okay, that’s pretty important. What’s bothering you?”

“What bothers me is that I am a steed for an incompetent symbol of Radicalhood. I am the proud unicorn mage Sparklelord, Destroyer of Worlds, and-”

“Yeah, yeah, I meant what’s bothering you besides the usual.”

Sparklelord whinnied again, and the headlight flickered.

“There is a dangerous land ahead. I can take you in, but if I were you… I would make my play soon.”

“What do you mean, a dangerous land?”

Sparklelord whinnied again, electing to not respond. Dr. McNinja frowned. If even Sparklelord felt threatened by what was ahead…

Dr. McNinja drew his grappling hook and swung it in circles.

“Alright, let’s do this shizz.”

Sparklelord whinnied as they started speeding up. Dr. McNinja squinted as he held on tight to Sparklelord’s handlebars.

“Just get me close enough and I’ll-”

Sparklelord whinnied again, and their front wheel stopped in its tracks. The back of the motorcycle jerked up, fully launching Doc off of his steed.

“AHHHHHH”

Dr. McNinja contorted his body in mid-air. He managed to get a grip of himself at the last second and threw the grappling hook. Thankfully, what with Sparklelord throwing him off, Dr. McNinja now had enough speed to catch up to Laela - the hook landed on the back wheel of the bike, catching between its spokes.

There was a horrible grinding noise as Doc landed roughly on the ground. Laela’s bike was still moving at ridiculous speeds, but Doc managed to land on his feet and started sliding along the road like he was on a jet-ski. His shoes fully caught on fire due to the friction - smoke and sparks trailed behind his heels like ribbons of carnage.

Helpfully enough, this made Laela’s bike slow down tremendously. Laela turned around to see what was decelerating her, and met Doc’s eyes. In one swift motion, she formed her nanotech blade again and swung at Doc’s cord. At the last second, Doc launched himself backwards - the tangled cord in Laela’s back wheel held it taut, suddenly spinning out sideways. Laela jumped up as the bike started sliding on its side.

Before its mass effect engines could right the bike again, the side of the bike skidded along the ground, completely shredding the bike and sending high-tech shrapnel flying back at Doc. Dr. McNinja grunted as he spun in the air, covering his body with his labcoat. The shrapnel scattered uselessly against his back, flying behind him. In the same spinning motion, Doc reached into his coat and threw two frozen shamrocks at Laela.

Laela parried the two with a single swift strike of her rod. She realized, however, that her bike was now a lost cause. The entire left side of the vehicle was smoldering and, to her lament, about to explode.

Laela launched herself forward, drawing a shotgun from behind her. Dr. McNinja, having landed on the ground, pulled his cord as tight as he could. He slid under Laela as the quarian soldier blasted her shotgun where the physician had been moments ago.

Now with both bikes gone, both warriors stood about five meters from each other, taking a moment to catch their breath.

“That was some crazy stunts we did, lady,” Doc called out.

“For Darkseid,” Laela responded.

“You couldn’t banter for two seconds?”

Laela conceded a smile, but under her occluded helmet, Doc couldn’t see it. She drew a jar of dirt, miraculously intact from that previous engagement, from a pouch on her back.

“You’re looking for this,” Laela said, holding up the jar of dirt.

Doc drew his katana. “That was mine. And don’t try and finders keepers me, I only lost it because I got super murdered in the field.”

“You conceded the Relic when you fell to Lord Saren.”

“Saren wasn’t even the one who shot me!” Doc snapped, “It was a fucking clown.”

Laela aimed her shotgun again with a snarl, firing off two shells. Doc responded with two expertly timed leaps, his body a whirling storm of white fabric as he tumbled through the air. Two more frozen shamrocks arced out of his coat. Laela shot one out of the air, but the other jammed into her shotgun. The weapon sparked and fizzled as the shamrock surprisingly did enough damage to disable it.

Blade and rod clashed as Dr. McNinja and Laela crashed into each other. Doc threw a low kick to trip Laela, which Laela avoided by stepping back. Laela threw a plasma grenade at Doc, who knocked aside the explosive with the flat of his blade. The explosion harmlessly enveloped him in heat and energy as the grenade detonated behind him. Doc charged forward, blade pointed forward. Laela knocked aside the blade with her rod and aimed for Doc’s head. Doc leaned back, using his momentum to launch a kick. The kick connected, forcing Laela to double over. Doc slashed down with his katana to sever Laela’s head, but Laela launched herself forward into a tackle, ducking under the blade.

The pair of combatants were a whirl of steel and nano-titanium. Each strike was parried, every movement responded to with a counterattack, as the two martial artists strained themselves. The two were unfamiliar with the other’s fighting style, but they were masters of their craft - they knew how to adjust their techniques.

Finally, Laela got the upper hand. Doc was on his back foot, and Laela swung the rod in an upper arc. Doc fully threw himself back to dodge the blow, tumbling on a hand.

This place is not a place of honor.

The center of danger is HERE.

Doc felt his body float up. His backwards tumble was going way too far - what was happening? Dr. McNinja looked down. His gravity seemed to be halved. He was floating about fifteen feet in the air, still tumbling.

Laela seemed to notice this too. She took a few seconds to comprehend what she was seeing… before she drew her pistol.

“Uh oh,” Doc said.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

This place is not a place of honor...

No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here...

Nothing valued is here.

What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us.

This message is a warning about danger.

In 1993, there was a report from Sandia National Laboratories which listed a potential list of messages that could be used to ward off curious travelers from nuclear waste sites. These messages were designed to be understood even after the fall of human civilization, so that whoever came next would be protected from the offal of our hubris.

This place could’ve used such a sign.

Not that Doc would’ve listened.

Dr. McNinja hung in the air. It was really trippy hanging up here, completely suspended. It felt less like floating and more like falling forever without moving. His heart was seizing as his body felt the adrenaline from falling.

Laela, meanwhile, was aiming her pistol. She didn’t fully understand what was happening to this strange man, but she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

She fired. The bullet flew forward at Doc.

It sprang uselessly and harmlessly off of Doc’s forehead. The squashed bullet floated in a gentle spin, caught in the same gravitational anomaly that Doc was.

Laela lowered her gun in disbelief and no small amount of annoyance.

“You’re bulletproof?”

Doc, meanwhile, was frozen in shock. “Uh… no. That’s new.”

Dr. McNinja poked at the bullet. Without warning, it started zipping around at the speeds of, well, a bullet. It stopped abruptly again upon colliding harmlessly with the back of Doc’s shoulder, floating off again.

Doc glanced at Laela. “Yeah, definitely new-“

Laela stopped hesitating, firing three more shots at Doc. Doc yelped as the three bullets scattered again, bouncing around in a web of volatile speed. This time, instead of colliding with Doc, they just stopped in place. They floated as if they were jammed into a vat full of jelly.

“Would you stop shooting at me?” Doc snapped.

Laela ignored the doctor, reloading her gun and firing off another series of shots. There were now a handful of shaved steel floating next to Dr. McNinja, who was curled up in the fetal position.

“Jesus, you are crazy,” Doc grumbled.

Laela scoffed. “Hm. Well, even if I can’t kill you now, at least you’re trapped. I will accomplish my mission.”

Laela reached behind her for the Jar of Dirt. She lifted it, taunting Dr. McNinja. The physician squinted unhappily, then tried to swim in the air, as if that would help at all. Laela smirked at the sight.

“I’ll see you around, Doctor McNi-”

Without warning, Laela fell directly on her face as something pulled on her ankle. She was pulled into the air, much like a rope snare had caught her foot. Several of her things clattered to the ground, including most of her weapons and…

“Hahaha you dropped the Jar of Dirt,” Dr. McNinja laughed, pointing at Laela. He was fully upside-down right now. “You had one job and you messed it up hahahaha.”

Doc couldn’t see Laela’s face under her glass mask, but surely she was frowning heavily at him. Nothing she could do, now. She was floating in stasis, just like Doc was. She looked down at the Jar of Dirt, which was resting on the ground.

“If Saren can’t have it, nobody can.”

Laela drew her pistol and fired three shots at the glass jar. They pinged uselessly off of the jar, scattering into the air. The bullets flew in non-Euclidean curves that Doc couldn’t even keep track of. At one point, a bullet flew up to Doc’s chin, quivered in place for a few seconds, then fully disintegrated.

“What the hell, man!” Doc shouted.

“Why won’t the glass shatter?” Laela snapped.

“It’s a magic jar, you moron!” Doc hollered, “Why’s your first solution to any problem always to shoot it?”

There was a tense moment of silence as Laela considered shooting Doc again. She decided against it - she’d need the ammo for later. Dr. McNinja sighed, his body still slowly rotating in place.

“So,” Doc said, “Know any jokes?”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

There was little for the pair to say. They had each spent a couple minutes trying all sorts of clever methods to get out of their predicament, to no avail. Dr. McNinja’s grappling hook and cable were unspooled and flailing in the air like writhing tentacles, next to several melting shamrocks which were spinning and floating in place. A cloud of metal shards orbited Laela, forming a pretty solid outline of the force that was keeping Laela trapped.

Since the adversaries gave up, they had taken to perusing their various forms of technology to try and reach out for help. There was no cigar to be found there either. They had plenty of signal, both on McNinja’s smartphone and the orange holographic gauntlet that Laela called an omni-tool. They could even peruse the Medium. And yet, all of their calls for help failed to be sent. It was like this place wanted them trapped.

Well, go figure, they were trapped. Trapped in a gravitational anomaly, surrounded by now useless weapons.

“This place is called the Zone of Alienation,” Doc mumbled. He was currently curled up around his phone, seeming more like he was lying on an invisible couch rather than trapped in a floating prison. “In case you were curious.”

“I wasn’t.”

Doc grinned as he heard Laela’s device pause in its whirring before Laela started typing something. Obviously, she was now looking up what the Zone of Alienation was.

Laela and Dr. McNinja had learned some new things about their predicament. One, they were stuck. That one was obvious. Two, things caught in the orbit tended to stay in orbit. Three, with enough effort, they could throw things with enough velocity to escape the gravitational spheres they were trapped in.

Most interestingly, this meant they were able to throw things to each other. Not that they would. They were mortal enemies.

“Lord Saren will come save me,” Laela scoffed.

Doc snickered. “It’s been a full day. Even your minivans of soldiers aren’t coming by, why would Saren?”

“You don’t understand my relationship with Saren.”

“I think I sorta get it, actually,” Dr. McNinja sighed. He kicked his foot forward, sending himself into a gentle spin in place. “He says you’re important to him, but he fucks off and leaves you to die. If he comes back, it’ll be for his Relics.”

Laela gave him a withering stare. Doc pretended to not notice, but her expression was clear even under her glass mask.

“You’re lying. Trying to get under my skin,” Laela hissed, “For what purpose, I don’t know.”

“I dunno, I think I got a pretty good read on the guy,” Doc said, still gently spinning in place. “Shady-ass military dude with a bunch of black ops secrets. Duty above loyalty. Hell, I’m surprised he hasn’t shot a missile here just to cover his tracks.”

Dr. McNinja thought about something, then turned to Laela.

“You think he’s dead?” Doc said.

Laela couldn’t help it. She threw a grenade at Doc’s gravitational sphere. Doc watched uninterested as the grenade fizzled. Yeah, they’d tested explosives too.

“Damn,” Laela sighed, “That was my last one.”

“Probably should’ve saved it for when you could’ve hurt me.”

Laela swore quietly at the annoying doctor.

***

The danger is unleashed only if you substantially disturb this place physically.

Three hours had passed.

Dr. McNinja pulled out another granola bar from his pocket. He started munching it quite happily. Laela watched him with envy - it had been several hours since they got trapped, and she was starting to feel peckish. When Doc glanced over, she looked away.

“Why, you want some?” McNinja asked.

Laela didn’t respond. In fact, she oriented her body to specifically float away from the taunting physician.

“Tough,” Doc said. It would’ve been nicer if Laela had actually asked for a granola bar.

“I can’t eat it anyway,” Laela said with a sigh, “You’re human, right?”

Doc raised a brow in interest. “Sure, but I’ve seen plenty of aliens eat human food. What’s your issue?”

Laela scoffed. “Of course. You don’t even know basic quarian biology. Primitive, even for a human.”

“Oh, you’re a quarian?” Doc said, spinning to face Laela. “I’m actually supposed to be at a lecture about dextro-protein life forms tomorrow. I’ve never met a quarian before!”

Laela turned around suspiciously. “You’ve heard of us?”

“Only scholastically,” Doc admitted, “Didn’t recognize your bodysuit - I suppose I should’ve. I like to be prepared. I’ve been researching dextro-protein diseases and- ehh, you don’t wanna hear it.”

Laela kinda did. It was unusual to find anyone who knew of her species in the Crossroads, let alone be interested in it. But! This was her enemy. It would not do to fraternize with her prey.

That was, until she felt her stomach growl again. Doc drew another granola bar from his pockets, waving it back and forth.

“It’s Graxen,” he said in a singsong voice.

Laela gulped. Graxen was a popular dextro-protein snack from her homeland. She hadn’t seen anywhere that sold it in Cevanti. Where had the human even acquired it?

“Why do you have that?” Laela said.

“Like I said, I like to be prepared.”

“You can’t even eat those. Humans are levo-protein-”

“Listen, do you want it or not?”

Laela spun in place, her body language one of clear rejection. Doc smirked and pocketed the granola bar.

“Alright, be hungry for all I care.”

***

Five hours had passed.

“Sure you don’t want the granola bar?” Doc asked. At this point, he was just bored.

Laela swallowed hard, then looked at Dr. McNinja.

“...I wouldn’t say no.”

Doc smirked. “Say please!”

Laela scoffed then spun in place.

***

Five hours and twelve minutes had passed.

“Please.”

Dr. McNinja grinned. He flung the granola bar into Laela’s sphere. The quarian snatched it out of the air and gobbled it down.

***

Five hours and fifteen minutes had passed.

“Thanks,” Laela begrudgingly said.

Dr. McNinja kicked off again, spinning once more in the air. “No probs.”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Eight hours had passed.

Currently, Laela’Yuri vas Marya and Dr. McNinja were finding some entertainment with a dagger. It was Dr. McNinja’s, but right now the two were absentmindedly tossing it back and forth. There was some confusion as to their intentions; both assumed they were trying to kill the other, but neither had verbally confirmed it. They knew that there was no point in seriously trying to kill each other; honestly, at this point, it was just something to do.

Laela flung the dagger at Dr. McNinja without even looking. She was currently reading a book digitally on her omni-tool - an orange holographic bracer that acted as Laela’s portable computer. The deck of the omni-tool floated around Laela’s forearm, while a wheel that acted as the navigational tool wrapped around Laela’s hand.

Doc, likewise, wasn’t watching the weapon fly towards him, having found the sudoku book in his coat. It stopped two inches from his open eye, then quivered as it was caught in the anomalous gravitational field. It moved away from Doc, then joined the miscellaneous debris passively floating in orbit.

Doc clicked his pen a few times, then scribbled something into the sudoku. He snatched the dagger without looking, then hurled it at Laela. It did the same thing as it did with Doc - the blade stopped inches from Laela’s visor, then joined the other objects in Laela’s orbit. Laela didn’t even look up, mostly paying attention to her omni-tool.

God, they were bored.

“So how come you joined Saren?” Doc asked.

Laela returned the dagger with another forceful throw. “What, are we friends now?”

“We’re stuck here for who-knows-how-long. Possibly forever. Might as well talk.”

Laela thought about it. The dagger stopped inches from her shoulder. She grabbed it and threw it back before responding.

“Well,” she said, “I’m in love with him.”

Doc actually looked up at that. “You’re in love with the psycho who wants to end the world?”

“Ugh, so uneducated,” Laela scoffed, “Saren wanted to save us. Darkseid doesn’t mean to destroy everything, he shows salvation to those who cooperate.”

Doc squinted at that. “What? No, he doesn’t.”

“Then what do you call us?” Laela retorted, “Us who fight in his army?”

“Slaves.”

“Such a reductive word. We’re instruments of his will, yes, but it’s a position of glory.”

Doc thought about it. “But why not fight Darkseid? He’s… you know. Evil. That makes you a servant of evil.”

“Survival demands sacrifices from us all, Doctor,” Laela replied, “You call it evil, I call it pragmatic.”

Doc spun around in his sphere, looking at Laela earnestly. “You know, I’ve read Saren’s file. He was a Spectre or whatever, and other than that, he really doesn’t like talking about his past life. But he and his goons, including you, talk a big game about saving the world from death.”

“Yes.”

“Have you considered that your pragmatism is just… a form of giving up?”

Laela raised a finger. “Only a fool fights the inevitable.”

“So you’re saying there’s no hope of fighting Darkseid.”

Laela nodded. Doc shrugged.

“I dunno, we kicked his ass in Nausicaa.”

Laela scoffed again. “You would call Nausicaa a victory?”

“We fought an Arbiter, made it retreat, and most of us survived,” Doc said, “Wouldn’t you?”

“It was a temporary setback,” Laela sighed, “Plus, you weren’t fighting Lord Darkseid himself. You were fighting one of his servants. They are… not infallible.”

“Like Saren.”

“Yes,” Laela admitted, “Like Saren.”

Doc leaned back again. “You know, I’ve met Arbiters.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Have you?”

“Not personally.”

“The thing about them is that they’re gods,” Doc said, “You forget how powerful a word that is. You kinda use it to say something is powerful. But then you meet a god. Man, that’s scary.”

Laela looked at Doc. “What’s your point?”

McNinja shrugged. “Don’t have one. I thought we were just talking.”

“I could’ve sworn you were trying to convince me to leave Commander Saren.”

Doc looked at her earnestly. “Does some part of you want me to?”

Laela swallowed hard at that question. She… didn’t know what to say to that.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Ten hours had passed.

Saren was dead.

Laela mourned the loss. She cried openly and bitterly, curled up in her gravitational sphere. Dr. McNinja offered some words of comfort, but for once, he seemed to know to stay quiet. Yet Laela’ felt herself relaxing. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her mind - some sort of static noise that had left. She felt… clear.

Perhaps it was because she had cried for the first time in a while.

They’d stopped their little dagger game less than an hour ago, when they found out the news. Currently, it was floating in Doc’s floating pile of debris.

Laela couldn’t stop thinking about what Doc said.

“I could’ve sworn you were trying to convince me to leave Commander Saren.”

“Does some part of you want me to?”

Laela thought about it. She was concerned why this question kept dwelling on her mind. It wasn’t like her to be caught up on a thought like this, let alone a thought quite so treasonous. It was obvious to her - she didn’t want Doc to change her mind. In a sense, nobody WANTED their mind changed - at best, you would be open to it. But a person’s convictions defined them. Why would someone WANT to be changed like that?

So why did Laela feel that Doc had said something really important?

Frustrated, Laela grabbed a piece of shrapnel surrounding her and chucked it at Dr. McNinja. However, it was a half-hearted throw, and it landed sadly on the ground in between the two adversaries. Doc noticed it with some interest.

“Nice throw,” he quipped.

“Absolutely shut up,” Laela snapped back.

“Shame, shutting up isn’t a thing I’m particularly good at,” Doc sighed, “Especially when I’m boooored. When do you think we’ll get out of these?”

Laela noted with some interest at the falling shrapnel surrounding her. Whatever gravitational anomaly had trapped them was, seemingly, losing interest. Perhaps it would release them soon.

“Perhaps soon,” Laela admitted to Doc.

Dr. McNinja looked at her. “And what do you plan on doing once you get out?”

Laela sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You know, we don’t need to be enemies,” Doc said, “We could even be friends.”

Laela smiled bitterly. “We were trying to kill each other not a day ago.”

“I’ve met some of my best friends that way,” Doc rebutted.

The quarian looked Doc in the eye for the first time since they got trapped. She stared at him for a while. They were both masked heavily enough that it was difficult to read each other’s expressions, but there was an understanding.

“You know how I feel,” Laela mumbled, “You know what I must do.”

Doc nodded. “I figured you’d say something like that.”

The physician kicked with his legs again, sending his body into a spiral. There was less momentum now compared to when he did this before. Whatever was suspending was indeed weakening.

“You know,” he said, “It was nice to talk while it lasted, though.”

Laela didn’t respond.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t still chat while we’re stuck here, though, right?”

***

Eleven hours had passed.

“So then Peter tries to punch me in the face - again! - and got his fist stuck in the wall. I had to pull it out AND make repairs later.”

Laela chuckled. “This seems a bit of an overreaction. I thought you said you left a note?”

Doc groaned. “That’s the fuck of it. I left the note in my office, which he can’t enter without my permission.”

Laela fully laughed at that. It was a nice laugh, like a stone skipping on a babbling creek. Well, Doc supposed one COULDN’T skip a stone on a babbling creek, but what was there to say? That’s what it sounded like.

“So what’d you do then?”

Doc waved his hand. “Ugh, it turned out he had bitten Daisy and then I had to cure Daisy’s vampirism - it was a whole ordeal. They’re together now, though.”

Laela grinned. “That’s nice. And it’s a healthy relationship?”

“As healthy as it can be at their age,” Doc sighed contentedly, “Which is a miracle. There’s almost always a mismanaged power dynamic with vampire-mortal relationships, but the two of them treat each other like equals. If anything, Peter seems like the one with a disability.”

Laela nodded. She paused for a moment, then finally said, “It’s good of you. Um. To take care of that child.”

Doc shrugged. “Well, in a lot of ways, he also takes care of me. We’re family.”

Dr. McNinja watched Laela not react to that. He cocked his head.

“You got any family?”

“Not in the Crossroads, no,” Laela said, “But… in my original homeworld… I had a mother.”

Dr. McNinja nodded, opting to stay silent.

“Her name was Teeala’Yuri Vas Marya.” Laela swallowed hard. “She was… kind. And perhaps too gentle. There was a frailty about her, my mother. Like a breeze could knock her over. A certain… weakness.”

Doc tilted his head. “Did you resent that?”

“No, I’m not a krogan,” Laela chuckled, “I wanted to honor it. I wanted to protect the weak from whatever dangers were out there. I guess… that’s why I joined the military. In some ways, it was a manifestation of me wanting to protect my mother.”

McNinja nodded. “That’s not an irregular train of logic.”

Laela sighed. “Well, it didn’t matter. When Sovereign attacked the Citadel, she was among the dead.”

“Sovereign being some sort of ancient alien…?”

Laela blinked. “Right on the money. How did you-”

“Oh, it’s always an ancient alien or something,” Doc chattered, then looked earnestly at Laela. “Not that I’m devaluing your experience. I’ve been through an ancient alien invasion myself. It was dinosaurs, for me. It’s always so silly until it happens to you.”

Laela nodded. “That was when everything changed. Saren was revealed to be behind the attack. That was when the people of the Citadel knew they weren’t safe. And before long… I was taken to the Crossroads.”

Dr. McNinja squinted. “Hang on, Saren was behind the Sovereign attack?”

Laela blinked. “I… yes. Why?”

“Then you must have resented him,” Doc said, leaning in, “He killed your mother. Why were you serving him?”

Laela blinked again. She stared off into the distance.

“I don’t know.”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Twelve hours had passed.

Not that anyone was counting anymore.

The sun was starting to set. Dr. McNinja and Laela stood on the ground, their legs shaky. Both seemed to take a moment to stretch and regain their bearings. Whatever gravitational curse had bound them to the sky had released them, leaving them surrounded in a ring of weapons and ammunition.

Nothing valued is here…

Dr. McNinja gently picked up his katana. He looked up, gently watching Laela’s reaction. The quarian, in return, picked up her own nano-titanium rod.

No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…

They both sighed bitterly.

“You really gonna do this?” Doc called out, “After everything you’ve learned about yourself?”

“It’s all I know,” Laela replied, “I have to stop you.”

The two continued to pick up the rest of their arsenal scattered around the ground. Doc kept his eyes down, winding the cable attached to his grappling hook.

“That’s disappointing,” he admitted.

It was only about a minute before the two of them were ready to fight again. Unlike last time, neither of them had ferocity in their hearts. They watched each other, perhaps even searching for a sign of salvation - a sign they didn’t have to do this.

It was Laela who struck first.

She lunged forward with her nano-titanium rod, which flashed in the orange light of the sun. Doc brandished his own blade, keeping it back in a defensive position. He batted away the first two strikes, then dared to sweep his blade across Laela’s torso. His heart wasn’t in it, and Laela dodged easily.

“Kill me!”

“I really don’t want to.”

Laela pulled out her second and last pistol. Doc cartwheeled to the side to dodge the hot metal shards firing out of her weapon. With a spinning jump, the physician threw some frozen shamrocks, jamming the weapon. Laela clicked her tongue as she threw the now useless weapon aside.

“Kill me!” she repeated.

“You’re clearly the victim here,” Doc said, pulling out his sword again, “You’re just gonna fight me because you were told by someone who was mind-controlling you?”

Laela threw a grenade at Doc, who promptly drop-kicked it. It flew off into the distance, where it exploded on the ground. Laela swung her titanium rod again, and Doc swiftly deflected it. Laela pulled out her shotgun. Doc grabbed it with his grappling hook and threw it far, far aside.

“Kill me!”

“Fine.”

Dr. McNinja took his sword and stabbed Laela through the stomach.

The first thing Laela noticed was her suit’s interface alerting her to the rupture in her suit. Then she felt the cold steel inside her body. It was a brief, serene moment until the pain started to settle in. She felt blood pool around her wound.

Was this how she died?

Laela grabbed Doc’s hand. For the first time, the physician could sort of see her eyes through the mask. They were pleading.

The quarian fell to the ground. Doc grimly picked up the Jar of Dirt from her body.

This place is not a place of honor…

***

Peter watched Doc with horror.

“So you stabbed her?!”

Doc shrugged. “Yeah.”

Peter and Daisy sighed.

“Well,” the vampire slowly said, “I guess you didn’t have a-”

“Oh, oh!” Doc exclaimed, “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. I patched her up before I left.”

Daisy looked at him. “Oh. So you didn’t kill her.”

Doc scoffed. “No! I left her a card for the clinic.”

Peter scratched his chin. “I question the judgment of giving a very recently homicidal maniac our address, but I’ll trust you on that.”

“We’re glad you’re back, Doctor,” Daisy sighed, “It was a worrying twelve hours.”

“Yeah, same,” Doc said, rubbing his eyes, “Pro tip: don’t go to the Zone of Alienation.”

Peter looked outside thoughtfully. “And what do you think’ll happen to Laela?”

Doc shrugged. “I think she just needs some time. But… at the end there… we were almost like friends. That would’ve been nice.”

“Do you think we’ll see her again?”

Doc squinted slightly, then looked into the middle-distance thoughtfully. “Mm.”

***

Later that night, Doc lay awake in his bed. The moonlight pooled through his window and rested on his floor. Something about the dust that floated in the air made Doc think of a fluffy dog sitting there.

Something about the night made him think about Laela.

Doc remembered a conversation he had with his mother.

”Your compassion will kill you one day. You spread your arms too wide and often. Be wary of those who don’t necessarily want to embrace you back.”

Doc wondered if Laela didn’t want his compassion in the end. Perhaps not everybody wants to be helped. Was it even within his rights to help people who didn’t want it? Was he even able to help people?

A bullet cracked through Doc’s window, followed by a loud bang. He ducked slightly as the glass shattered and fell around him. He was shirtless, but he managed to slip away from the broken glass unscathed.

“What the hell…?”

Doc took cover. He grabbed one of the pieces of glass and used it as a mirror to see who was shooting at him.

Instead, he saw a piece of paper taped to a tree.

It read, “I’m a better sniper than I am in close combat anyway.”

Doc grinned wide. Sometimes, on a good day, compassion wins, and you do get to help people.

“Ugh, didn’t have to break my window about it…” Doc muttered as he started picking up the shards of glass around his room.