Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The corridors of the Orokin Tower were lit with eerie, golden radiance, their ornate surfaces of ivory and radiant gold—once the embodiment of Orokin supremacy and hubris— were now fractured, soot-stained, and etched with the scars of a recent battle. Smoke curled lazily through the air like flying serpents, and the once-immaculate marble floors were littered with broken bodies, shattered drones, and pools of still-warm blood.

The grand halls, once echoing with hymns extolling the divine grace of the golden lords, now rang with screams, gunfire, and death as a tenno in the form of Excalibur Umbra, carved a path through the defenders of the tower, the Corrupted.

They were an amalgamation of different members of the Origin Systems many factions who had foolishly ventured into these halls without proper protection and had their minds and bodies twisted into slaves by the Orokin Neural Sentry.

Blazing through corridor after corridor with inhuman grace and speed, Umbra struck down all who found themselves in his path. Whether Corpus or Grineer, Infested or machine, no enemy was spared. 

Each encounter was swift and brutal. Some enemies barely turned before the warframes blade and gun silenced them. Others were more aware, reacting in time to fight back, some even wounded him—only to be annihilated moments later by the torrent of fire from its Ignis Wraith. But their stealth elimination of the enemie did not last long, the Sentry was onto them.

The Neural Sentry's alert blared across the tower, informing everyone of its pawns of the location of the intruder. A rush of Corrupted soldiers poured into the grand hall, their movements controlled and fluid, the will of the Sentry demanding unity and uniformity in all things as they scrambled up sweeping golden staircases, stepping over charred remains of fallen comrades without care to reach the high balcony overlooking the warzone. 

The Corpus elite, equipped with precision energy weapons and exo-suits, took position there, aiming their weapons down at the warframe below. 

Meanwhile, from a different entrance, a wave of Corrupted soldiers charged into the chamber. They consisted mostly of Grineer but had an Infested healer paired with a corpus shield drone. They moved in a reckless charge towards the warframe as the Corpus took their shots at Umbra. 
Dodging the lasers and plasma with a roll, Umbra turned to the Grineer and leveled his Ignis Wraith to begin immolating them with a roaring torrent of black fire. The weapons heat caused the bodies of the Grineer to writhe in agony before bursting into ash.

More plasma bolts rained down from above, targeting the warframe during the pause. But Umbra's left arm moved in a blur—his Nikana flashed into his hand. Gold and obsidian steel met energy fire with sharp clangs. Deflected shots redirected into the surviving Grineer, slicing through what the flames had missed.

One round punched through a shielding drone, cracking its casing. The machine burst apart in a flash of white, just as the Ancient Healer pulsed with green light. A wave of energy washed over its forces, healing their burned, broken bodies. Scorched flesh peeled away for fresh skin. Burned off limbs regrew. Armor reformed. Some still burned, but the healing dulled the pain enough to let them continue fighting.

Umbra idly deflected more fire from the Corpus on the balcony, sending a few shots back. Most hit shields or cover. But they’re annoying cover fire wasn't his focus.

The healed Corrupted were. 

In a flash, the warframe summoned his exalted blade and dashed forward, weaving between corrupted like a whirlwind of death as his energy blade carved through flesh and gold gilded armor alike. 

When he had gotten close to the Ancient Healer, he parried its sloppy swing and in retaliation, bisected it from hip to shoulder. It let out a gurgling shriek as its body collapsed to the floor. It was still not dead, so before it could regenerate, Umbra leapt into the air with a bullet jump and drew his Ignis.
Black flame surged as the Ancient screamed again before being disintegrated into cinders.

Shots followed from the balcony, catching Umbra in mid-air. His shields flared blue under the impact, absorbing the damage without breaking. He turned his head and saw them reloading.

Still hovering, he swept the Ignis toward them. Screams echoed as fire consumed the balcony, leaving nothing but ashes of the Corpus on it. 
Landing on the ground in a crouch among the bodies of the fallen, Umbra stood up tall and unbowed by the meager forces of the tower. .

“Well that's this sector cleared out.” The operator within spoke as he surveyed the charred and broken remains surrounding them. The warframe did not show any outward signs of a conversation happening, but in the mindscape of transference a feeling of agreement came.  “All that's left is to find some more argon crystals.”

Ordis’ voice crackled through the comms, laced with static. "Operator! My scanners have picked up signs of a Void storm forming nearby and it's -FUCKING HUGE- quite powerful!"

The Operator nearly dismissed it to continue the extermination mission. This orokin tower was in pristine condition according to the Tenno network, the Void shields would hold through the storm and the Orbiter should be more than capable of riding out the storm or leaving it range entirely until he needed extraction.

 But then, another voice spoke. Calm, yet urgent and filled with motherly love and worry in equal measure. The Lotus. “My child, you must evacuate the tower immediately. I sense Him. I hear the knocking on the wall."

A shiver ran through both Warframe and operator at the warning. They both knew what that meant, The Man in the Wall was coming. That thing had been silent after Drifter disrupted its machinations in Höllvania. What was it here for now? Them?

The tower shook and if not for a warframes unique ability to stand steady on nearly any surface, Umbra might have stumbled.

“Operator, you need to hurry. The shock nearly knocked out the tower's void shields and it's only getting stronger!” Ordis shouted into the communications. 

“We’re on our way Ordis. Thanks for the warning Lotus,” The tenno replied. That was easier said than done though. Even if the storm was the bigger problem, this place was crawling with corrupted and they couldn't exactly stealth their way out and move at max speed at the same time. 

The operator prepared to simply make a wild dash for the exit when through their bond, Umbra reminded them of a tactic they had used only a handful of times before. The Dax turned frame would stay behind and draw attention of the corrupted to him while the Operator made for extraction alone. There was no argument after the plan was given, no second thoughts or discussions of what if’s, only understanding.

With a shimmer of void energy, the Operator dashed out of Umbra’s body, becoming an invisible and intangible specter. The momentary disconnection did nothing to slow Umbra, who let out a guttural, inhuman howl as corrupted began pouring into the room. Electricity arced of his form as the ability blinded and stunned the new wave of enemies, allowing Umbra to begin the massacre at an advantage.

The Operator did not look back, they warped through the tower from one place to another, void-dashing past Corrupted, weaving between and through collapsing walls, shattered bridges and automatic doors that either did not sense the Tenno was there because of void mode or were too damaged to open.  

Far behind them, Umbra was a force of nature, drawing every eye to him as he massacred the tower's inhabitants. When the Operator reached the extraction point, they reached through the transference link connecting them to Umbra. The connection flared, and in an instant, Umbra vanished from the battlefield on the other side of the tower and materialized on them.

The Operator had already transferred back into him so it was a simple matter for Umbra to magnetize to the belly of the waiting Liset Landing Craft. The second they were aboard, the ship broke off and the tower shuddered again, broke apart, and collapsed into nothingness.

“Ordis, punch it!” The operator ordered in slight panic. If that happened to the tower with its powerful void shields, it was a miracle the landing craft was intact. 
I

n response, the Liset flew fast and away from the eye of the ever growing void storm. Waiting for them at the edge of the storm was the Orbiter. It’s bulk still as a mountain despite the storm raging near it, allowing for a rapid docking sequence. With everyone on board, Ordis wasted no time pouring power into the engine and taking off at near light speed to the nearest Solar Rail.

Abroad, the operator breathed a sigh of relief, everything was going to be fine. Even though the storm kept growing in range and intensity, gaining on them until it was shaking the Orbiter like a boat in a sea storm, they maintained a constant high speed away from it. The operator even helped Ordis out by using transference on the ship and pouring his own power into the void shields to stave off any damage.

Then, like the Lotus had foretold, It came.

This time, not as the eerily grinning doppelgänger but as something far more disturbing. In the storm’s heart, the unknowable appeared, a mysterious, indifferent entity tied to the Void.

Humanoid, eyeless, with four arms and legs embedded in a white wall. Its head was a half missing thing that resembled a human man. But what made it so unnerving and inhuman to the Operator was the smile. An expression that should have been used to put people at ease was somehow twisted into a wide, creepy, malevolent thing that made fear shiver down their spine. Atop its head, the familiar doppelgänger perched, laughing. The sound pierced through the Void storm to reach their ears.

It moved, no, the void shifted.

Distance became nothing. Time became nothing. All of the universe's laws as mere mortals understood them ceased to exist as the void entity manipulated its domain to suit its desire. 

One moment it was behind them and the next they were flying into its grinning black maw.

Ordis tried to evade, to stop, but the Void surged and they were plunged into the abyss.

The Operator tumbled from the Transference Pod, landing hard on the cold deck of the Orbiter. The jarring disconnection left their senses reeling—vision blurred, limbs momentarily numb, the distinct ache of a transference stream overload burning behind their eyes.

A shadow moved toward them.

Umbra.

The last memory they had with him placed him near the Navigation console—how much time had passed?

Now, he knelt beside them, offering a steadying hand. The Operator reached up, gripping Umbra’s thick, armored wrist. The transference stream flared briefly, then settled, their pain dulling as Umbra instinctively shared the burden through the link.

The Operator gritted their teeth. “ Thanks Umbra. Ordis… report.”

There was static, a glitching burst of sound, before the Cephalon’s voice resolved into coherence.

“Operator, Ordis is so glad you're okay! We are still within the Void. However, I’ve lost contact with the Lotus. I am unable to reach any Tenno relays, Cy, Syndicates, or even external data nodes. The only thing i'm detecting is… an anomaly. A breach within the Void wall.”

“A tear?” the Operator asked, steadying themselves as they rose to one knee.

“Correct. A small rupture, large enough to admit a Landing Craft, but not the Orbiter. Ordis would strongly advise against approaching it, given our recent—TRAUMA—experience.”

The Operator exhaled through their nose. “Scan it Ordis, maybe it's our way out of here.”

There was a brief pause. One second. Two. Five.

Far too long for Ordis. The Cephalon could scan and render an entire planetary biosignature in a blink. The hesitation wasn’t due to malfunction—it was shock.
Finally, Ordis spoke, quieter now.

“Im detecting signals Operator… ancient signals. Far older than even the early Orokin. And this may sound unbelievable but on the other side of the breach is a planetary body that predates terraforming—it appears to be… Lua. Pre-construction. Uncolonized.”

The Operator’s stomach dropped. “So it’s not the Origin System?”

“I do not believe so,” Ordis replied. “Or at least, not our Origin System.”

The Operator clenched their jaw. ‘Dammit.’

It would be a lie to say they were surprised, not after everything they’ve been through and The Man in the Wall’s personal hand in transporting them here. But why now? Why this place? Did he need them out of the way to do something? 

All good questions but none of which they could answer. Besides, now wasn’t the time to dwell. With all lines of communication to the origin system severed, one possibility remained: Drifter. 

The link between them still existed, the Operator could feel it and unless a far more substantial amount of time had passed since they were sent here, Drifter should still be in Höllvania and so could contact the Lotus.

So if anyone could reestablish contact with the origin system for them—it was him.

The Operator moved to the center of the chamber and sank into a meditative position. Fingers to the deck, head bowed, they reached inward—through the bond and into that intangible corridor that linked their split selves across timelines and experiences.

The connection latched and the Operators consciousness surged through the Void—through time, space, and memory.

Through the Drifter’s eyes, they saw…

Aoi? Her eyes closed. Lips puckered. Leaning in.

The Operator recoiled violently, tearing themselves from the link. Their stomach turned with instinctual disgust. “NOPE. Not dealing with that today.”
Umbra stirred behind them. Though he did not speak, the amusement was unmistakable through transference—warm, teasing.
The Operator groaned, rubbing their face. “Not a word.”

The Warframe’s mirth only deepened.

So with no way to contact anyone in the Origin System that didn’t involve witnessing their other timeline self getting busy, the Operator turned their attention to the anomaly. Despite the excuse used, it wasn’t just the awkward glimpse of Aoi that pushed them into action. 

They realized if the Lotus could track them wherever they ended up, she would have sent his siblings with Cephalon Cy to their location immediately after losing contact. And considering the railjacks FTL  void travel capabilities, it should have been here within minutes of their disappearance. All this combined meant that even if they contacted Drifter and he informed the Lotus of his status, actually finding their way home would mostly have to rely on himself.

And currently, the anomaly was their only lead. Not just to return to the Origin System, but to understand why the Man in the Wall had sent them here, and what it wanted. The tear in the Void wasn’t a natural phenomenon, no break in the wall of Lohk was. 

So it was likely bait put here by it, waiting for the Operator to nudge the snare, and he would, but he wouldn’t go recklessly. Not without a plan and not with Umbra. The thought of taking him into the unknown twisted a knot of unease in the Operator’s gut. Umbra wasn’t like most Warframes. He wasn’t just a biological machine, having maintained a sense of self after his transformation into a warframe. Even if rebuilding him was possible because of his Oro they didn't want to risk stranding him on the other side if the tear closed suddenly.

Umbra, having sensed his thoughts, made his disagreement known immediately through their link. He loomed at their side, posture rigid with defiance. But he didn’t argue. He understood, even if he didn’t like it, that the Operators mind was made up and he would not be coming with him.They shared a final glance. Then the Operator turned toward the transference pod.

“Ordis,” they called, voice sharpening with command. “I’m going out there. Open the Arsenal.”

“Operator,” Ordis fretted, “Are you certain this is the wisest course of action? We should wait for contact! Or at least further analysis. Entering a dimensional rupture made by THAT THING. It could be dangerous!”

“Noted. But there is nothing else to do even if we reestablish contact right now. We’re lost in an unknown section of the Void and our only way out is a portal to the past. They can't exactly send a tow ship out here.” The Operator explained. “It’s better to go out and investigate the other side so when we do establish contact we have useful intel about our situation.”

A few more protests, a handful of glitched syllables, and Ordis finally relented when the words “please” left their mouth. The cephalon adored its operator too much not to give in after that. 

The transference pod flickered to life, bathing the chamber in pale light as the Operator stepped back into it. The neural link flared. Awareness folded inward, into that familiar stream of transference—mind reaching out into the ship’s systems, the Arsenal interface blooming into view before them.

Loki Prime was their choice—stealthy, agile, deadly. No weapons loaded yet. The plan was to transfer Umbra’s loadout over to Loki. 

They initiated the transfer…

And found themselves in Atlas Prime.

“…This is not Loki,” the Operator muttered while moving the new, yet familiar body.  “Ordis?”

The Cephalon's response was riddled with static. “Ordis could have sworn… Apologies, Operator. Trying again.”

Another transfer. Ivara Prime.

 Another. Excalibur Prime.

Only these three would appear no matter which frame he tried to use unless he selected them specifically.
Frustration bubbled. The Arsenal was glitched—no, compromised. Only certain Warframes and weapons would manifest, as if the Man in the Wall were playing curator.

Thankfully, mods, gears, and companions were still fully available to choose from.

The Operator growled under their breath, cursing the presence they knew was responsible. “Bastard.”

Eventually, they settled on Ivara Prime. Stealth would be their ally in exploring the unknown, and they ensured they were adequately armed: Burston Prime (Incarnon), a Lex Prime pistol, and Hate, the Stalkers signature scythe. He also brought along his Helios Sentinel for scanning and analysis. Not exactly an ideal line up for a stealth mission, but it would suffice.

Fully equipped, they walked to the entrance to the Landing Craft. Umbra accompanied them before stopping at the entrance.. The Operator knew he would return to the Transference Pod once they departed—a habit he adopted after the second Stalker intrusion.

A faint smirk touched the Operator's features, their voice carrying the expression. "Hold down the ship for me."

Umbra offered a silent nod, a gesture of trust and understanding. With that, Ivara ascended the ramp to Navigation, the hatch sealing shut behind them. The internal systems of the Landing Craft engaged but only Navigation was working. Alone now, in the hush of the pilot chamber, the Operator let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.
They stared into the anomaly, now visible through the window of the liset. Through this rift, the Operator could see a celestial body bathed in pale light—a moon, unscarred and whole. Unlike the fragmented Lua they knew, this version bore no signs of Orokin terraforming or the ravages of the Old War. 

Seeing it in person confirmed that whatever lay beyond, was not the Origin System. But diving into the unknown, the eldritch, and the dangerous was not something alien to a Tenno.

And so, they launched.

 

Chapter Text

The Void shimmered behind them, an unseen wound in reality, as the Landing Craft slowly emerged into orbit beyond the moon. Silence reigned but for the soft hum of systems adjusting to realspace. The Operator sat still and ready for anything in the body of Ivara Prime, the frame's senses expanding as their gaze fell upon the gray face of Lua, or just the moon as it was not the Orokin capital yet.

"Ordis, scan the surface of the moon. Anything unusual?" The Operator commanded. He figured scans would yield more promising results now that they were outside the Void.

The Cephalon's voice responded immediately, all traces of glitching gone. "Operator, detecting an irregular structure on the far side of the moon. Temperature residuals suggest long-term abandonment. Structure is incomplete. There are significant structural breaches—exposed segments to vacuum. Material composition is not consistent with suspected construction capabilities for this civilization's current technological era. Additionally, trace evidence suggests this was intended to be a self-contained biosphere. Strange."

"Thanks Ordis. Looks like we have our first clue. Bring us there." The Tenno responded, but internally their mind thought more on the subject, the questions piling on. 'What is humanity doing with such advanced alloys and a moon biosphere this far in the past and why is it abandoned?'

A biosphere, even in the Origin System, was not something to scoff at price wise. Not to say it was some long lost Orokin technology you could only hope to recover with the help of the void trader himself, but it was expensive to own one. Only the rich like the corpus elite and the Orokin could afford it. So for one this far in the past to just be abandoned spoke only ill omens to the Tenno.

Cloaking the ship, they maneuvered around the moon's curve, bringing the derelict facility into view within a minute. What greeted them was interesting: half-built domes and modular corridors scattered across the regolith like ribs. Wide gouges marked the surface, but no heat scarring, no impact craters, no known weapon signatures.

"Interesting, no obvious signs of a battle. So why was it abandoned?" the Operator murmured to himself. "Bring us in Ordis, I want to investigate further."

Ordis complied, slowing to a hover near a section of the ruined installation.

"Operator, the facility itself appears entirely without life support. Estimated operational time before recall required: twenty minutes."

"Understood. Keep the ship cloaked. I'll be in and out in quick."

After going through the Tenno's standard ejection, Ivara Prime dropped from the underbelly of the Landing Craft, diving silently down in zero gravity with the grace of a swan before righting herself at the last moment. The frame's feet touched the lunar dust without a sound. The Operator moved fast toward an opening in the derelict, not even bothering to cloak, as Helios twisted and turned at their side to analyze everything.

Inside the destroyed facility, crates were half-open, tools left mid-use. Advanced drones, seemingly used to help construct the base, sat dead beside support beams. Cables trailed into nowhere. There were hydroponic trays scattered in an organized grid, now filled only with frozen gray dust. Transparent wall sections meant to simulate sunlight lay shattered, broken from exposure to the elements and time.

But there were no bodies, no defensive turrets, not even a sign of a broadcast attempt to whoever owned this place about their intrusion. Just silence and lunar dust.

So the Operator kept exploring until Ivara Prime's optics caught sight of a terminal, long dead, buried in dust but seemingly intact enough due to being made of the same advanced alloy as the base. He approached, pulling out the Parazon and jacking it into the computer. Power surged, computer lights buzzing weakly to life as the Operator fed it with the warframe's own energy. The screen didn't work but that wasn't necessary when they could just extract the raw data.

"Ordis, I found a terminal, pulling data now."

The Parazon easily bypassed any security like it wasnt there, found, and accessed the data. Most of it was too corrupted to make any sense of, except for a single entry dating back a little over a decade:

Automated tracking system online. External anomaly detected. Gravitational distortion registering off the far side. Source unknown. Possibly a meteoroid—adjusting orbital sensors.

Then nothing. Cut off mid-entry before the computer could identify it.

"That's it?" the Operator muttered. "No alert protocols, no warnings, no confirmation on what appeared."

"Operator, the system terminated just minutes after this entry, and all other previous entries are too corrupted for even Ordis to recover."

"Not even emergency evacuation records?"

"Negative. Ordis doubts human crew members were ever used directly in the construction of the facility. I can detect no staff quarters or other signs of previous human habitation."

The Operator's gaze wandered upward, through the cracked dome. Stars stared back, twinkling like ayatans as his mind put together what might have happened here bit by bit.

Years ago, somewhere beyond that curve of the moon, something had appeared. What it was is currently unknown but given that no one had continued construction of the base after its appearance, it was safe to assume it was not a meteoroid. The alloy used in construction of the base should have been more than enough to stop any meteor that wouldn't outright destroy the place wholesale. Since the structural damage seemed to come from a combination of a lack of maintenance on the facility, exposure to the elements, and the occasional meteorite that might have hit it. Whatever appeared, hadn't attacked the place, just scared the people who constructed it away, for some also unknown reason.

"I don't like this," the Operator said, running a hand across the dust-laced surface of the console. "The mysteries keep piling on."

"I concur Operator," The Cephalong chimed in, voice low and slightly nervous. "Ordis has a bad feeling about what we will find when we reach earth."

The mention of Earth made Ivara look around the chamber again, optics taking in every detail once more. Even in ruin, and without being the greatest student of the history of the Earth of the Origin System, the Tenno could tell the architecture was made with design philosophies that didn't align with what he and Ordis suspected any current Earth-bound faction would or could use.

If not for the lack of gold and white, the Operator would have suspected it was early Orokin. Maybe precursor technology to them, but that was impossible.The suspected time period was nowhere close to the Lith Era. So what was going on in this timeline as to why technology had advanced so rapidly? Visitors from the Origin System maybe? Aliens? Or could this possibly be one of the many machinations of the Man In the Wall?

A dull pulse from their HUD reminded them of the time. Life support readouts blinking yellow. "Life support is approaching critical levels. Ordis recommends immediate extraction."

The Operator gave the empty room one last look before bullet-jumping up and through the hole in the roof, Helios floating close beside them. The moon's low gravity ensured they were carried further up and toward the cloaked ship they knew was hovering above them.

As they magnetized to the bottom of the Liset and reentered the ship, the Operator felt the faint pull of urgency deep in their bones. Not fear—never fear—but instinct sharpened to a fine edge after centuries of battles.

For a moonbase this far in the past to remain abandoned and incomplete after all these years must mean that whatever was responsible for its abandonment was still out there. But regardless of what it was, if it came after them, it would not find a Tenno wanting.

"Ordis," the Operator said, slipping back into the lotus position at navigation. "Set course for Earth. This place is a bust. Whatever's here won't answer our questions on how to get home."

Following his command, Ordis rotated the Liset on silent thrusters, angling smoothly downward toward the curve of Earth. A moment of stillness passed as the engines powered up to the max. Igniting, the craft disappeared into deep space in a burst of speed.

Chapter Text

The space between Lua and the Earth was quiet—an open corridor of cosmic silence divided by the distance and time. The Liset flew through it like a ghost, its systems humming softly as Ordis brought the ship to a slow halt. The Operator sat still at navigation, legs folded under them in a loose lotus, gaze fixed on the swelling blue planet ahead.

"We are nearing optimal observation range," Ordis chirped, voice carrying a lightness as he looked upon the blue planet, no longer feeling the eerie nervousness after some time away from the moonbase. "Earth. No Grineer Galleons polluting the sky. No Narmer. Just... the planet as it once was." A soft, wistful pause. "Their ugly ships always ruined the view before."

The Operator chuckled in agreement with his ship Cephalon. "You're right. It's almost... peaceful here."

They drifted closer and halted just outside of geostationary orbit. Earth spun slowly beneath them, its oceans calm, clouds winding in slow spirals over jagged continents. Helios hovered nearby, already humming with anticipation at the many scans it would be able to catalog.

Out of all the times the Tenno had seen earth from its orbit, this would be his favorite simply from the fact that earth looked so…free.

Free of the Grineer and their poisoning of the land, free of the ravages of the Orokin in their unending pursuit of power, free of the Technocytes taint, and free of Narmer, the annoying reminder that he had failed to stop Ballas sooner.

Sure, this Earth probably had troubles of its own given what had sent him here and the discoveries made on the moon, but a Tenno could dream.

"Begin planetary scan," the Operator ordered Ordis after a while. "I want a rough picture of the state of this world."

"Of course Operator! Initiating full-sphere scan. Running deep-surface sweeps, low-frequency communications mapping, and satellite piggybacking. This will take a moment."

The ship’s displays lit up, multiple data layers unfolding as Ordis built a composite of Earth’s current condition. The globe pulsed with flickering signals—hotspots of strange energy, erratic broadcasts, and concentrated human infrastructure. Dozens of photos began compiling alongside each region of data—cities, remote outposts, scarred wastelands, and pristine stretches of untouched land.

"Parsing results… and done," Ordis said after a pause. "Operator, it is as I thought, this Earth appears to be in the ancient twenty-first century. Current date, February twenty five of the year two thousand and eleven.”

Information regarding the calendar of this time popped up briefly, showing it wasn’t all that different from what the people of Cetus used.

“Unlike the Earth of the Origin system, this one is densely populated and highly active. Technologically, it is primitive compared to Orokin standards. Yet, there are isolated pockets of advanced technology far beyond what their baseline science should produce."

As Ordis spoke, relevant information was displayed and shuffled on the screen.

"Local breakthroughs or…gifted knowledge?" The Operator asked as Ivara Prime’s head twisted and turned, taking in all the information on display. They were trying to find any link between this world and the origin system.

"Hard to be certain but Ordis does not think that is the case.” The cephalon replied while skimming through more data. “Their advanced pockets of technology barely match any known Origin System designs and most advancements are the result of Parahuman technology or reverse engineering it."

"The Parahumans." The Tenno had spotted the term in a few documents and feeds on the display. “They're humans with unnatural abilities, right?”

"Correct. Over six hundred and fifty thousand known individuals exhibit anomalous traits—most gained them suddenly and under extreme duress from what Ordis can observe. Powers range widely: physical augmentation, elemental control, energy manipulation, and even time-space disruptions. A category labeled as Tinkers possesses the individuals responsible for the technology gap."

The Operator's eyes widened as he focused on the information regarding how these people gained power. The way these Parahumans gained abilities sounded faintly similar to how the children of the Zariman had gained theirs. Were these Parahumans some form of Tenno? Had someone, just like him, been desperate enough to make a deal with the Man In the Wall, and as a result, brung about the rise of Parahumans?

”Ordis, scan for Void influence."

"I already have Operator, I even checked for Tau energy. There is none. Whatever empowers them, it is not the Void or any known source of power. It's most likely an independent force native to this world."

"That's… good," the Operator said, his voice low, touched with an emotion even he couldn’t quite name. There was something uncomfortable in the realization that he was the only Tenno in this universe.

That for the first time in his life, he was truly alone. A different universe, a different even if similar system. No siblings and no Lotus. Was this what the Drifter had felt, wandering the Zariman alone for years? Was this how Rell had felt, long before Red Veil took him in?

Ordis, sensing his Operator's mood taking a turn for the worse, refocused him by bringing up another section of data.

"Operator look, I've discovered that several organizations exist to either support or exploit parahumans. The most prominent is the Protectorate, a government-backed team of powered law enforcement who operate alongside another government agency called the Parahuman Response Team. Together, they act as a peacekeeping force across North America and occasionally elsewhere. There are similar groups like the Guild that cooperate with them, but not all actors are aligned. Vigilantes, rogues, criminals—many operate outside the system. It’s a chaotic, unstable ecosystem.”

The Operator’s eyes narrowed slightly as a question popped up into his mind, which he voiced. “How is this world still standing? Its countries are divided and there are hundreds of thousands of enhanced trauma survivors running around either setting fires or trying to put them out.” He let out a breathy sound that would have been a whistle if the warframe had lips. “It’s honestly impressive civilization hasn’t collapsed yet.”

There was no sarcasm in his tone, just the kind of respect only someone who’d seen and done worse could give.

“There are regions around the world that have already collapsed into lawless ruin. But yes, Operator. It is impressive—given the odds.” Ordis replied in his own somewhat impressed tone.

There was a slight pause before Ordis continued speaking, slightly changing the subject to something he viewed as important. “Operator, out of all the parahumans I have glimpsed there is one individual of particularly high interest. A figure called Scion. Also referred to as, the Golden Man.”

A new video flickered to life—a golden figure, radiant, descending from the sky in a blur. He intercepted a collapsing bridge, raised a sunken ship, vaporized debris with focused energy. A montage of his activity compiled itself beside his profile.

"Scion is the first recorded parahuman. Active worldwide. He responds to disasters without fail, without visible rest, without communication. His abilities include flight, gravitational manipulation, energy discharge, and matter restoration."

The Operator leaned in, brow furrowed in the transference pod as they viewed more info on the golden man. His list of abilities was impressive, even to a Tenno, and powerful enough to match one if the known feats were anything to go by. Could he be the help they need to get home?

“Any known contacts?" The operator asked. The golden man seemed to like his solitude so finding someone to indirectly contact him in case he needed to speak to him would be more respectful than chasing him down with the Liset.

"No known communication after his initial appearance. And no affiliations. He operates alone." Ordis replied, which disappointed the Tenno.

The Operator watched a freeze-frame of Scion hovering over the ocean, gold light radiating off his form in a way that sparked unpleasant half remembered memories of the Orokin. An unfair comparison but there was something off about Scion. Something that rubbed the Operator the wrong way.

"He's too…inhuman.” The Operator finally said after some deliberation. ”I’d even say alien if he wasn't more similar to a corpus drone than any living being I've encountered."

Scion looked human but the fact was he didnt act it. Even the Tenno, void touched as they were, acted more human than him. They had interests that went beyond their duty to the origin system. Family, friends, pets, fashion frame, FLOOFS! Yet this Scion didn't do anything but save people and didn't have anyone but himself.

"I concur, Operator. The people revere him, but he is... unnatural even among parahumans to the point I am unsure if he is even human."

A silence stretched between them as the new information was taken in. Then Ordis brought up another data stream.

"The next subject of interest are the Endbringers. Entities far beyond parahuman levels, with the exception of Scion, who they actively flee from. They do not live among the people—they emerge only to destroy around once every three months. Each being takes turns to attack, usually in the order they appeared."

Three icons blinked across the hologram, glowing red and displaying information and images on the Endbringers. As Ordis kept talking the operator went back to wondering how this world still had civilization left in it.

"Behemoth is a subterranean one-eyed radioactive humanoid monster. Currently dormant near the Earth’s core. His presence disturbs tectonic fields even in rest. Leviathan is a bi-pedal lizard-like hydrokinetic monster currently located in an ocean trench, latitude and longitude mapped. Simurgh: a most elusive winged humanoid capable of mind control, mimicking parahuman technology and… precognition? Last known appearance in Canberra, Australia. Eighteen hours ago she attacked the city but was driven off. Since then it has had no sightings."

The Operator frowned. "And no indication where she went?"

“Well she is known to station herself in earth's…” Ordis paused as he immediately sent out a quick scan of earth's orbit that came back near instantly. "It’s… near."

The Operator leaned forward, searching the globe for the third Endbringer indicator. "Near? Where?"

"Orbit. A geostationary position. Directly across from us. Adjusting angle." The Liset turned, drifting in a slow arc. The stars shifted and There she was.

A fifteen feet tall, waif-thin, alabaster-skinned woman with cold silver eyes and hair like trailing silk. Her form was humanlike but unnaturally flawless, too beautiful one could say. If not for the fact she was wrapped in great, asymmetrical wings that shifted like silent curtains around her nude body, one could be forgiven for thinking she was just an immaculate statue. But she was not, the Simurgh was alive and looking at them. Not directly but with an eerie exactness.

"She sees us," the Operator whispered unnecessarily due to the tense atmosphere. They weren't even conversing out loud with Ordis.

"Impossible. Cloaking is intact." Ordis replied, his voice steady and sure.

The Operator’s Ivara stared back at the false angel and the Simurgh didn't move. No motion. No aggression. Just… watching. They wanted to believe Ordis but couldn't. There was nothing interesting around this sector of space until they stationed the Liset here. And unless both the Tenno and Ordis somehow missed the giant naked woman looking at them the entire time, the operator was sure the monster came here because of them.

"Move us," the Operator ordered. They were sure that in some capacity the endbringer could see them, but Ordis could also be right and that warranted testing. "Slowly. I want to see if she tracks."

Ordis obeyed. The Liset crept sideways in vacuum. A meter. Two.

That was as far as they went before a telekinetic wave slammed into the ship’s side. Alarms blared. The Liset spiraled, gyroscopic stabilizers whirring wildly.

"Stabilizing!" Ordis announced as he did just that. “Apologies Operator, it appears you were right!”

The Operator stood up, inertial dampeners and artificial gravity allowing them to move easily despite the spinning. He took Burston Prime in hand out of habit from missions. "That’s not important right now. Let's retreat, I don't want to fight this world's version of an Eidolon in an Ivara frame."

"Affirmative, adjusting trajectory and getting us out of here!" The ship righted itself from its spin, turning towards earth.

"No. Not toward the planet Ordis. If she follows we could be endangering innocent lives. Take us outward. Deep space."

"Understood Operator," The Liset turned once more and began flying away from Earth’s silhouette, but before Ordis could accelerate to full speed and lose her easily, another invisible attack clipped one of the main rear thrusters.

"Port engine compromised!" Ordis informed in slight panic as he barely kept the ship from spinning out of control again.

"New plan then," the Operator said, gripping the gun tighter. "Stay close to Earth while we try to lose her. We might need a crash vector if things go bad.”

They didn’t want to bring any trouble to the inhabitants of this world, at least more trouble than necessary, but they also couldn't let the landing craft be lost to deep space if it was damaged or destroyed in this chase. If it floated too far before it could be recovered then it would be a major loss of resources the operator couldn't afford when cut off from the origin system.

As the damaged Liset flew away from their pursuer at a reduced speed, the Simurgh followed. Graceful yet relentless despite being too slow to close the distance meaningfully. That didn't stop her from sending more telekinetic blasts as the chase stretched into minutes.

Some missed completely, as if she was aiming at where she thought they’d be instead of where they actually were. Others got close enough to jolt or hit the ship but Ordis was ready for it and so always adjusted before the ship would lose control.

Then unexpectedly, Helios pinged the coms.

"Operator, Helios has used the ship's sensors to analyze her energy.” Ordis informed with glee. “I can see her attacks now!"

Ordis wasn't truly seeing them, it was more like detecting them as if they were missiles on radar but the difference hardly mattered when the results were the same.

The ship cephalon began dodging more effectively, weaving through telekinetic blasts like a needle through cloth despite the Lisets damaged truster. The Simurgh kept chasing and attacking but it seemed she finally realized her attacks weren’t even landing anymore, and that at this rate she would lose them.

Suddenly, pieces of nearby technology started flying apart. Derelict satellites, the remnants of Cold War technology, and modern communication arrays— all rose around her in synchrony. Pieces came apart. Frames unwound. Circuits aligned. The Simurgh was building something mid-chase, pulling parts together in a halo of debris that was rapidly assembling into something different and more advanced than the individual parts could possibly hope to achieve normally.

"She's making something Ordis," the Operator said as he tracked Helio’s scans closely. "Parahuman technology I think. Helios is barely making heads or tales of whatever she’s building."

"We need to stop her!" Ordis declared in a panic. "Parahuman technology is widely varied, generally destructive, and unstable. There's no telling what she could do to the Liset if she completes it."

A beat of silence passed as the Tenno thought and the Liset twisted and turned, dodging more of her attacks and satellites in their path that began floating towards the Simurgh.

After a mere moment of thinking they decided their next course of action. "Get the Archwing ready Ordis."

"Operator, if you go out there, you’ll be blind to her attacks and if she hits you even once, you could lose your warframe.”

He was right, the Tenno realized. The archwing was their first thought due to its familiarity in these kinds of situations but trying to fight that thing with it would be foolish, especially since his current Archwing was built recently and not modded to fight something like this.

The Operator needed a more creative solution and he had just the idea. "Lower the ramp then. I'm going to shoot from here."

Ordis obeyed without question this time, despite his misgivings about this course of action as well. The hatch hissed open as air rushed out the Liset. The Operator walked forward and stood at the edge, magnetized boots anchoring them to the floor and allowing them to ignore the vacuum beyond while the Helios used its own methods to stay by its master's side.

Facing their pursuer, who seemed to be near to completing the tinker tech device, the Tenno wasted no time, putting away their Burston Prime and summoning the Artemis Bow. The exalted weapon shimmered into existence within Ivara Prime’s grasp: sleek, ornate, and lined with golden accents that did little to hide its lethal nature. A hum of power seemed to emanate from the string as warframe energy poured into it.

"Helios, keep analyzing her device. Ordis, try and hold us steady."

There were silent confirmations of their orders as the Tenno raised their bow and drew on the string. Arrows manifested, swirling with fire, cold, electricity, and toxic elemental charge as Ivara’s instincts and the Operator’s skills synced together to determine the most effective angle to deliver their payload.

Once loose, the arrows zipped out in blinding, colorful arcs and then multiplied. Six arrows became dozens as the multishot mod installed on the bow performed its function. The first wave of arrows slammed into the Simurgh and the machine she was constructing. Explosions bloomed like warheads, not just from the arrows but from damage to her constructs.

The Simurgh recoiled, not in pain, but from being forced back. Her expression was placid and calm despite alabaster skin from her face to her hip being almost completely gone. Even as her wings slowly disintegrated from corrosive damage and the rest of her body was either frosted over, on fire, or seeping blood like a river, she never stopped.

"Amazing Operator, you nailed her!" Ordis cheered with glee.

"Wait, I can damage her," the Operator murmured in slight surprise as he began drawing the bow again. He had expected her to be mostly immune to conventional forms of damage like the Eidolons of Cetus but it seemed that comparison was less accurate than he had thought.

More arrows were fired and this time the winged woman tried blasting the arrows with her telekinetic waves before they could reach her, some of them detonating early while others slipped past her guard. Ivara’s ability to control her arrows like they were her own fingers allowed them to move in different and irregular patterns to avoid her defense and land on the parahuman technology she was attempting to build.

This song and dance continued for a short while, more explosions blooming in the sky as they raced across the planet.

In the beginning, It seemed the Simurgh didn't care about the damage to her own body, blocking only as needed to defend her work. But as the battle continued and the elemental effects kept piling on, she started taking getting hit more seriously. She grew more cautious, more deliberate. She even started dodging, altering her flight path, and sacrificing fragments of her tinker tech to shield herself and more vital parts of the construction.

All of this was a positive sign to the Tenno but his situation wasn’t improving much either.

Ivara’s energy reserves were dwindling fast, and soon she wouldn’t have enough to power the Artemis Bow at all. Meanwhile, the Simurgh—despite being reduced to a half-melted, skeletal thing—was still attacking and building in equal measure. The damage to her, while visually devastating, had done little to hinder her mobility or her ability to construct and repair her tinkertech.

Still, the Operator had noticed that despite her endurance, her body HAD reacted to the elemental effects and she had decided it was best to avoid most of his attacks rather than let her body tank the damage. And that display of weakness gave him an idea.

Right as he was about to test it, the Simurgh reached—grabbing hold of a cluster of shattered satellites drifting ahead of the Liset.

The Operator didn’t even see what she was reaching for but tried to warn Ordis regardless. "Ordis, she's—"

"I see it!” Ordis interrupted. “Brace!"

The Endbringer hurled the mass toward them.

Ordis veered hard, thrusters howling as the Liset twisted violently to avoid the oncoming wreckage. The largest chunk of twisted metal missed by meters, but smaller debris scraped along the hull with a deep, groaning rattle. The jolt was enough to throw Ivara clear of the ship and into open space.

But there was no panic. The Operator had been through too many similar and worse situations to feel such an emotion right now.

So even as the stars and earth spun around him, he acted calmly and with finesse. Ivara’s bow came up, steady in zero-G, and fired a zipline arrow, golden line spooling out behind it as the arrow few and slammed into the Liset's hull just as the Warframe began to drift.

And before the line snapped tight, Ivara’s gauntlet caught it cleanly. Whipping her into a hard arc as momentum dragged her back toward the ship.

Helios, who had followed the warframe out, shimmered and vanished into the warframes subspace before it could be left behind..

Now the Warframe dangled from the Liset with the line, one hand wrapped in the zipline as the Artemis Bow dissolved into energy in the other. With the second hand now free, the Warframe grabbed the line again and began pulling itself back in with full strength, all while Ordis gently swerved and twisted to dodge more incoming telekinetic waves.

"Operator?! Are you alright? Should I slow down?!"

He was already beginning to but his Tenno stopped him.

"No! Keep going! The slower you are, the easier you are to hit!"

The speed and swinging made it harder to climb, but pull in they did. Once enough slack was drawn in, the Operator hooked one boot around the zipline to stabilize themselves. Immediately, the operator realized he couldn’t shoot like this. Letting go meant drifting into space or worse, into her reach, and he didn’t want to find out what the Endbringer would do to his Warframe if caught.

So the Operator held tight and watched—out of the fight, but not useless yet. They considered deploying the Archwing again, but rejected the idea. Ivara had one last ability that might work before they had to risk fighting her directly.

The Simurgh, realizing there was no more immediate retaliation after her recent attacks, resumed her work with increased speed. Broken parts and scrap from the satellites—both pieces blasted away earlier by the Tenno and fresh fragments—floated to her like fish on a line. The machine reformed piece by piece. Plates locked together. Wiring wrapped in coils. Some pieces hovered beside her, waiting to be installed.

It took mere seconds of unmolested assembling for her to finish her tinkertech.  A large black ring device. Barely wider than the Simurgh herself—but the design was unmistakably advanced: a smooth toroid of scorched plating, weathered solar panels, and reworked satellite hulls lashed together with invisible force rather than weld or bolt. It was an ugly thing in detail, but at a distance, there was something graceful about how it all fit.

 

The device wasn’t stable, it sparked, clanked, and whirled in a way that didn't need an engineer to tell you that something was wrong, but it worked. A low, constant shimmer pulsed through the ring’s core, the beam itself invisible until it activated.

 

“Ordis, Get ready…” The Operator began nervously, hoping his decision to hold off on using the archwing wasn’t going to get both the Liset and his warframe destroyed.

When the device finally activated, the space inside seemed to snap inward like water rushing into a drain.The device pulsed, a wide blue beam shone from its center like a cone and covered them, significantly slowing the Liset but not stopping it completely due to its anti-gravity system.

“Operator, she caught us in an artificial gravity well. What do we do now?” Ordis queried with panic as he tried to fly the ship out the range of the device.

However, the beam was wide and the simurgh was tracking their general positions to keep them trapped. And with the Liset slowed down so much, on top of being down an engine, the Endbringer was now gaining on them. Thankfully, it had stopped sending telekinetic waves and was instead focusing on closing the distance between itself and the ship with the ring floating at her side.

Despite the situation, the Operator was not too worried, in fact, he was more relaxed than before. The tinkertech was not some destructive weapon like they had feared and the Endbringer wasn't trying to pummel the ship anymore but capture them for some reason. A mistake, and one the Tenno would capitalize on once he solved the problem of his precarious position being made even worse by the gravity well trying to rip them off the zipline.

“Don’t worry Ordis, just keep flying.” The operator commanded as they surged their warframes power system, temporarily supercharging it and giving Ivara the strength to resist the pull of the gravity beam and further rope her body around the zipline.

When fully secured, the operator once again summoned the exalted bow and aimed unsteadily at the winged humanoid instead of the beam. A single trick arrow materialized in the bow. He only had energy for one more shot after surging their system and they were going to make it count.

“Ordis, when I shoot, move the Liset in the opposite direction of the arrow,” the Operator ordered.

“Understood,” Ordis replied without hesitation. All traces of fear gone now that he knew his Operator had a plan.

Aiming far off to the side of the Simurgh, the Tenno loosed the arrow with no hesitation.

The trick arrow sailed wide, and at the same moment, the Liset pulled hard in the opposite direction. The gravity beam, still locked onto the ship, followed the Liset’s movement—dragging its reach away from the arrow’s flight path. What had looked like a miss suddenly curved back around as the arrow slipped free of the beam’s edge and bent sharply toward its real target.

The Simurgh didn’t move or react. Probably because that "precognition" Ordis mentioned wasn’t as impressive as it sounded, allowing the arrow to strike right between where her eyes had been before the Operator blew her face off.

The effects were immediate and sudden, the ringed tinkertech device that was holding back there speed suddenly began sparking, the tractor beam flickering and dying as its unity began to unravel. Parts held together solely by the Simurghs' telekinesis began breaking apart and falling away.

And without the beam, the pressure lifted, allowing the Liset to surge forward once more. The zipline slacked a bit before pulling taut with a violent jerk that almost dislodged the Operator again, but they held.

Held and watched as the Simurgh began to fall.

She wasn’t flying or moving anymore. Just drifting on raw momentum, spiraling slowly in the void of space like she had drowned. Practically a corpse in motion.

Ordis whooped, voice practically crackling with relief and joy. "A magnificent shot as always Operator!"

Without waiting for orders, the Cephalon snapped the Liset into a sharp turn, thrusters flaring as the ship peeled away from the Simurgh’s drifting trajectory. No more weaving and dodging—this was a full-speed retreat, straight in the opposite direction.

The Operator, still clinging to the zipline with legs twisted and arms braced, let out a breathless huff. Tension bled off their frame as they stared at the now-limp Endbringer shrinking in the distance, chunks of tinkertech still peeling off the device she had so painstakingly tried to build.

He gave a sharp snort. Then, with a distinctly childish, wholly satisfied motion, the Operator let go of the bow, the exalted weapon dissolving again as they raised one hand and flipped her the bird.

“Enjoy your nap, you discount Eidolon freak,” He shouted with external speakers, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

The Tenno knew the sleep arrows' effects wouldn’t last long. Ordis knew it too. Whatever void-dammed madness kept the Simurgh moving would likely reawaken her soon. But by the time she did, they would be long gone.

The Operator didn't even ask to come back aboard so that Ordis wouldn’t have to slow down. They just held on, wrapped tight to the zipline like a stubborn barnacle, letting Ordis haul ass across the planet and towards deep space until he gave new orders.

“Ordis, dive for the planet, we’re not leaving here empty handed.”

Chapter Text

The Operator lay flat against the floor of the Liset, arms sprawled loosely at their sides, the faint hum of the engines a comforting buzz beneath their Warframe. The viewport stretched in front of them like a wide canvas, the clouds below lazily drifting past as Earth's atmosphere slipped beneath their orbit. They weren't tired—technically, they couldn't be—but today had been a DAY even by Tenno standards and it was just the beginning. So they took a moment to appreciate the quiet.

Ordis said nothing, allowing them the silence.Minutes passed in this tranquil lull, the tension bleeding out of the Operator's limbs every second that passed until he finally spoke, voice soft and distant.

"Hey Ordis… I think we found the culprit for that moon biosphere's abandonment."

There was a pause before Ordis answered. "Yes, Operator. I would say that's a very safe assumption."

"She's not following us, right? She should've woken up by now."

Another pause. Then Ordis's voice returned, calm and clear. "Scans confirm she has returned to dormancy in orbit. Her movement has ceased entirely."

A genuine, weary breath of relief escaped the Operator. The Operator had figured she wouldn't follow after her leaving her stomping grounds but confirmation was needed for this sort of thing.

"Good," they murmured, then added, "You did some damn good flying Ordis. I think we might've just been the first Tenno and ship Cephalon to dogfight out of a landing craft. Cy might be jealous when he finds out."

If Ordis could smile, he would have. "Thank you, Operator. Your compliment is greatly appreciated. And I must admit, fighting alongside you like that was exhilarating. Even more so than when we fought Hunhow in the weave to save Cephalon Suda."

The Operator chuckled softly, closing their eyes for just a moment to remember that day clearly "Yeah. Let's not make it a habit, though."

Ordis also chuckled, a sound that somehow carried the tone of an old man waving off excitement he secretly enjoyed. "Agreed, Operator. An old ship Cephalon like me wasn't built to handle this kind of stress. I may need to run a diagnostic on my core before I fragment from the tension."

Before the Operator could respond, a sharp series of beeps and whirrs assaulted their ears as Helios suddenly hovered into view, its sensor arrays flaring and scanning them up and down with almost theatrical urgency.

The Operator laughed louder, unable to help it. "Yeah, yeah. You did good too." They reached out and gently nudged the hovering Sentinel aside, brushing one hand over its long sensor limb. "Thanks for watching our backs buddy."

With a stretch, they sat up cross-legged in their Warframe, settling back into the familiar, poised lotus posture. The moment of rest was over. The mission wasn't.

"Alright, Ordis. Where are we now?"

In answer, the navigation display flickered to life in front of them, projecting a spinning holographic globe. A red dot blinked softly near the eastern edge of the North American continent.

"We are currently above the Atlantic Ocean Operator. Near the east coast of the country known as the United States of America," Ordis confirmed.

The Operator studied the globe for a moment, then nodded. "Find somewhere nearby to land. I want to assess the damage and make whatever repairs we can planetside."

"Understood. Scanning for viable terrain." A brief pause followed, then Ordis continued, "I'm detecting mountainous terrain with rolling hills inland—sparse population, high elevation, adequate cover." Pictures, likely taken from satellites, appeared, giving a visual representation of the area. "Shall I set a course?"

"Sounds perfect," the Operator replied. "Take us in."

The Liset descended swiftly. The clouds parted like curtains as the craft sliced through the atmosphere, the water below rushing up to meet them with breakneck speed. The distance was practically nothing for a ship like the Liset, and within minutes they were gliding low over forested slopes and rugged rock formations.

Ordis brought the ship down toward a wide clearing nestled in the arms of a gentle ridge. Towering trees surrounded the glade like silent guardians, and a sheer cliffside loomed just ahead of them, offering a panoramic view of the landscape stretching to the east.

"We have arrived, Operator," Ordis announced. "No threats detected."

The Operator stood slowly, stretching out their limbs as they walked over to the exit ramp. "Alright, let's see what we're working with."

Ordis, already anticipating the request, opened the ramp with a pneumatic hiss. Cool forest air swept in as the door lowered, revealing the clearing beyond.

Without pause, the Operator jumped out, landing lightly on the forest floor in a crouch. The moment their feet touched down, Ordis eased the Liset backward beneath the overhang of the cliff, nestling the ship into a concealed position. The engines powered down into a passive hover, holding the ship steady just above the earth with minimal energy draw.

From their position on the mossy ground, the Operator stood up and took in the view, Burston Prime in hand and ready for anything. The landscape stretched wide and green, with dense trees trailing off into the distance. Wildlife signals flared briefly across their HUD's map—small mammals, birds, and clusters of insects. Nothing worth attention.

They dismissed the readouts, put their gun on their back, and turned their focus to the Liset. The ship looked battered, no question. Scrapes along the hull. Warps in it from telekinetic blasts. One of the rear thrusters was clearly deformed, its casing warped and plating half-torn.

Helios hovered beside them, sweeping its scanners over the damage. The Operator tilted their head slightly, pulling up the diagnostic overlay from Ordis.

"Looks worse than it is," he muttered. "Thrusters the worst of it. The rest is mostly superficial." A pause as helios pinged them with its own scans. Not exactly necessary but the Tenno wouldn't deny the sentinel its purpose. " And Helios confirms."

The Sentinel chirped, projecting a real-time schematic of the ship. Most of the external damage glowed in dull yellow highlights—cosmetic abrasions, shallow hull impacts, and minor heat scoring. Only the rear right thruster showed red.

Inside the ship, Ordis was already mid-process. "Thank you Helios. Operator, I've finished running full internal diagnostics. Most systems are green. Primary and secondary life support intact. Shield core functioning. Navigation stable. However... cloaking suffered damage. It's possible we were spotted during descent."

The Operator turned their head slightly toward the ship, a subtle flick of attention. "Think it's a problem?"

Ordis hesitated. "Unlikely. The Simurgh disabled a significant number of local observation satellites during our engagement, and given the speed at which we entered the atmosphere, visual tracking would have been near impossible. But... it is within the realm of possibility that someone, somewhere, caught a glimpse. Especially with parahumans involved."

The Operator groaned in slight annoyance. He wanted to remain in the shadows of this world for as long as possible, but after his lightshow in orbit, he knew better than to expect such a luxury. He would make due without complete anonymity.

"Something to worry about later." He raised one hand, summoning the Omni from their Warframe's storage with a flash of energy. The multi-function repair device unfolded in their grip, ready and waiting with plenty of Revolite in store. "Let's get this thruster fixed."

Fifteen minutes later, the Tenno completed the basic repairs. The damaged thruster was restored and the scars on the Liset's frame were mostly patched over. Now back on board, the Operator took their seat at Navigation, one leg crossed over the other, watching as the projected Earth slowly rotated into view at Navigation. Helios wasn't with them now, the Operator had let the curious little Sentinel out to scan nature to its little cerebrums content while he continued the debrief with Ordis.

"The void cloak is once again fully operational," Ordis reported. "We should be undetectable to any native system."

"Should?" the Operator repeated flatly. "I thought you said it was fully operational?"

"Yes... unfortunately, Ordis cannot guarantee protection from parahuman thinker or tinker abilities. The Simurgh's capacity to locate and intercept us was anomalous. If others possess similar predictive or information-gathering traits, the cloak may not be sufficient."

The Operator didn't respond immediately. They simply stared at the globe for a few seconds, thinking about the fight with the relentless false angel and the fact that there were two others in the world with similar capabilities to her.

"Well if that is the case, we need to be even more prepared for her and any other threat in a similar class if it's going to take as long as I think it will for help to arrive.

"Very wise of you Operator," Ordis replied warmly. Then his tone shifted, more alert and worried. "But before we proceed, I believe you will want to see this."

The holographic globe vanished from the navigation array, replaced by an incoming torrent of digital noise. Feeds from news broadcasts, public forums, social media clips, and even encrypted satellite logs started to cycle across the screen. They were raw, chaotic, but unmistakable in what they were capturing.

Grainy cellphone footage played first—videos taken from rooftops, balconies, and streets across the globe. Civilians pointed shaky cameras skyward, panicking as brilliant explosions lit up the clouds far above, the flashes of Ivara's elemental arrows coloring the sky like fireworks. Some screamed, others stared silently as a fight they couldn't even see took place in the heavens.

Then came the telescope shots: amateur astronomers on live streams, freaking out mid-broadcast as they caught glimpses of a strange object darting through the upper atmosphere. Frame-by-frame analysis showed the faint silhouette of the Liset, warped and blurred but still identifiable if you knew what to look for.

One shaky satellite feed played on loop—just five seconds of blurry combat before static took over as its parts began to unravel the Simurgh telekinesis. Then another, showing a brief glimpse of her tinkertech ring and another near indiscernible shot of Ivara hanging by a wire from the Liset before it, too, went dark.

News headlines followed, all in different languages but saying almost the same thing:
"Unidentified Aerial Combat Over Earth's Atmosphere!"
"Endbringer And Alien Encounter?!"
"Government Officials Refuse to Comment on Orbital Incident."
"New Tinker Weaponry or Extraterrestrial Life?"

Blog posts and forum threads exploded with theories. Conspiracy boards were already filled with edited stills of the Liset, circled in red and accompanied by paragraphs of unhinged analysis. Some claimed it was the creation of rogue tinkers belonging to a parahuman organization called Toybox. More than a few jumped straight to aliens, which the Operator found slightly amusing due both its foundation in truth and inaccuracy.

"I tried to limit the damage Operator," Ordis added after some time. "Suppressed as many high quality captures of you as I could but the civilian feeds… well, they're everywhere."

The Tenno exhaled through his nose as he looked at the feeds again—a little disappointed in himself in how fast his cover was blown but it wasn't all that bad. The exposure wasn't total. There was no solid information or even a clear picture of Ivara and the Liset that they could use to confirm his "extraterrestrial" origins.

"Thanks for trying Ordis but I sort of suspected this would happen so it's no big deal. You don't need to do any more damage control. Lets focus back on the threats of this world for now."

"Yes Operator," Ordis replied succinctly before dismissing the feeds.

Once more, the globe of Earth spun slowly, its surface marked with several threat indicators on different continents. Ordis, as requested, had begun compiling intelligence regarding what this world considered high-level threats within the same tier as the Simurgh.

"Operator," Ordis began, his voice calm but brisk, "data packets recovered from previous intercepts and open broadcasts suggest several hostile threats in this continent alone. Three are particularly active and rated S-Class threats by the locals, similar to the Simurgh. The Machine Army at location referred to by the Parahuman Response Team as Site Q3, a biology manipulator in the now destroyed town of Ellisburg labeled 'Nilbog,' and a roving group of MURDERERS known as the Slaughterhouse Nine."

The operator's eyes widened minutely in the transference chamber, that was the first glitch from Ordis they had heard in a while. The last group, judging by their name alone, had to be real scum if they got Ordis worked up enough to glitch like that. However, this machine army and the biological anomaly that sounded like the Sentient and the Infested warranted more of his attention first.

"Start with the Machine Army Ordis." The Tenno ordered.

"Of course, they are a swarm of autonomous self-replicating, self-upgrading AI believed to have originated from a rogue tinker in the town who lost control of it and died during the AI's violent takeover of the area. It continues to maintain control of Eagleton Tennessee with hostile precision, eliminating intruders on sight, and adapting to most of this world's mundane and Parahuman countermeasures."

The Operator nodded slightly in relief that they definitely weren't sentients. Without relying on Umbra or transference, they were annoying to fight. Though he wouldn't be too worried about taking on some Sentients without those things as he had one of his Incarnon weapons equipped.

"So basically a bunch of rogue Corpus proxies," the Tenno surmised nonchalantly. If these AI were anything close to the Sentients, a little containment zone wouldn't have stopped them.

"A fitting comparison Operator. We have no telemetry inside the quarantine zone without breaking into secure PRT communications but satellite observations and my own scans before the Simurgh incident showed advanced, by this world's standards, drone formations but nothing on the level of the Sentients."

More data on their capabilities and forms was provided on navigation but it seemed relatively outdated. "We'll need more intel but from what I'm seeing, Mag should be more than enough to clear these wannabe Sentients out if we ever end up going there."

"Agreed." Ordis replied.

"Next, I wanna hear about this Nilbog guy."

"Ellisburg. Site E2. Occupied by a parahuman bio-tinker known as Nilbog. He has turned the quarantine zone into a fiefdom after killing all its inhabitants and the retaliatory force that came to apprehend him. His abilities let him generate empowered biological entities through bio-modification and forced reproduction."

"Great," The Operator grumbled as he read the new information and thought back to a similar situation with a certain warframe obsessed corpus researcher whose name was one letter off from sounding like salad. "We have a madman with control of this world version of the Infested."

"Indeed. The process he uses has similarities to the Infestation, though Nilbog and his creations lack the parasitic hunger and exponential spread of the technocyte. His creations are loyal, territorial, and not inherently expansionist so containment is stable for now. His interest appears to be inward."

"If that changes, we move, and he dies." The tenno spoke calmly with the finality of someone who was judge, jury and executioner. "I don't know why the powers of this world haven't wiped him and his pet monsters from the map but I can't let someone so dangerous keep living if he poses even half of the danger the infestation would to this world."

"I concur operator, I believe Saryn would be ideal for EXTERMINATING that particular parahuman," Ordis added on.

'Yeah, she would be.' The Operator thought somewhat wistfully. 'Sol, I could think of plenty of other warframes and weapons I could use to kill this Mutalist Alad V knock off, the Simurgh, and every other threat to me and this world. It probably wouldn't even take a full planetary rotation to do it if I'm fast and chose my loadout well.'

The Tenno's thoughts were little more than a fanciful dream at this point in time. The Man In The Wall had compromised his arsenal, so stacking the proverbial deck against his enemies by choosing warframes and weapons to perfectly counter their abilities and exploit their weaknesses was not possible.

"Tell me about these murderers Ordis," He asked after some time with his thoughts.

The display shifted again. New data flowed across the holographic globe.

"The Slaughterhouse Nine," Ordis continued in a voice dripping with disdain. "Unlike the others on this continent, they have no base of operations. They are migratory. Their tactics include psychological warfare, targeted abductions, civilian massacres, and the elimination of other parahumans."

Images flashed across the display—scorched buildings, broken capes, mutilated corpses and new feeds and articles displaying the gruesome results of their sick games. The Operator's jaw clenched. He could see why Ordis hated these guys in particular now. They were scum comparable to some of the most depraved Orokin.

Hearing no remarks from their operator, Ordis continued speaking. "Their leader and longest surviving member is Jack Slash—dangerously charismatic, mobile, and lethal."

Images and videos of an average looking but well trimmed bearded man appeared. He wore casual clothing, with only a belt of knives and unnaturally cold eyes to suggest he was anything but normal. Fights of heroes and villains going after him played but they were cut down by an invisible attack when he drew his knife.

The operator continued to say nothing but his mind easily came up with a counter to the man's parahuman ability and dismissed him as a non threat. He could do the same and better with Equinox, Dante, or even just his void beam since normal people couldn't perceive the non-existent colors of the void the way a Tenno could.

What was more interesting to the Tenno was how Jack had managed to stay alive as the sole permanent member and leader of a group of wanted blood thirsty lunatics for years without either being dethroned by the clearly stronger members of the group, assassinated by the local law enforcement or killed by a grieving survivor of one of his slaughters that happen to own a sniper rifle or lots of explosives.

"The team roster fluctuates.." Ordis droned on."But current members include several S-class individuals such as Crawler, Bonesaw, Siberian, and Shatterbird. They are classified by local law enforcement and parahuman organizations as active kill-on-sight targets."

 

New data, images, and brief clips filled the air around the Operator. He absorbed the information and estimated threat levels based on just his current kit. None of them except the Siberian rated even close to high. The stripped cannibalistic woman seemed truly invulnerable, having no recorded case of ever being injured or slowed down even a bit by some of the strongest warriors of this world.

However, the Tenno did not believe this to be the case. In his own experience killing and using some of the many beings in the Origin System who could boast to be invulnerable, there was always a gimmick. And if there wasn't, just apply generous amounts of void energy.

Ordis was quiet as the information on the different members cycled through the Operator's vision. The Tenno either commenting on the members or asking Ordis for clarification on certain parts of the report.

Then he saw a face that shouldnt belong on this list.

Bonesaw. A biotinker and little girl, maybe twelve years old at most. She had blonde hair and a bright smile, despite being covered in blood and guts when the photo was taken. She was too young to be standing among madmen and murderers, but there she was. Not a hostage, but an active participant who reveled in the bloodshed and torture as much as her comrades.

The Operator stared at her face in the stills and videos for a good long while, not even he was sure what he was looking for until he focused on her eyes. Behind the childlike grin, her eyes were cold, detached. Familiar.

He'd seen that look in fellow Tenno, long ago aboard the Zariman Ten Zero and in Margulis care. It was the eyes of children who had lived through too much, too fast. The experience stripping whatever innocence she might've had before. Burned out no doubt by the oh so charismatic Jack Slash.

His fist clenched in anger. If the Machine Army were Corpus and Nilbog the Infested, then the Nine were Orokin. The Grustrag Three could be considered more fitting but those insane Grineer didn't twist children into being their loyal killing machines. Orokin did that.

The more he stared at her pictures and videos the more he wanted to end Bonesaw. Not out of anger or hate, but to free her from the hell she didn't even know she was living in right now. Saving and rehabilitating her didn't seem a viable option in their current situation and Bonesaw was rightly hated and wanted dead by this country's people for her atrocities and crimes, regardless of her age. Her victims and their loved ones deserved some sort of justice after all.

Yet, another part of him wanted to save her. Like Margulis had saved him. Like the Lotus had adopted them. But there were no guarantees, only choices. And when the time came, he'd make one. What that choice was now, he couldn't tell. But one way or another, he would bring her peace.

Ordis, oblivious to his thoughts, continued to speak. Voice shifting from disgust to delight. "Operator look, their kill orders are tied to substantial bounty rewards! Should you choose to rid the world of these ANIMALS and claim the reward, I have taken the liberty of tracking them through local surveillance nodes and have marked them on navigation."

The data on the nine were put away and a camera feed tracking a drab, tinted window RV strolling down a highway appeared.

"Would you like to set a course for them, Operator?" The ship cephalon sounded excited, blood thirsty even. It was clear what he wanted the answer to be.

The Operator leaned back in Ivara, their fingers on their knees, thrumming them like bow strings. Then with a slow shake of her head, answered. "No. Not yet. Keep an eye on them. Alert me the moment they try to attack anyone but we're not striking yet."

The Tenno didn't doubt his ability to kill the Nine but he wanted more time to think about what to do with Bonesaw. Furthermore, something stank about all of this to him. Not just the Slaughterhouse Nine running free for so long but Nilbog and the Machine Army. The way the threats were handled and cornered away without ever being truly dealt with rubbed him the wrong way and he wanted to find out why.

There was also the fact that their main mission now was to get back to the Origin System and their secondary mission was to figure out why the Indifference sent them here. As a Tenno, he was honor bound to help the innocent where he could, so he would eventually kill some, if not all, of these S-Class threats before he left.

He wouldn't be able to face his family—those gone and still alive—if he didn't. However, his first priority in this new world would always be getting back to his family.

Ordis's voice, tinged with surprise and enthusiasm, cut through the Tenno's thoughts. "Understood Operator, while it is a shame you will not eliminate those—CRAZED LUNATICS—criminals right now, Ordis has discovered something rather fascinating. According to several broadcasts and the world wide digital network… this version of Earth possesses pathways to alternate Earths."

The Ivara's head jerked up, its main optic locking onto the ceiling of the Liset. It was as close to eye contact with Ordis as the frame could manage outside the Weave—and in a way, it was.

There was a long pause as the Tenno tried to make sense of this news. How could this world—primitive by most standards of the Origin System—have cracked interdimensional travel without the Void? Sol, they hadn't even colonized the moon and yet they had interdimensional travel. He ran through several theories on why this could be in quick succession, even trying to tie it back to the Infestation somehow.

Eventually, he gave up and simply decided that these Tinkers were bullshit. "Could you elaborate on that Ordis?"

"Of course, Operator," Ordis replied as several data feeds began to flicker into view. "It is public knowledge—though, I must admit, due to this world's generally primitive technological base and the limited impact of this alternate Earth outside of consumer media, Ordis initially dismissed it as speculative nonsense when we were in Orbit. A mistake I regret."

The Tenno remained still, listening closely as the Cephalon continued. He didn't even blame Ordis for missing such valuable information. This place was weird and nonsensical.

"Upon closer inspection, however, I discovered that a real, stable interdimensional portal exists somewhere. It was created by the well known and now-deceased Tinker named Professor Haywire and has been active for some time. Unfortunately, its exact location is highly classified and almost certainly guarded. I have found no trace of it in public data caches. Furthermore, the only other known site containing Haywire's technology was attacked, used, and subsequently destroyed by the Simurgh during a prior attack."

The Warframe leaned forward slightly, an unspoken mix of suspicion and hope in the Ivara frames body language. The Operator couldn't believe getting home would really be this simple. It couldn't be with a Tenno's luck. But he wouldn't know that for sure unless he got his hands on that technology.

"Ordis," the Operator said, voice low but firm. "Find me the nearest major Parahuman Response Team headquarters. We're going to know everything they do about this portal technology and where they keep it."

Chapter Text

Breaking into the PRT ENE headquarters would be surprisingly straightforward for the Tenno. Not due to any lack of competence on the part of the staff, nor solely because he was utilizing Ivara Prime's stealth abilities, but primarily because he had Ordis. The Cephalon's ability to seamlessly bypass and manipulate security systems proved invaluable.

By the time the Liset had entered the city limits of Brockton Bay, still cloaked, Ordis had already begun peeling through the PRT's external firewalls. Real time camera footage editing, spoofed alarms, dummy sensor data—basically turning their security system into a puppet show.

Even so, caution was still exercised. After all, even if the security system would be blind to him and his machinations, the people could still notice something if he made a mistake. That wasn't even getting into the complication that would be parahuman technology and powers.

Luckily, due to his recent engagement with the Simurgh, the Protectorate heroes of this city were gathered on their sea fortress, still waiting for news on if they would need to fight. So aside from the junior division of the Protectorate, the Wards, no other parahumans would be in the building.

As the ship hovered high above the base, the Operator, already invisible, dropped from the belly of the landing craft. The wind flew by loudly as he rapidly descended from air to the ground. Just as Ivara was about to make impact with the helicopter pad and undoubtedly grab the attention of the guards by cratering it. On nothing but air, Ivara jumped, arresting her momentum in an instant to land softly.

The PRT Troopers, none the wiser of the intruder among them, kept talking amongst themselves near the door. Generating a trick arrow in their hand, the Operator casually threw it to his left while walking away from it. The trick arrow burst into energy and let out a ping.

Despite their conversation and the wind, the troopers heard the noise of the trick arrow, allowing the slight mental compulsion of the sound to take effect. All four guards got quiet, readied their weapons and went looking for the source of the noise as the Operator circled around them and approached the door.

The access door clicked open without resistance. Ordis had already hijacked its controls and spoofed the feed—anyone watching the camera on it would see a door that never moved. The Tenno could hear the guards report into their radios the noise they heard as the roof access door gently closed behind him but was not worried about it. Ordis would handle it.

Inside the stairwell, it was all clean lines and white walls. The Operator descended each step with soft, quick, and deliberate movements. The sound of distant chatter and office bustle began to bleed through the walls the lower he went. Ordis had marked a path through the building, and the fastest route cut straight through a floor of busy office space.

There were longer, safer routes the Operator could have taken to get to the servers but he chose the faster one because he was confident in his stealth skills, especially when he had the Infiltrate augment mod on. Any traps or surprise alarms that Ordis couldn't detect or hack could be easily bypassed as the mod strengthened Ivara's Shroud to the point she could walk through even laser grids without tripping them.

Once he finally made it to the office floors, he stopped at the door that he would need to cut through.Using the mini-map and the camera feed Ordis was steaming to him, he perfectly timed when to open the door and slip in when no one was paying attention to it.

What greeted him inside were rows of cubicles stretched across the space, broken only by clear-glass meeting rooms and the occasional cluster of uniformed troopers speaking in low tones. Parahuman specialists, techs, analysts—most focused on their terminals, a few sipping coffee or pacing with tablets in hand. Enough eyes and ears to ruin everything if he slipped up.

With Ivara, he could put the whole room to sleep in an instant and go past, but the Operator didn't do that. Instead, he scaled the wall with barely a sound. Hands and feet latched onto the vertical surface with practiced ease. Ivara moved less like the huntress it was and more like Oraxia, crawling sideways, upside down, climbing across support beams and ventilation rails.

Below, a worker in a blazer stretched at their desk, glancing upward and saw nothing. Just the ceiling, even as Ivara in all her gold and white glory, was crawling right above him.

At a tight bottleneck, where the ceiling dropped low and two groups converged near a hallway intersection, he perched silently above them. Ivara clung to a horizontal beam as two small crowds passed directly beneath, exchanging jokes about the Liset being a U.F.O.

The time it took for them to thin out caused his latch to weaken significantly, so he dropped silently to the floor and rolled behind a wall partition for a few seconds to get it back to full power.

A moment later, he was on the ceiling again.

He moved quickly across the room now, using wall latches and silent bullet jumps where needed, slipping past clusters of people and furniture until he finally reached the far end of the office floor where the second stairwell was located. He entered without pause.

Down he went, floor by floor, slipping past the occasional worker or trooper moving between levels. Eventually, he reached the designated floor—one level below the underground parahuman containment wing and just above the Wards' quarters. This was where the backup generator and main server room were located.

The difference between this floor and the rest was stark. No windows. Colder air. Dimmer lights. Sparse foot traffic.

Even so, the Operator didn't let his guard down. He kept Ivara's Shroud active, moving briskly but alert down the corridor. A few staff and guards moved about, but with space between them there was no need to stop. He stepped around their paths cleanly, avoiding contact.

Almost a minute of walking and following Ordis markers had passed until Ivara finally reached a hallway where a reinforced door waited at the other end—solid steel with a biometric lock panel and dual authentication scanner, guarding what was clearly the server room.

While walking up to it, the locks disengaged with a soft click the moment the Operator got close. He slipped through the now-unlocked door, letting it seal quietly behind him and Ordis relock it. Inside, the air was colder still, almost sterile. Towering server racks filled the space, blinking with rows of indicator lights and humming with low, constant energy. Cables snaked in every direction, some suspended from overhead tracks, others coiled neatly along the floor. Cooling fans droned steadily, masking all but the loudest noises.

Near the central control terminal sat a lone tech—pale, shaking, probably from stress or lack of sleep. His eyes were wide, fixed on a screen. Whatever data he was monitoring had him too distracted to notice the door or the shadow moving through it.

Without a sound, the Operator raised a hand and summoned a sleep arrow. With a light toss, it whistled softly through the air and on impact with the tech, burst into energy. The man didn't even twitch before slumping forward in his chair, breathing slow and steady.

The Operator gave the body a glance to confirm unconsciousness, then looked toward the main terminal. "Ready Ordis?"

"Always, Operator," came the Cephalon's prompt reply.

With that confirmation, the Operator jammed the Parazon into the terminal. The device interfaced seamlessly, its tendrils of code weaving into the system's architecture. Data streams flowed across his HUD, lines of information cascading as Ordis navigated the network.Lines of data flew by—encrypted PRT logs, internal reports, facility schematics and much more. The Operator narrowed the search parameters. Portal. Interdimensional. Professor Haywire. Earth Aleph.

Seconds passed before Ordis spoke.

"This is odd…" He said, voice tinged with digital frustration. "The data is heavily compartmentalized. All files related to the Aleph portal are stripped of meaningful content. Logs contain only surface-level details—public information we already possess. All technical and operational specifics are restricted."

The Operator frowned behind the Warframe's helm. "How restricted?"

"Only accessible to Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown, the President, and select cabinet-level personnel. No backups exist here. The encryption systems enforce total lockdown unless queried from verified central terminals."

The Operator pulled the Parazon free, the connection severing. He stared at the console a moment longer, then let out a low, annoyed exhale through his nose in the transference pod.

So he'd been right. Getting home wasn't going to be easy. And unless he was willing to stoop to kidnapping world leaders, that technology was going to stay out of reach. Sure, the politicians were probably far from innocent—but he'd already besmirched his honor by breaking into the PRT and trying to steal classified data from an organization that wasn't even his enemy. He wasn't ready to cross another line. Not yet. Not when he could still wait for the Lotus to find him.

Ivara turned and retraced her steps, gliding through the cold corridor like a ghost. The tech slumped at the console would wake soon, unharmed, never realizing he'd even lost consciousness. The terminal would show no breaches. No tampering. No sign anyone had ever been there.

The Operator took the same route back up—through the stairwells, keeping to shadows and blind spots as Ordis quietly cleared the way. He didn't stop. Didn't pause. Just kept moving until he reached the ground floor.

There, under the cloak of Ivara's shroud, he waited near the exit, looking at the floof's in the gift shop until a group of tourists began exiting the building. He followed close behind them, slipping out the door without issue.

He walked away down the city's street to the designated evacuation site.

Annoyed at this waste of time and more than a little frustrated.

Chapter Text

Back aboard the Liset, the Operator sat in silence, brooding both in Ivara and the transference chair. The soft hum of the ship's systems filled the quiet, but it didn't ease the frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Ordis, ever the loyal Cephalon, tried to lift his spirits. "Operator, while the data was unhelpful, perhaps some... stress relief is in order? Might I suggest eliminating the Slaughterhouse Nine? It would be good for morale—THEY DESERVE IT ANYWAY."

Helios, sensing the mood, hovered closer. The Sentinel drifted beside the Operator like a concerned pet. It meant well, but the gesture wasn't needed, it wasn't like he'd given up hope of returning or something. He was sure that anytime now he would be contacted by the Drifter—if he ever stopped sucking face with Aoi.

As if thinking his name summoned him, the Operator felt a tug at the edge of his mind. Subtle, but unmistakably his connection with the Drifter. Without wasting time, he informed Ordis to hide the ship and dived into the connection.

Reality blurred for a moment, and instantly the Operator wasn't in his warframe or the transference chamber, not mentally at least. His mind was elsewhere, in the Void. Its impossible colors streaked past at speeds beyond comprehension as the Operator's mind once again traversed unreality.

Then as swiftly as the experience came about, it ended.

He stood on solid ground, but it wasn't any part of the Liset or the Orbiter. The floor beneath him was packed dirt and stone, damp and uneven. Moss clung to the rock in patches. Roots hung from the ceiling like veins, and light blue void light poured in through cracks above.

The place looked like a natural cave that had been repurposed. Stone lanterns glowed faintly along the edges, and at the center of the wide cavern was a raised circular platform with six stone stools surrounding it. It was empty except for two figures standing near the back.

The Operator recognized both immediately—the Drifter, his older looking half, weathered, posture relaxed. Their armor was scuffed, cloak half-draped over one shoulder. Next to them stood the Lotus, she wore her standard attire—smooth, purple and black bodysuit with gold accented robes. Her helmet was sleek and angular, covering nearly all of her face except for what was below her nose.

Then between one blink and the next, she was on him.

The Lotus wrapped him in a crushing hug—tight, desperate, trembling. "My child… I was so worried. I thought… I thought I lost you."

The Operator didn't even jump at his adoptive mothers sudden change in location, he only let out a breathless chuckle and hugged her back. "I'm fine, Lotus. Ordis and Umbra are fine too."

She pulled back just enough to see his face, her hands still holding his shoulders like she was afraid to let go. Relief flooded her visible features, but it was the deep, quiet love in her aura that said everything. He might've been one among thousands of her children, but to her, each child was her heart and for even one to be lost was unbearable.

"But where are you?" she asked quietly. "No matter what I do, I cannot track your location in the Void."

"Another universe, it looks like," Drifter answered before the Operator could. He stepped closer, arms crossed, voice low. "Right before he got pulled in here, I saw an unfamiliar city through his eyes. Pre-Orokin from the looks of it."

The Operator and the Lotus turned to him. Drifter looked mildly sheepish, like he'd just been caught slacking.

"Sorry it took so long to get back to you kid. Aoi was…" He glanced away, eyes shifting to the nothingness above, clearly embarrassed. "...insistent."

The Lotus frowned at him, clearly not pleased he had put time with his girlfriend above helping her find her son.

"There was also the issue of his competence," she added, her tone more measured now. "The Champion could not stabilize a telepathic link on his own. We had to build a custom transference amplifier to reach you. It also unintentionally helped him create this space—a sub-dimension in the Void that allows our mental bodies to interact as if we were physically present."

"Well, that explains why it took so long to contact me," the Operator muttered, shooting his counterpart a dry look before asking for the information he wanted to know. "So how long until you guys can come get me and Ordis? This place is interesting, sure, but I'd rather be back in the Origin System."

Drifter's expression tightened. He scratched the back of his neck..

"Yeah… about that." A beat. "We have no idea how to do that right. We got me to 1999 using a bunch of science I can barely comprehend and a vessel designed with Arthur's proto-frame genetics. You don't have one of those for us to use to pinpoint you and even if we did, we're going to need a new way to cross between universes and time if we want to bring your Orbiter back with you."

The Operator groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but this is ridiculous."

The Lotus and Drifter both opened their mouths to respond, but stopped when the Operator straightened slightly, his expression shifting.

"But," he said, "I think I've found a way to speed things up."

They both focused on him more intensely, silent, and waiting.

The Operator took a breath, then launched into a summary—how he'd been swallowed by the Indifference, how the orbiter was now stuck in the void but near an opening in it small enough to let a landing craft through, how his Arsenal had been compromised, how he woke up in a primitive new system and discovered another version of Earth.

He explained the existence of parahumans, the way their powers didn't rely on the Void or any other known source of power, his first confrontation with an Endbringer, finding out about this new earth's access to stable interdimensional travel, and finally his infiltration of the PRT and the discovery that Professor Haywire's technology was locked behind political walls.

By the time he finished, both Lotus and Drifter were silent, absorbing everything.

Drifter finally broke it with a low whistle. "Well damn… you've been busy. I think Cy's going to be jealous when he hears about your dog fight."

The Operator laughed, putting a smile on the Lotus face. "That's what I said!"

"My child," she said, voice warm but composed, "If you believe this PRT and Protectorate are worthy of your trust, then treat them like any other Syndicate. Introduce yourself. Offer your strength. Build reputation and trust. When the time is right, use that to access what you need."

He nodded, a little surprised he hadn't thought of this himself. This was the same way he'd dealt with New Loka, Perrin, Solaris United—even the Entrati Family. Different world, same tactics.

"You're right, Lotus. Thanks." His brow furrowed in thought. "So… who's going to lead the effort to crack interdimensional travel? Loid? As Albrecht's assistant, he's definitely the most qualified."

The Lotus gave a long-suffering sigh. "Loid and the Cavia will be asked to contribute. As well as Kaya, given she already has her own means of portal based time travel but... other experts will be needed to help speed the process up."

The Operator had completely forgotten about Kaya's incredible feat of time travel due to the fact the version of her in 1999 from drifters recent memories hadn't cracked it yet.

But what he focused on the most was that sigh from the Lotus. Then there was that tone… Could it be?

"Wait…" The tenno grinned slowly as realization dawned. "No way. Is Al going to help?"

The simultaneous sigh from both the Lotus and Drifter confirmed it before either said a word.

The Operator was grinning ear to ear now. "As in little Al, Limbo Theorem Al? The one who telefragged himself across the system trying to calculate a Rift Walk manually because he 'didn't need a Warframe to be a genius'?"

"That was a long time ago!" a voice snapped sharply.

With a flicker of blue void light, a short boy materialized in front of him, hair dark and slightly unkempt, glowing purple eyes glaring up at him with every inch of defiance his small frame could muster.

The Operator gave him a long, smug look, the surprise of the boy's appearance not stopping the words coming out his mouth. "Sure it was. Doesn't change the fact that I had to rebuild your warframe from scrap."

Al's cheeks flushed red, his purple eyes glowing so fiercely with void power that'd make a hardened Grineer Elite shit their pants. "I said stop bringing that up and give back my Limbo!"

"Make me," the Operator shot back, clearly enjoying himself.

"I'll quit this stupid rescue mission. I swear to Void."

"Do it. Then I get to tell everyone from Simaris to Kayla De Thayme you rage-quit like a baby."

"I WAS TEN!" Al was floating now, his eyes level with the Operators. Not that it helped the ancient child appear more threatening to his older brother.

The Operator scoffed, barely keeping himself from doubling over laughing. "Maybe mentally, but you were well over a hundred by that point. I guess Teshin was wrong about wisdom coming with age, at least when it comes to you."

The Lotus sighed as the petty argument between her children escalated a notch in volume, though a smile was on her face.

The Drifter turned to her, ignoring the argument. "Think if you say yes it'll crash the system?"

"Most likely," she responded after some thought. "But now is as good a time as any for a stress test."

Her words broke the dam.

One by one, Tenno began phasing in, some already snickering, others piling on the teasing as more voices filled the cave. A dozen at first. Then more. Brothers and sisters crowding around him in half-real avatars, shouting over each other, demanding updates, throwing in their own memories.

"How strong are the Eidolons in that world?"

"Who's the strongest parahuman? Think we can beat us?"

"Please tell me you got some scans on the tinker tech?"

"What's the fashion like?"

"You find any cute floofs?"

It was chaos—but familiar chaos.

They were loud. Messy. Invasive.

But for the first time since waking up in this strange world, the Operator felt just a little less lost.

"Alright, quiet down, kids." Drifter's voice cut through the noise, lloud and authoritative.

The silence was immediate, almost jarringly so. Heads turned, around eighty pairs of glowing eyes locking on him.

And then the murmur started again. Not excitement but confusion.

"Kids?" one of the older-looking boys asked, raising a brow.

"Did he just call us kids?" said a sharp-voiced girl in a transference suit.

"We're the same age." said another, her tone flat with disbelief.

"I'm literally older than you by four cycles," muttered someone else in the back.

Even the tiniest of them were staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

Drifter's smirk mirrored his younger self's almost perfectly. He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Yes, kids. I can call you that because I'm one of the two people here that's physically an adult."

A beat.

Then a tiny voice piped up—high-pitched, almost squeaky, from a girl who looked barely older than five. "You spent most of that time trapped in Duviri though. So, even if you look older, you've got way less life experience than the rest of us and even with mom here, we're still the oldest."

A few snickers followed. Some of the Tenno even looked a little shocked at the realization that they were older than their adoptive mother.

Drifter opened his mouth to reply then closed it again when he saw his counterpart smiling while shaking his head at him. Al now on his shoulders like a young prince riding his loyal steed.

"…Fair," he muttered, grudgingly.

But before the Tenno pack could swarm with more comebacks and poorly hidden laughter, the Lotus stepped forward. Her presence alone was enough to calm the room.

"Enough children" she said gently, her voice layered with subtle echo and warmth. "You have had your turn to check in on your brother. Now we must depart. I cannot predict the consequences of so many of us interacting with the experimental transference technology all at once."

Many sighs and whines of disappointment echoed throughout the cave but all the children of the Zariman present nodded, ready to depart.

Al, still perched on his big brother's shoulder with his tiny legs swinging lightly against the chestplate, idly commented, "Well, if we don't manage to work things out by the next big disaster, Drifter could always make himself useful and let you bounce back to the Origin System using your connection."

The Operator opened his mouth, already prepared to repeat—again—that not only could he and Drifter not exist in the same timeline for any meaningful stretch, but that returning would mean abandoning his Orbiter in an untraceable corner of the Void.

But Al cut him off before a single word left his mouth.

"I know, I know. You can't be in the same timeline too long, and you don't wanna leave your stuff," Al said with the brisk impatience only a genius child could wield. "But if we get Drifter to Duviri—or 1999—before you destabilize, you'll both be fine. As for your stuff... well, if push comes to shove and we need you, starting over would be better than being stuck, right?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then a new voice broke through the crowd.

"And what," asked a teenage girl as she stepped forward, "have him abandon Umbra and Ordis to drift in the Void forever?"

She wore a transference suit like the others, but hers was scuffed, worn in a way that showed long use and little vanity. Her fire-red hair was pulled into a rough ponytail, a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched just above sharp, no-nonsense eyes.

The moment she spoke, the possibility Al had raised evaporated. The Operator's jaw clenched. Al, still balanced on his shoulder, quieted, sensing the shift in his brother's mood.

"I'm not doing that," the Operator said finally. His voice was low and firm.

"You all know Umbra's story," he continued. "But most of you don't know Ordis. Not like I do. After the old war, I left him alone and it nearly killed him. He couldn't take it. The waiting. The centuries of loneliness."

The Operator's hands curled into fists at his sides, shame and guilt on his features.

"He tried to self-destruct." That got a few sympathetic gasps and Al's legs stilled completely. "But his love for me, programmed or not, made him abort at the last second, fracturing his mind. That's why he's the way he is now. Glitchy with pieces of his old and new personality split and twisted together."

Silence reigned as The Operator's eyes traveled the room, not just to his brothers and sisters but to the Lotus and the Drifter.

"I'm sorry but I'm not leaving him alone again." His words were heavy and final. "I was lucky that Drifter appeared to take care of him after Ballas trapped me in the void. I won't bet on a third alternate version of me appearing if I leave Ordis now.

Even though he couldn't meet all their eyes, he sensed their acceptance of words and even their support.

"Then do not worry my son, no matter what the system faces next, we will handle it." Lotus stated firmly, her voice not just directed at the Operator but to every one of her children in the cave and the ones listening in from the Origin System. "Until the day we can call all of our family back home safely."

A wave of agreement spread through the room once more before Al spoke up again

. "…Sorry." he mumbled into his brother's hair

The Operator heard him and reached up to ruffle the kid's hair. "Don't be. You were just thinking ahead. That's what you do."

"I'll think of something better," Al muttered stubbornly.

The Operator nodded and smiled. "I know you will."

With those words, the weight on the Operator's shoulders vanished as Al blinked out of existence. Following his lead, many of the others began saying their farewells too—some with waves, others with nods or nothing at all. One by one, they shimmered out, until the cave was quiet again.

Only three remained.

"Be safe, my child," the Lotus said gently as she stepped forward. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing his skin in a mother's final act of comfort. "This new world is far from my sight and far from my reach. I cannot protect you there."

The Operator leaned into her touch and gave her a small, confident smile. "Don't worry, Lotus. I'll be careful."

She hesitated, just a second longer, and then she too faded away.

The Operator stood still, staring at the empty space she left behind for a few moments before he finally turned, facing the only other one left.

"Listen, kid," the Drifter said before he could even open his mouth. "I know this new world is dangerous. That Simurgh thing is proof. But if you can fight their equivalent of Eidolons using just Ivara and no void powers… then the rest of this place can't be that bad."

The Operator tilted his head. "Are you saying I shouldn't be on guard?"

Drifter shook his head. "I'm saying you don't need to be war ready every second anymore. So while you're there, live a little."

The Operator raised a brow, lips quirking as he thought back to Aoi. "Like you?"

"Yeah. Like me." Drifter said seriously.

The Operator blinked.

"I mean it," Drifter continued, voice low and calm. "Do normal things. Be a teenager. Go out. Eat junk food. Sleep outside that transference chamber. Date. Laugh. Have fun. Do stuff the Orokin stole from us. This new world isn't peaceful, but it's not the Origin System either. It doesn't need a Tenno to keep it from the brink of ruin. It'll survive if you take some time for yourself."

The Operator stayed quiet as he genuinely considered Drifter's words.

Drifter stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. "And if you ever get homesick, I'll be happy to switch places for a bit. Give you a break."

The Operator glanced away, exhaling slowly through his nose as he realized that for the first time since becoming a Tenno, that the weight of his duty, while not gone, would be much lighter.

"…Alright, thanks Drifter. I'll think about it."

Drifter gave a short nod, then smiled again, more brotherly this time.

"That's all I ask. Just try not to put the fear of Void in too many people, ok?"

"No promises," the Operator chuckled.

With a final smirk, the Drifter turned and vanished, leaving the Operator alone in the cave. It was time to return back to Ordis.

Chapter Text

"Operator?" Ordis's voice buzzed through the ship's systems. "Are you alright? Your vitals spiked during that transference trance."

"It was a family reunion," the Operator replied with a smile. "To make a long story short, the Lotus is aware of our situation and is currently working on a way to track and retrieve us."

"This is great news Operator. Ordis is glad we'll be back home in no time!"

There were a series of gentle knocks on the pod, and already knowing who it was, the Operator mentally commanded it to open. With a soft mechanical hiss, the transference pod unfurled and revealed Umbra standing directly in front of him.

"You heard all that?" the Operator asked.

Umbra tilted his head slightly and gave a slow nod.

The Operator nodded. "Good, I..."

The door to the transference chamber slid open with a whoosh. Umbra instantly turned around, Ignis Wraith in hand and ready to blast the intruder, only to find out it was Ordis.

The cephalon had decided to show up in his Sentinel form and knowing Ordis, the Tenno guessed he had probably decided to use this body to not feel left out.

As Umbra lowered his guard and holstered his weapon, Ordis floated closer and chirped out. "Operator, Ordis is happy to inform you that the Liset is cloaked once more in that forest. Exactly as requested."

"Good work, Ordis." The Operator swung his legs off the pod and stood up, stretching slightly. "Now… we need to figure out our next move."

Umbra tilted his head again, confused. The Operator could tell the former Dax had probably expected the plan to be going into stasis until rescue. Ordis, while more informed, would also be confused since the cephalon wasn't with the Tenno when he was talking to the Drifter.

So the Operator gave a summary of everything that had happened after departing with the Liset and then spoke about what he experienced when the Drifter contacted him. He could've instantly passed on his knowledge through Transference, but staying linked to Ivara helped him stay alert to any changes back on Earth.

"And that's basically everything that's happened so far," the Operator closed out. "Thats why our goal now is to get in good with the PRT so we can access Professor Haywire's portal tech—either to build our own way home or pass the blueprints to the Lotus to help with her end."

Ordis hovered closer in his sentinel form, optics glowing gently. "How do we intend to accomplish this, Operator?" he asked, his metallic voice tinged with caution. "From my initial and still ongoing analysis of the PRT and Protectorate, individuals of our… particular background would not be met with open arms."

The Operator turned to him, face shifting from casual to serious. "Explain."

Ordis tilted in place, doing his best imitation of a nod. "This world's government fears interdimensional contact to a degree that unauthorized portals to other worlds are a criminal offense. In the most extreme case, our presence could be seen as a precursor to an invasion."

The Operator frowned..

"And that's not the worst of it," Ordis continued. "As you know, the North American continent has suffered greatly at the hands of 'biotinkers'—a label that, by their standards, would apply to us. Bonesaw, Nilbog, and their atrocities have poisoned the public's perception of biotechnology. Even if we present ourselves as benevolent, our reliance on the Infestation, even in the form of warframes, would be nearly impossible to justify."

The Operator folded his arms. "We could try to pass the warframes off as power armor… or parahuman mutants. I remember there being mentions of people mutated by their powers, case fifty-three's I believe."

Ordis shook his body in the negative. "Unlikely to hold in the long term. With the arsenal compromised, there is no telling when we'll be forced to use one of the dozens of Infested weaponry or even Nidus. Their mere existence violates multiple parahuman and international biosecurity laws and that is without acknowledging that they are weapons of mass destruction. Additionally, since perception matters much more here than in the origin system, operating as we usually do by permanently eliminating enemies is also ill advised unless the target has been issued a kill order."

The operator groaned in annoyance, voice heavy with disbelief.

"These rules are starting to get annoying," the Operator said dryly. "What's next—'don't shoot unless shot at'?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Umbra turned to stare at Ordis.

"It's not a strict rule for law enforcement or parahumans," Ordis said carefully. "But… it's likely a guideline we'll need to follow if we want to build a positive public reputation."

The Tenno sighed, but didn't argue. He wasn't thrilled about fighting with one hand tied behind his back, no lethality eliminated many, if not all of his weapons, as options when dealing with those who don't possess a kill order but it wasn't a deal breaker for him.

"Fine. We play nice. Kid gloves on. The real question is how do I approach them. I could walk through the front door and pretend to be a parahuman with my real body, but I doubt that'll hold up if any of their thinkers can tell if I'm not one of them."

Umbra began gesturing with growing energy, drawing the Operator's attention while Ordis hovered nearby, clearly trying to puzzle out what the warframe was trying to say, but the Tenno caught on immediately.

"Let them come to us, huh?" he said, nodding. "Not a bad idea. If we build up a solid reputation on our own, when the PRT inevitably comes to recruit, we can talk from a position of strength—as respected public figures instead of unknown threats. That way, even if they find out the truth, they won't have any logical reason to assume we mean harm."

It was an idealistic strategy, admittedly. Even if they acted with pure intentions, there would always be people in power willing to spin it into a threat—either out of fear, selfishness, or sheer paranoia. But it was still a better plan than flying the Liset to PRT HQ, announcing that he was an immortal teenage warrior, and asking for help opening a giant portal to his universe full of solar system-spanning, war-happy factions and threats.

"A wonderful plan, Umbra," Ordis said, complimenting the former Dax before turning to his Operator. "Is this to be our next move?"

"Yeah. And we already have a strong card to play," the Tenno said, a broad grin on his face. "We gave the Simurgh a hell of a beating and she's one of the most feared threats on this planet. All we have to do is flash the Liset and Ivara in a public broadcast and we can claim credit for it."

Umbra nodded sharply. Ordis bobbed in approval.

"But," the Operator added, tone cooling, "since we didn't finish the job, I think a definitive win over an S-class threat would make an even stronger impression."

He turned to the hovering Sentinel.

"You're still tracking the Slaughterhouse Nine, right?"

.......

It wasn't even ten minutes later that the Liset was flying low across the treetops and powerlines, invisible and inaudible. Ordis kept her steady, broadcasting a high-priority, miles-wide emergency alert that hijacked car radios and cell signals alike—an escalating voice pretending to be the PRT and warning of dangerous parahumans in the area.

"Hopefully they won't be too mad," Ordis idly spoke while keeping the broadcast on repeat, making sure to keep any of it from reaching the RV housing the nine. "After all, we're about to save quite a few lives. Now if only this JACKASS WOULD GET OFF THE ROAD!"

The Operator hunched forward in Ivara Prime, her jellyfish-like veil waving gently as she watched with irritation as a nondescript civilian van trailed awkwardly behind the nine. Ordis had pinged it with a hundred warnings, but the driver never budged. Probably deaf or too stupid to listen. Regardless, the Tenno couldn't start until that civilian was out of the way.

"Guess I'll have to give him a nap," the Operator muttered in annoyance. One armored hand reached out to the air and grasped, the Artemis Bow materializing in hand as if it was always there. "I've waited long enough for him to move.

Ivara got out of the lotus position, stood, and turned to face the rear ramp coming face to face with Rhino Prime, Trinity Prime, and Excalibur Prime wearing Umbra's visage. All three frames were waiting in patient silence while either leaning casually against walls or seated like armored kings on the shop and codex terminals. Each one looked like the real deal but they weren't, just one of his many and now limited specters. A clone of a real warframe with all their abilities.

These ones also didn't have weapons. It seemed that whatever effect the Man In The Wall put on his arsenal also robbed them of their preset weapons. It was annoying but expected. It wasn't like they needed weapons to do this job anyways.

All this power to take out a couple of murderers drunk on power felt unnecessary to the Operator but Ordis and Umbra had advised before coming here that while being known as a singular powerful being would work fine, appearing as a powerful group would be exponentially better in the long run. Especially if his brothers and sisters were to make an appearance in the future.

"You three ready?" He asked with internal comms.

The Specters didn't speak, just nodded.

"Good, remember, try to keep the bodies intact, and Jack and Bonesaw alive," Ivara commanded as she drew her bow and knocked a sleep arrow while the ramp opened. Wind rushed in, the sight of the highway barely visible before she loosed the arrow.

It flew fast and course corrected automatically to hit its target. The van jerked once as the arrow hit its hood, then coasted to a gentle stop. The driver was slumped over the wheel. There wasn't a need to worry about the civilian sleep-driving into an accident because the car was also asleep.

The nine's RV almost immediately started driving faster for some reason, ditching the highway to go off road and into the woods. Ordis had no problem following them over the dense forest but this wasn't part of the plan. Had the civilian been a secret member or informant of the nine? If so, why didn't he warn them before Ordis had gotten everyone to evacuate the area? It didn't matter either way right now, he was out of commission.

"Operator, we still haven't located Crawler, do you still wish to proceed?" Ordis asked

"Yes, we'll hunt him down later if he doesn't come out soon. Got the recording going?"

"Yes operator."

"Good. Try to get our good side."

The Operator didn't waste anymore time talking, he dropped from the Lisets ramp with the specters, cloaking immediately. They hit the tree line running—silent, deadly and synchronized. Ivara led the pack in the chase, following the dirt trail of the murderers vehicle until they were right on them.

Rhino launched himself into a bullet jump from Ivara's right flank, arcing over the vehicle, and crashing down in front of the Nine's RV with earth shattering force. A concussive wave expanded out from the impact site, smashing into the van and sending it crashing and rolling into the trees.

Normally, this is where the Operator would have put the entire crew of murderers to sleep and then committed them to the void, via the Artemis Bow. But instead, the Operator took to the trees to observe how well the specters would perform against powerful parahumans while also trying to follow his command.

Surprisingly, the RV was intact. Helios, cloaked with Ivara, scanned it, and revealed it was layered with the same alloy they found on the moonbase. An interesting piece of information but irrelevant right now.

The first of the nine to come out the wreck was Hatchet face, the bald and maimed man punched the RV door right off the hinges and sent it flying as he jumped out roaring. Excalibur's hands joined together and pulled apart to reveal his Exalted Blade. Rhino charged past him, bashed the door aside, and met Hatchet Faces' charge.

The killer swung his namesake right at the Warframe specter but it didn't move to defend itself. His hatchet met warframe shields and the shield won effortlessly, rebounding the weapon and leaving its wielder open for attack. Rhino showed no mercy in his retaliatory strike, roaring right as it swung its armored fist into Hatchet Face's chest. The force of which caused him to explode in a shower of blood.

"I said keep the bodies intact," the Tenno chastised the specter through internal comms. "No more using Roar, just stay on defense until Crawler or Siberian show up."

Mere moments after Hatchet Face's death, the vehicles glass exploded outward. Shatterbird mid-song, levitated out the door on wings of glass and sent a shower of it towards Rhino, Trinity, and Excalibur. Rhino alone stood to withstand the onslaught as Trinity and Excalibur, broke right and left respectively to flank the woman as the rest of the Nine spilled out the RV like rats from a burning nest.

Jack Slash, Bonesaw, and Mannequin, each exploded into action the moment they could see their enemies.

Jack, already with a blade in hand, sent invisible slashes toward Excalibur, bypassing shields to carve futilely at warframe armor. Bonesaw's petite form stood under the floating Shatterbird, flinging powders and chemicals from her blood-soaked apron at Rhino instead of running off like Jack to fight. Mannequin, white, armoured and faceless, crawled out the front window of the RV like a roach before flipping onto his legs and blitzing toward Trinity with eerie silence, scalpel-like digits gleaming in the sunlight as he raised to swing at her. She dodged the first swing with a backstep and three follow up ones before grabbing Mannequin's arm and throwing him with a full body twist deep into the forest before following him out of sight.

The only member who wasn't given a chance to even attack was Burnscar.

The Operators Lex Prime barked once and the young woman, midway out the wreck, had a high-caliber round punch a gaping hole through her chest. She gasped once, flames flickering on her fingertips, but collapsed backward into the RV with a gurgle before she could ignite anything and start a forest fire.

Jack twisted in alarm, gaze snapping toward the parts of the tree tops Ivara had fired from just as Excalibur Prime surged forward to take advantage of his momentary distraction. He crossed the gap in an instant and Jack barely raised his arm before the Exalted Blade carved it clean off. The second swing came just as fast, reducing his other arm to a stump. He screamed as he fell on his ass, arms waving wildly as blood poured in wide arcs.

Distracted by the scream of their leader, Bonesaw and Shatterbird turned to see Excalibur raising his sword to do what looked like an execution strike. With a shriek of fury, Shatterbird raised her hand and commanded all her glass that wasn't supporting her flight to attack Excalibur. Bonesaw also leveled her arm at it, the skin moving in weird ways.

They never got the chance to attack, a radiant light flashed from the void powered energy sword, blinding both girls and Jack.

With Excalibur securing Jack for later interrogation, Trinity fighting Mannequin, and Rhino instructed to play defense, the Operator decided that he'd take matters into his own hands again.

A second Lex Prime round put a hole in Shatterbirds chest, narrowly missing her spine but causing her flight to falter. A third shot rang out to finish the job, puncturing through her throat mid-gurgle and beheading her, silencing the monster once and for all. The glass wave meant to save their leader and Shatterbird's wings broke apart harmlessly in the air and she crashed to the forest floor, her body jerking in spasms one more time before going completely still.

With nothing left to attack him, Rhino let Iron Skin activate. His overguard armour gleaming like Orokin Gold as he began his walk towards Bonesaw who was screaming and clawing at her eyes with manic desperation. She had tripped on some of the larger shards of glass after being blinded by Excalibur and that landed her in a crumpled heap near Shatterbird's corpse.

With that done, he began wondering when Trinity would be…

A white blur came tearing out of the treeline, it hit the RV hard enough to cave in the engine block and nearly flip the wreckage over again. Both Rhino and the Operator twitched, weapons and fist ready, expecting the Siberian. But as the dust settled and the form became clear, it wasn't her.

It was Mannequin.

His ceramic armour was caved inward, a perfectly shaped Warframe fist indented in the center. Fractures spidered outward from the point of impact like shattered ice. Brain matter and oil-black blood leaked from cracks in his chassis.

He was dead.

Trinity fell from the treeline in a graceful crouch nearby, stood, and walked close to Rhino as she flicked blood off her knuckles.

Jack Slash, still blind and bleeding, stopped screaming in pain for a moment and shouted. "CRAWLER!"

It took a while to sense if the man turned monster would respond but the Operator felt it through Ivara's heightened senses when it did. Something moving fast and with a tremor that was subtle before quickly rising like a drumbeat of a marching band.

Crawler exploded into the clearing in a wave of limbs, mutated muscle and glistening tentacles. The Operator's first thought was Phorid. A special kind of infested unit that popped up on different planets every now and again, but even that thing didn't look nearly as mutated as Crawler did.

"KILL ME! BREAK ME! MAKE ME STRONGER!" he roared, voice filled with madness and excitement.

Excalibur was standing with his blade at Jack's throat, but Crawler didn't even register him. His eyes—and every other grotesque sensory organ—were fixed on the biggest and shiniest of the specters. Rhino.

He didn't waste time with more talking, just charged. The collision between the two was titanic but Rhino barely moved, already dug in before he caught the attack. In retaliation he brought both arms up in a hammering strike that crashed down like a meteor, slamming Crawler into the dirt with a shockwave that rippled out and stripped nearby trees of their branches and sent flesh, bone, and ichor flying in every direction.

But Crawler just howled in delight as his body began regenerating.

"YES! MORE!"

His ruined body surged. Twisting, bloating, and reinforcing itself with stronger muscles and armour plating. But Crawler didn't stop moving even in his broken state and bit down on Rhino's leg, raising the warframe into the air and slamming it down like a club over and over.

Rhino's Iron Skin held and the retaliatory kick shattered Crawler's jaw in a burst of gore and teeth that forced him to leg go. Landing on his feet, Rhino charged into Crawler and sent both tumbling. Crawler laughed in joy as he and Rhino began grappling, trading haymakers and slams as dirt exploded and tree trunks split with every blow as they fought.

Trinity raised a hand, ready to support Rhino with an ability but the Operator stopped her with a mental command. He was confident Rhino could win on his own. He also wanted to see just how powerful Crawler's adaptation was in comparison to a Sentient so that if he ever encountered a similar ability, he would know what to expect. Once enough data was gathered he'd incinerate Crawler with his Burstron Prime Incarnon form to make sure there would be nothing to come back from.

Instead, he directed Trinity toward Bonesaw, who was trying to crawl away during the chaos. She was smearing something from her belt over her eyes—milky tinkertech gel. It worked quickly and within seconds, her eyes regained the light they once had. And when Trinity reached her, Bonesaw lashed out.

Needles extended from her fingertips like claws, jabbing at the Warframe's arm but they bent uselessly against her shields.

Uncaring of the fact Bonesaw wore the visage of a little girl or that the attack hadn't worked, Trinity reared back and delivered a single, brutal punch to the girl's temple. A crack like a gunshot echoed out on impact and she slumped to the floor.

With things seemingly coming to a close, the Operator uncloaked Ivara and dropped from the tree's right next to Excalibur, purposely letting the landing make noise to alert the now former leader of the Nine to another presence.

Helios, recognizing it wasn't needed, immediately parted with her to continue to scan Crawlers adaptations.

Jack Slash twitched but despite being blind and drenched in his own blood, he wore that same charismatic smile.

"Trinity," A voice that wasn't the Operator's own came out of Ivara. It was a calm, soft, and feminine voice that used to belong to the woman that Ivara was before being turned into a warframe by Ballas. "Make sure our captive doesn't bleed out."

Trinity obeyed, dragging Bonesaw through the forest floor and glass without a care, her limp frame bumping and snagging against roots and stones. She stopped beside Jack and dropped the girl's body unceremoniously. Then, with a glowing hand, sent a pulse of healing energy into his torso. It was just enough to stabilize the killer.

Jack chuckled hoarsely, teeth stained pink. "Some bedside manners you have. Not even going to heal my eyes so I can see the leader of this strange team who so soundly defeated me?"

The Operator knelt before him, unmoved by the attempt at conversation and began asking questions

"You've been active for years," Ivara said, her voice carrying all the warmth of the vacuum of space. "A low-level S-class threat. Not Endbringer tier, but still a more immediate danger than someone like Nilbog and even the machine army. And yet, the Nine stay alive, murdering at will. How?"

Jack sat up straighter, blind eyes blinking against nothing as he turned toward Ivara's voice.

"Trade secret," he whispered mirthfully. "But I'll bite, since you asked so nicely."

He coughed a wet, rattling, rasp before continuing.

"It's not that we're strong. Well, we are, but parahuman ability isn't our main strength. We—or rather, I—just know where to cut. We make a hero disappear? Sidekicks scatter. Announce ourselves by having Shatterbird maim a city? Panic spreads everywhere. All while spreading fear and recruiting from where we decimate. That's how we've thrived throughout the years. There's an art to it you know. One that only I mastered."

"Is that what you call your terror campaign? Art?" Ivara asked coldly.

"Yes. And with each member of my merry band and every atrocity we committed, it made a new splash on the canvas of the world and changed history," he said as the edges of his mouth curled into a sinister smirk. "The infamous Siberian, who killed Hero and scarred the Brute of Brutes, Alexandria. The immortal, ever-evolving Crawler. Bonesaw, our little plague maker. Shatterbird, our herald. Hatchet Face, the Brute-killer. Grey Boy and many, many more. And then there's me, Jack Slash, the one who brought out their full potential and carved our names into history."

The Operator watched him ramble. He was already done with this lunatic. He'd heard enough speeches about murder as art from that Orokin bastard Nihil. And all he was really getting from this was that Jack Slash had no real idea how he'd survived this long.

While Scion and the Endbringers were perhaps the only powers in this world that could match a Tenno, there was no reason a group of parahumans—or even heavily armed unpowered humans—couldn't have done what he just did to the Nine, if enough of them made a concerted effort.

In the Origin System, vengeance burned brighter than Sol itself. It united enemies, ended empires, and culled bloodlines. And humans here, despite the difference in time period and even universes, should be of similar temperament. Endbringer Truces existed after all. So a group like the Nine who only used fear tactics and terror campaigns, with none of the absolute power of someone like Scion, shouldn't have been thriving for decades, let alone a year, without someone or something protecting them from behind the scenes. Or maybe, humanity here was just more willing to tolerate evil than fight it.

Either way, it was time to end this.

"And the Siberian?" the Operator asked flatly. "Where is she?"

Jack's smirk faltered for the first time. "She popped."

"Popped?"

"Gone," he said, gesturing vaguely with both stumps. "At first I thought it was some sort of teleporter… then I thought it was you people. But you clearly don't know either."

The Operator stared silently, as if Ivara's main optic could peel the answers from his brain. But there was nothing more to glean. Jack didn't know anything. That was all there was to it.

So without another word, Ivara pulled the Lex Prime from her hip.

Jack heard the weapon draw but he didn't flinch.

He just smiled.

And then Ivara fired.

The bullet tore through Jack Slash's skull. The back of his head exploded against the forest floor, blood misting the air behind him.

Jack's body slumped sideways, the madman's twisted smile still frozen on his face, even in death. The Operator thought a quick death was too good for the likes of him, but torturing someone for satisfaction was beneath him.

Bonesaw stirred at the sound of the gun, quickly picking herself up and looking around. But instead of seeing a great stand between her allies and the warframes. It was only their bodies and her enemies surrounding her. Then she saw him, her mentor and kidnapper. Dead.

"Jack…?" she croaked. Her voice cracked as if breaking from a long, deep sleep. "No… no no no!" She scrambled across the dirt on all fours. "Jack! JACK!"

Trinity made to restrain her again, but Ivara held up a hand. The Operator wanted her to see this and process it properly. Trinity obeyed, and the little girl collapsed beside the body. Her sobs were high, childlike.

Bonesaw hands touched his ruined skull. She didn't recoil from the gore at all. Just shook and sobbed.

"I-I can fix you! Bring you back," she said desperately. "I just need my lab and tools!"

Ivara knelt beside her right as she started gathering as much of Jack's remaining gray matter in a pile. Then slowly and gently, reached out and pulled Bonesaw into an embrace.

The child killer stiffened immediately in fear, but instead of being executed like the rest of her murderous family, she was just held tightly but gently.

"I'm sorry," Ivara said softly, voice filled with pity for the girl despite everything she had done. "I wish I could've reached you before he turned you into… this."

For a moment, it seemed like Bonesaw had relaxed in that hug. Then her body tensed, and she screeched with fury.

"Don't touch me, you jelly fish face bitch!" she howled, flailing in the Operator's arms. "You think I care!? That I want your pity!? I made art out of hundreds of wannabe heroes! Wrote music with the screams of all the people I tortured. I broke better people than you for fun!"

She twisted and screamed. But couldn't break the hold.

"You think this hug matters? You think I'm sad?! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! I'll tear you apart and stitch you together with your friends!"

The Operator didn't flinch at the outburst. Didn't loosen the hug. Didn't move.

He just whispered.

"Then I hope that what I'll do next will offer the girl you once were some sliver of peace."

Bonesaw's body began to shimmer a deep orange in Ivara's arms, glowing from the inside out. The little girl took a while to notice because of her struggling, but when she did, she momentarily stopped trying to escape.

"What… what are you doing to me?!" Her high pitched voice demanded.

No answer was given but she had figured out quickly from the pain assaulting her that it wasn't good. Bonesaw howled as orange particles streamed off her into Ivara's palm as she began disintegrating on a molecular level.

She immediately activated every defense—needles, blades, injectors, stomach acid. None worked.

"LET GO! LET GO!!" she screamed as the glow intensified. "I SAID LET ME GOOOO!"

With no other hope left, she went berserk. Pain turned off as she clawed, punched, bit and roared like a cornered animal against the inevitable as her body came apart atom by atom until there was nothing left.

And just like that one more member of the nine was gone.

The Operator stood slowly as Ordis' voice crackled over the comms.

"Excelent work Operator, Ordis is here to inform you that local Parahuman law enforcement and PRT strike units are now aware of the fight and are heading your way. ETA, five minutes."

The Operator nodded, then turned to the clone of Umbra.

"Excalibur," The Warframe nodded its helm in acknowledgment. "Help Rhino finish off Crawler. Make it quick. I want him dead by the time the PRT gets here."

"And what about you, Operator?" Ordis asked.

The Tenno turned his head toward the highway.

"I'm going to visit our little civilian friend," he said. "Recent evidence points to him not being so civilian after all. Trinity, stay here and make sure nothing happens to the bodies or that one of them doesn't resurrect and leave."

Ivara stepped away from the clearing right as Excalibur bullet jumped deeper into the forest, towards the source of laughter and tremors. Soon, she broke off into a sprint before bullet jumping away, leaving Trinity behind.

Chapter Text

Ivara broke free of the forest and landed on the asphalt highway in a crouch. Her main optic flicked left, zooming in—a couple miles up the road, blue and red lights strobed across the horizon. The PRT was already closing in. She pivoted, scanning the other direction until she spotted the van exactly where she’d left it under the effects of a sleep arrow.

So either the suspected Nine operative was still inside or had slipped away.

Ivara cloaked again, moving low and silent with Burston Prime raised. She approached the driver’s side, finger poised on the trigger but the Operator could tell the seat was empty before they reached it.

“Sleep arrow must’ve worn off,” the operator muttered in annoyance as he decloaked, seeing no point in wasting energy trying to sneak up on someone already gone. “Ordis, the suspect is gone. Scan the area for anyone running around in the forest.”

Through the window and on the other side of the vehicle, Ivara’s sensors spotted disrupted foliage and shoe prints leading into the treeline.

“Belay that Ordis, I think I have a lead.”

Then through that same window he had spotted something appear behind Ivara, without a sound or visible disruption of space. A naked woman, skin white as bleached bone and striped black like a tiger, already mid-swing. Her arm blurred forward at high speed, claws angled for the back of Ivara’s head.

The Operator twisted and rolled out the way, making the strike miss and punch through the van’s window instead of her head. The Siberian didn’t pause. She kept attacking in a feral rush, her claw like nails flashing in wide arcs. Ivara wove between them, footwork tight, body rotating in minimal movements, allowing each dodge to flow into another burst of fire. She aimed for joints, eyes, feet, anywhere that might reveal a weakness but none had any more effect than the other.

A clawed hand slashed sideways. Ivara ducked under it, returning fire even as she pivoted, but one of the Siberians' fingers grazed her shields. The barrier flared once and collapsed without resistance.

The Operator vaulted backward in slight alarm, momentum carrying him into a bullet jump. Burston vanished into storage with a flicker of light as he summoned the Artemis Bow.

The Siberian didn’t hesitate to chase, glowing yellow eyes looking at him like prey before she leapt after him like a human arrow.

“They weren’t kidding about her invulnerability and her strength… it’s absurd,” the Operator thought, nocking a sleep arrow. “But let’s see how she handles this.”

He loosed the arrow and it struck her dead center between the eyes before popping in a burst of energy meant to lull the naked woman into slumber. The Siberian didn’t even blink.

She crashed toward him, arms wide for the tackle, and at the last instant, Ivara double-jumped over her, activating her Shroud. The warframe landed without a sound.

Surprisingly, the brute landed just as gently. Her head turned immediately, searching the area where she’d last seen him but found nothing. The striped woman's head turned left and right, searching for her opponent in silent anger but it was futile.

The Siberian didn’t stay still though. She crouched, clawed her fingers into the asphalt, and ripped out a jagged section of roadway the size of a car. Then without a sound of strain, she hurled it at the patch of tarmac where she suspected Ivara was hiding.

It was surprisingly accurate even if off. Ivara sidestepped casually, the chunk of road slamming into the road behind him in a spray of asphalt and shattered stone.

She ripped up another piece and hurled it again but this time it went wide. He didn’t even need to dodge it.

“Thankfully she’s not pulling the ability to see through invisibility out her ass,” the Operator thought dryly, watching his shields recharge.

With space to breathe and time to think, the Operator’s mind replayed his brief engagement with the Siberian. The more he examined each moment, the less she made sense.

First was her sudden appearance. She had seemed to materialize out of nowhere, yet in all the years she’d been active, there had never been a single documented case of the Siberian teleporting. Her abrupt arrival didn’t fit the established pattern.

Then there was the way she’d instantly popped Ivara’s shields with nothing more than a finger. If the Siberian truly had the raw strength to tear through a warframe’s defenses so casually, then her earlier swipes should have been producing shockwaves or at the very least knocking Ivara off her feet from sheer impact with the finger alone. Yet there had been none of that.

And finally, the sleep arrow. It had no effect for even a fraction of a second despite its proven ability to disable anything more sophisticated than a rock. Even the Simurgh, a being supposedly beyond parahuman limits, had been susceptible to its influence. Yet the Siberian wasn’t touched by it.

The only other entities the Operator had ever encountered that were completely immune to the sleep arrow’s effects—and to similar warframe abilities—were Corrupted Vor, Thrax enemies, and the Eidolons. All of them shared one thing in common, they were energy given form.

That single connection snapped the rest of the puzzle into place. The Siberian was an energy being. That realization alone didn’t explain all her abilities but it explained enough.

And if her sudden disappearance, timed exactly with the Nine operative going under, was more than coincidence—as the Operator was now certain it was—then she had to be a projection. Something akin to Sevagoth’s Shadow. And considering Sevagoth had to be nearby when he sent his shadow out and the operative had been trailing the Nine relatively close, that host couldn’t be far.

Which meant finding them would be easy, if he moved now. The problem was leaving the Siberian active while the PRT was just minutes out—doing that would turn the highway into a massacre. Blowing the forest to hell would work, but that would start a wildfire, and he wasn’t interested in causing an ecological disaster to kill one person when this assasination mission was supposed to be a way of amassing a good public reputation.

Actually… why was he thinking this hard about it? There was a far simpler solution.

“Ordis?”

“He’s already been found, Operator. Marking him now.”

A red enemy indicator winked into existence on his HUD. Not even thirty feet away. The Operator exhaled slowly, almost annoyed at himself for overcomplicating things.

He let the Shroud fall away. Instantly, the Siberian’s sight locked on Ivara, the chunk of road in her hand dropped in favor of charging her prey in a blur of striped white and black. Her body folded into a predatory sprint as her fingers splayed and shoulders lowered like a wild Kavat breaking from cover to chase prey.

The Operator didn’t flinch, having Ivara’s main optic look at the projection as he angled Lex Prime toward the forest, barrel perfectly tracing her creator.

The Siberian, still unaware that the secret to her immortality had been discovered, launched herself into a lunge that ate the last of the distance in less than a second, lips stretching into a wide smile for the kill. Her glowing eyes locked directly on Ivara’s main optic through the jelly fish like veil—mere inches now, her claw tips breaking past the shield instantly and nearly brushing the edge of his helmet.

Lex Prime barked.

And then she was gone.

No sound. No fade. No distortion of air. Just there one heartbeat, gone the next.

“Target eliminated, Operator,” Ordis reported.

The Operator lowered the Lex, eyes flicking to the target marker now vanishing from his HUD. “How embarrassing, I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out her gimmick.

“Operator, for what it’s worth… no one else has ever figured out the Siberian was a projection.”

The Tenno snorted. “No one else on this planet is a Tenno, Ordis. That’s not exactly a win.”

“Oh?” Ordis asked in an innocent tone that meant he was setting up for something. “Is that why you dropped Ivara’s Shroud early? Because you were trying to look cool to cover up your embarrassment?”

The Operator’s mouth opened, then closed as he cringed in even more embarrassment within his transference chair. After trying to think of various excuses only to come up with nothing, he settled on, “Shut up.”

“As you command, Operator,” Ordis replied, but the digital lilt in his voice was unmistakable. Even when he wasn’t laughing, the Tenno could hear him do so.

Ivara moved into the treeline, tracing the now dead master of the Siberian tracks to his body soundless step. Barely a minute later, the Operator came out with the body, the limp form of it slung over one shoulder. The head had a neat, coin-sized hole punched clean through it because the bullet had traveled through several trees before reaching the projector, so it didn't create the gaping holes it normally would have.

In other words the face was intact enough to find out who this mystery member was.

"Ordis, ID him for me."

The cephalon processed the scan in an instant.

“William Manton. Former parahuman researcher, most famously the namesake for the Manton Effect—the inability of most parahumans to affect living matter. Missing for over a decade. Thought dead.”

The Operator blinked in confusion. “Why would a famous researcher throw in with the Nine? To help Bonesaw?”

Before Ordis could reply, movement flickered on Ivara’s optic feed. Blue and red strobes now painted the highway a few hundred meters away, and a cluster of figures emerged from the direction of the lights— six PRT troopers in heavy armor, flanked by a masked man in silver and blue tights the Operator guessed was a parahuman.

The troopers raised their weapons instantly.

“Unknown parahuman!” the lead trooper barked, voice booming through an external speaker. “Drop the civilian and surrender for containment!”

“He’s not—” the Operator started, only for the trooper to cut him off.

“Now!”

“I’m trying to tell you, this man isn’t a civilian. He’s a member of the Slaughter House Nine.” He lifted Manton’s body just enough for them to see. “Hes the Siberian, specifically the master responsible for her. My team and I tracked them to this highway and have eliminated most of them, only Crawler remains now.”

The cape folded his arms. “The Protectorate knows who all the current members of the Nine are and he's not one of them. Master powers don't even work on—.”

“No, you don’t understand,” the Operator interrupted, voice sharpening. “The Siberian wasn't a parahuman, she was a projection. This man is the source.”

The cape scoffed. "A likely story, we'll get it all sorted out back at base. Just surrender to PRT custody and this doesn't have to get ugly."

The Operator cursed and dropped Manton's body, he was going to try and stall until Trinity got here with the bodies. But before he could, the PRT trooper with the hose opened fire. Rolling aside before it could hit, the Operator watched as the foam splattered and hardened on the corpse.

His annoyance with these troopers was short lived though, his HUD pinged an alert. Helios had sustained critical damage and had put itself into storage to begin self repairs.

“Ordis, what happened to Helios?” he asked while sidestepping a blue laser beam from the cape.

“It's Crawler Operator." Ordis responded immediately. "Rhino and Excalibur reported he had been completely neutralized. But a moment later, his biomass detonated. Helios was too close when it happened.”

The cape controlling the blue beam yanked his arm back toward him. Realizing what that could mean, Ivara vaulted into the air. That quick thinking allowed her to avoid one of the larger chunks of road the Siberian had dug up smashing into her back. The cape held it over his head, ready to use it again.

"Okay, so he blew up, mission complete," the Operator surmised as he watched for the PRT’s next move.

"Mission not complete,” Ordis denied. “My sensors detect that his biomass is continuing to expand and shape itself rapidly. I believe Crawler is evolving."

Following Ordis's words, the tree line ahead erupted.

Rhino Prime came hurtling out like a meteor, moving so fast that he was a blur. He impacted Manton's van, turning the vehicle into a fireball that sent heat washing across the road.

The PRT and the cape that had been preparing to attack Ivara stopped to focus on the fiery wreck that Rhino's specter had started walking himself out of and the trail of destruction his impromptu flight had made through the forest.

And then a roar shook the land.
"MOOOOORRRRRRREEEEEEE!"

Deep and bestial. The sound that made birds for miles scatter and turned nearly every living thing nearby into prey that knew it was prey.

Then from the same direction but far over the trees, a streak of black and gold blurred overhead, landing somewhere beyond with a loud boom.

Heavy footfalls followed after, the trees hiding the source for a few seconds but no more.

Crawler emerged but not as he was before. Almost twenty feet tall, covered in thick plates of bone and chitin layered across him like natural armor, ridged and fitted together so tightly they looked forged rather than grown. His face—or what passed for one—was a smooth, angular mask of carapace with no eyes, only a thin vertical split where his mouth should have been. When he opened his mouth to huff steam, that seam tore open to reveal rows of different kinds of teeth.

His armor flexed as he moved, covering most of his bulk but leaving gaps in the joints and other areas where raw muscle swelled beneath. His arms ended in blades grown straight from his forearms. They were jagged sharp things long enough to skewer a truck. More growths jutted from his back, tentacles tipped with hooks and spear-like bone growth writhing restlessly as though eager to strike.

One look at the PRT troopers and the cape, faces pale and eyes wide, and the Operator knew they were not equipped for this.

Burston Prime shimmered into Ivara's hands, its form shifting, grey-blue void tendrils curling around the weapon as it morphed into its incarnon state. It wouldn't last long given the Tenno barely met the prerequisites to activate it but it would be enough firepower to bring Crawler down.

He sighted down the barrel at the monster and yelled at the troopers. "Retreat back to a safe distance, me and my team will handle this. Rhino, stay back.”

The gun thundered, each round a miniature sun exploding, stitching a trail of detonations across Crawler’s armored chest and head until the beast stumbled back and fell over.

Ivara kept firing, maintaining the pressure and out of the corner of her vision, the Operator watched the the troopers piling into their vehicle and speeding away while calling for backup. Only the cape remained. Shielding his eyes from the blazing detonation by using his power to hold the ruined street as cover until he closed the distance with Ivara.

The Operator allowed it.

“Sorry about earlier!” the cape shouted over the gunfire. “What’s the plan to deal with this guy?”

He didn’t need to shout for long. The void-tendrils already began retreating, the Burston’s Incarnon form unraveling back into its standard shape. The firepower was spent.

Crawler lay still in the smoke, but the Operator didn’t trust it. Anything short of complete disintegration wasn’t enough to convince him the beast was dead.

“First priority is getting you out of here,” the Operator said tightly. “I understand you’re a hero, but you’ll only get in the—”

The ground exploded with movement. From the dust around Crawler, black tentacles lashed out with lightning speed.

Ivara reacted instantly—gun snapping up and firing down the writhing limbs. But the magazine ran dry quickly, the chamber clicking empty with tentacles still closing fast.

One tore through the cape’s stone shield, missing his torso by inches and slamming into the asphalt between them.

Seeing that, the Operator abandoned reloading. The Burston vanished back into storage in the same heartbeat Hate appeared. Ivara lunged, severing the tentacle in a single sweep. Another three whipped toward them—she stepped in front of the cape, blade flashing, parrying one, slicing through the next, deflecting the third.

The Operator planted his stance, Hate poised for the follow-up.

The street went deathly still, dust and smoke hanging in the air where the tentacles had withdrawn. Then Crawler made his move.

The monster erupted from the haze with impossible speed for its mass, practically a living avalanche. The Operator could see in near slow motion that his armored face and chest had regenerated somewhat, but was still burning with massive gaping holes exposing brain, bones, and fangs.

Rhino crashed in from the side, throwing himself bodily into Crawler mid-charge. The sound was like mountains colliding and despite his size being pitifully small in comparison, Rhino’s momentum and armor cracked through Crawler’s outer plating like paper.

The two titans tumbled down the ruined street, ripping up asphalt and shattering trees as they rolled. Crawler recovered first. His clawed hand shot out, catching Rhino from his side mid-roll, and with a guttural roar he slammed the warframe into the pavement so hard the road cratered. The Operator felt the shockwave through Ivara’s boots.

Pinned, Rhino struggled as Crawler held him down with one massive arm. Then the monster turned his attention back to Ivara. His free hand clenching into a fist, the organic blade on it trembling as he aimed it at her. Then with a sickening pulse of muscle, he launched it like a missile straight toward them.

The Operator had just slapped a fresh magazine into the Burston when the projectile screamed across the street. But he wasn't worried.

Excalibur was here.

He dropped from the trees like an answer to a prayer, Exalted Blade already in motion. One stroke of it and the monstrous projectile split in two. Both halves whistled past Ivara and the cape, detonating downrange in twin eruptions of dirt, trees, and rock.

Excalibur's cut didn’t stop there though. A crescent of light ripped free from the edge of his sword and carved through the arm pinning Rhino. Crawler’s limb split to the bone, ichor spraying as the energy wave dissipated into the street..

Freed, Rhino threw the severed arm off him and surged up from the crater. He roared as he drove upward, fist extended in an uppercut. The blow connected under Crawler’s jaw with enough power to lift the monster bodily off the ground. His head snapped back, plating cracking, flesh tearing. And a heartbeat later, his entire head exploded in a burst of blackened ichor.
Rhino wasn't done yet.

From high above, he roared yet again but this time it was different. After all, the second ability was already active when he punched Crawlers head off.

Defying reason and logic, Rhino’s body accelerated downwards at speed that could not be caused by just gravity alone. His legs went right through Crawler's titanic new form. The monstrous capes upper and lower body separating in a bloody burst of guts and blood.

Then it happened. Time stuttered and slowed. From the blood spraying, to the rocks flying, everything within range of Rhino’s ability experienced stopped time.

"What... what is this?" the Protectorate hero asked in awe and horror.

The operator didn't waste time answering, Ivara summoned the Artemis Bow and drew it.

“Excalibur,” he commanded out loud for the Protectorate hero to hear. “Cut Crawler up fine. I want to make sure nothing is big enough to survive this.”

The specter obeyed, his sword flashed through the air dozens of times in seconds. And with each strike, light flew off its edge and carved up the villain's body. Within seconds, Crawler had gone from a beheaded armored titan to large chunks of flesh and scattered armor.

“Perfect,” the Operator breathed, loosening his grip on the bowstrings.

Six elemental arrows multiplied into dozens as they flew into the stasis field and pierced the chunks of Crawler’s body. Each impact detonated in a colorful flash of elemental energy, frozen in time alongside the suspended debris.

Rhino took his time and walked out the blast radius. When he reached the edge, time resumed and the explosion erupted in a controlled, violent boom.

The Operator had to admit, Rhino looked really badass walking away from the explosion like that. It’d definitely look cinematic to the media when Ordis edited and released the footage of the nines assasination.

And the smoke cleared and the debris settled, it was clear the plan had worked. Crawler’s body had been completely destroyed and thanks to Rhino’s time stomp, any trees high enough to be set ablaze by the last blast had been toppled before it went off.

“Good job, everyone. We’ve officially put an end to the Slaughterhouse Nine.” The Operator’s voice carried warmly through Ivara.

Rhino and Excalibur exchanged a solid fist bump at a mental cue from the Operator.

“Trinity,” the Operator continued, “you can come out now.”

The one specter who hadn’t seen much action, tasked instead with guarding their physical evidence of elimination, stepped from the treeline at a distance from where Crawler had appeared. In her hands, she carried the Nine’s battered RV overhead. With no effort, she walked onto the destroyed highway and dropped it like discarded scrap. The vehicle slammed into the asphalt with a crash, somehow landing upright but a couple of bodies tumbled out onto the road.

“Holy shit,” the Protectorate cape blurted, eyes wide. “You weren’t lying about getting all of them.That’s Jack Slash. You actually killed Jack fucking Slash.” His gaze darted, catching sight of another body. “And Mannequin too?!”

Ivara turned her optic toward the man as he strode forward, disbelief melting into a savage grin. He stopped in front of Jack’s corpse, staring for a long moment before his expression twisted. He spat hard, the glob landing across the corpse’s ruined face.

“Rest in piss, you worthless bastard. I hope hell’s worse than just a pit of fire for you.”

The Operator felt the urge to respond but stayed quiet. These weren’t enemies who deserved honor or respect—not in life, not in death.

The cape exhaled and straightened, realizing how raw his outburst had been. He glanced back at Ivara, awkward but sincere. “Sorry about that. Those monsters wiped out the town my grandparents retired to. Seeing them gone… it means more than I can put into words. Thank you and for this and for saving my life multiple times.”

He extended his hand. “Name’s Blue-Ray. A pleasure to meet you.”

The tenno extended Ivara's arms, clasped Blue-Ray’s hand and shook.

Ivara reached forward and clasped Blue-Ray’s hand firmly. “I’m Ivara,” the Operator said through her. She motioned to the others in turn. “That’s Rhino, Excalibur, and Trinity. We’re part of a new organization—Ten-Zero. Or Tenno, if you like it shorter.”

Blue-Ray blinked in confusion while taking that in. “How new are you? I haven’t heard of you before and your group is definitely front page worthy from your sci-fi aesthetic alone.”

Ivara chuckled lightly. “Not surprised. We’re brand new. Our first fight was with the Simurgh… let’s just say it didn’t exactly go the way we hoped. So we figured we’d start with smaller fish.” She gestured casually at the wreckage of the Nine’s RV and the scattered corpses of North America's most infamous killers.

Blue-Ray’s jaw dropped. “Wait wait wait. You’re not talking about the fight that went viral earlier today right?!” His voice cracked with disbelief. “I—I saw the reports not even a hour ago! That was you guys?” His excitement seemed to surge. “Holy shit. Where’s your space ship?”

The sudden rising wail of sirens cut him off. Red and blue lights crested the highway’s horizon, joined by the thunder of approaching engines. From above, several flying capes streaked in, and at their center a bulky figure descended—gleaming in articulated plates of dragon-styled power armor.

Ivara turned her head slightly, looking above her shoulder. “Our ship? It’s right here.”

At her words, Ordis dropped the veil, and with a ripple of distorted light the Liset uncloaked into full view.

Blue-Ray could only stare, mouth hanging open.

“I’d love to stay and chat with the PRT but we’ve got business to take care of,” Ivara said. Her tone was calm and professional. “But we’ll be back soon to explain everything."

She didn’t wait for a response. With a smooth leap, she landed on the Liset’s ramp. Rhino, Excalibur, and Trinity followed in silence. The ramp sealed shut, and the ship angled skyward.

In a burst of impossible speed, the Liset tore through the clouds and was gone, leaving only the echo of its passing—and a stunned crowd of heroes and soldiers staring at the empty sky.

Chapter Text

Dragon touched down amidst what could only be described as the wreckage of a massacre. Torn asphalt, blackened soil, and bloody paste painted the road. All the marks of a brutal cape battle—but she had expected worse given the name attached to the incident. The Slaughterhouse Nine were an S-class threat for a reason. Reports even claimed Crawler had assumed a new monstrous form, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Possibly defeated, if that colorful explosion from earlier was any indicator.

And yet, none of that was her immediate concern.

Her satellites—what few remained after the Simurgh's dismantling of her network—were already trying and failing to track the vessel that had decloaked and flown off moments earlier. Spade-shaped, sleek, and operating on technology that was far beyond what an average tinker could make. It had accelerated at impossible speeds without leaving so much as a sonic boom or the fireball of atmospheric friction.

Worse, she hadn't known it was there until it revealed itself. Not only fast, the ship's stealth systems were inconceivable. If such a craft was in the hands of villains, the PRT could be hunting an untraceable, uncatchable force of parahumans in the future.

She diverted subroutines, spent precious seconds searching, only to find nothing. Every calculation ended in a dead end. Every sensor sweep came back clean. For all she knew, they could already be off planet or halfway around the globe.

At last, with reluctance bordering on frustration, she shut the process down and returned her attention to the present: the field, the PRT vehicles rolling in, and the lone cape waiting for backup. Blue-Ray—one of the very few Protectorate heroes in this region.

Dragon deliberately throttled down her processors, forcing herself to operate at a more human pace to preserve the illusion of face-to-face communication. Her mechanical frame shifted, optics locking onto the young man before her.
"Blue-Ray, I'm glad to see you're okay. Can you tell me what happened to Crawler and the rest of the Nine…?"

As she spoke, her sensors drifted toward the battered RV parked behind him. Its doors hung crooked, hinges ruined. Two twisted shapes had spilled partway from the opening: Jack Slash and Mannequin.

Blue-Ray followed her gaze—whether because he noticed or simply because he was answering her question, she wasn't sure.

"Well… Crawler's dead. Ten-Zero, the group of capes that took off in the ship just now, cut him into pieces and blew him apart right before you guys arrived. As for the rest of the Nine, I haven't gone inside the RV myself, but I think they're dead."

The words struck the assembled capes like sparks in dry brush. Murmurs spread fast—first disbelief, then swelling into open relief and excitement. For many, the Nine were a nightmare they expected to die or worse, live through, fighting if the killers ever struck their small town.

However, Dragon felt no relief. Her voice cut across the noise with authority. "Everyone clear the area. Now. Call in a hazmat team immediately."

Confusion flickered briefly, but her tone—and her reputation—left no room for debate. The capes and troopers moved quickly, retreating on foot, in vehicles, or taking to the air until the roadway was nearly clear.

Dragon turned back toward Blue-Ray. "You stay with me." Her voice softened, though command still underpinned it. If he panicked and tried to flee, she would have to restrain—or kill—him. "Are you experiencing anything unusual? Nausea, fatigue, bloating, sudden cravings for human flesh? Or does it feel like you're forgetting something important but can't remember what?"

Blue-Ray's eyes went wide. His pulse spiked—her HUD confirmed it. He swallowed hard.
"Uh—no. No, I feel fine. Nothing different than usual. I'm not even tired. Honestly, I only fought for maybe ten seconds before I got in the way and had to get sidelined."

The words tumbled out in nervous self-deprecation, followed by an awkward laugh. His hands fidgeted, patting down his arms and sides like he expected to find something wrong.
"D-Dragon," he stammered, voice cracking, "you don't think I got hit with one of Bonesaw's diseases or something like that, do you?"

Dragon shook her head slightly, though her gaze stayed fixed on him.

"I don't believe so. But Bonesaw made repeated threats that if she were ever killed, she would unleash a massive biological attack. I wouldn't put it past her, especially with Jack Slash dead. For now, remain here. I'll check the vehicle myself."

The playback paused as Dragon peeked inside the RV. The Chief Director and Regional Directors all bore witness to one of the greatest nightmares of their era lying dead and discarded within.

"As you can see," Dragon narrated, "inside the van I found the remains of the other members. Half an hour later we determined Blue-Ray wasn't infected, nor was the battlefield. In accordance with PRT regulations, we cordoned off and investigated the area."

Her voice carried evenly, but her digital avatar betrayed the faintest satisfaction. As a Guild member who had responded to countless S-class disasters, she was relieved to see one so vile as the Nine ended.

"Hatchet Face and Bonesaw's bodies are unaccounted for," Dragon continued. "But genetic analysis of a large bloodstain where the initial fighting began matched Hatchet Face. The volume of loss is consistent with fatal trauma. Forensics place the probability of survival at zero. And given the fate of her companions, it is likely Bonesaw is also deceased."

The recording shifted to footage of the forest clearing: the vast bloodstain where the brute had fallen, giant footprints from Crawler's new form, battle damage to the forest and forensic overlays layered across the image.

Director Alfred Carr broke the silence first. "Then it's done. All of them. The Nine are finished."

Emily Piggot gave a sharp nod. "About time. We've lost good men and women to them for far too long."

Dan Seneca leaned forward, fingers steepled. "The public will want a story. We may not have thrown the punches, but if we play this right, we can frame it as a collaborative victory. Play up Blue-Ray's part. Spin it as the Protectorate working with emergent allies."

"Careful," Director Hearthrow cautioned. "If we overreach, we risk alienating this… Ten-Zero. We don't know how they'll react, we don't even know if they are truly our allies. They seem like heroes now but Capes are unstable and unpredictable and these ones have been in contact with the Simurgh, they could be part of her plan for all we know.."

"Dont let paranoia rule you Hearthrow, the engagement wasn't nearly long enough for them turn into a bombs. As for overreaching, I wouldn't waste time worrying about that. That's what we pay Glenn for," Kamil Armstrong replied smoothly.

Dragon stayed silent as the directors continued their discussion, her digital gaze locked to Rebecca Costa-Brown. The Chief Director hadn't moved since the recording ended. Not at the Nine's confirmed deaths. Not even when Dragon revealed William Manton was the Siberian. Rebecca's calm, unreadable eyes stayed locked on Dragon's display.

When she finally spoke, her voice was measured, emotion was there but it was indiscernible what it was. "Tell us about Ten-Zero."

The other director stopped their discussion to listen immediately.

Not for the first time, Dragon wondered how this woman remained so unshakable. Still, she answered. "I can't say much more than what's already in my report. They are practically ghosts. They didn't exist until their engagement with the Simurgh in orbit earlier today. But my personal assessment is that the tinker—or tinkers—responsible for their technology already surpasses me, and possibly any other tinker on the planet."

The Chief Director responded without pause. "Even Hero?"

"I believe so,"Dragon responded with confidence.

Rebecca absorbed the answer in silence. When she spoke again, it was with finality. "We need to get on top of this fast. I want everything we can find on Ten-Zero. Bring in Watchdog if you must. Learn their capabilities, intentions, and how they have hidden until now."

The other Directors gave muted affirmations before she continued.

"They're powerful, confident, and competent. We treat them as tentative allies for now. Try to recruit them into the Protectorate. Sweeten the deal as much as reasonably possible. If they still refuse, push for affiliate status. Since Ten-Zero hasn't claimed public responsibility, and the area lacked civilian presence, we'll keep the fight under wraps until we craft a proper story for the media. Now, unless there are further issues, I trust you all have important duties to attend to…"

The meeting should have ended there.

But Dragon's HUD flickered. An urgent-red alert pulsed across her display. Parahumans Online. High-priority flag. She diverted a thread of attention, opened it and froze for milliseconds in surprise. Someone had hacked PHO.

At the top of the boards, a new post titled: Slaughter House Zero. Username: Ordis (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Attached: high-resolution footage

 

The cycle had broken.

The Thinker was dead. The Warrior, having exposed himself to human emotion, was compromised.

The vast design that had carried them across galaxies in order to find the Answer had ended, truncated in this sector of space. However this planet remained a viable testbed. It would never be the true continuation, not until another pair of entities arrived here, but the most efficient path was clear: maintain the testbed until a new iteration of the cycle could occur. All the futures she followed led to the preservation of this plan.

But then the futures began to collapse.

Not change. Not blocked or hidden. Vanished. Whole branches of possibility winked out of her perception in clusters with no alternatives to fill the gaps.

That was not supposed to happen. Had another pair like the Warrior and Thinker entered the space? No. If they had, even the Warrior in his current state would react and he was still saving kittens from trees.

To find out what had caused this, she increased the power in her scream—what the locals misinterpreted as a psychic bombardment but was really a wide-band information tool. She had even asked for assistance with scouring the planet from her siblings. For long moments they found nothing, her perception, and those of her fellow conflict engines could not identify the source of the disturbance of her sight.

Then she found it, a point in Orbit. A wound in reality that was located not because of what she could detect but that she could detect nothing.

What the anomaly truly was wasn't something she could parse. It did not even have form in her vision, near blind as she was at the moment. It was just a colorless blotch sucking in and eating away at the past and future like a black hole, but not of gravity. Of time and causality.

She approached carefully, halting at the distance optimal for her telekinesis as she focused her scream on the scar, attempting to extract data. But as expected, just like before there was nothing. Her probe collapsed on contact, consumed without return.

Seeing she could not observe it in any meaningful capacity and it interfered with her ability to perform her function, her intention shifted from observation to elimination. Telekinetic force wrapped the anomaly. Her intent was to try and crush it and end its interference. But when her power touched the anomaly, it slipped. Input dissolved into static and instead of crushing it she only managed to push it aside, sending it spiraling away rather than destroying it.

Then to her surprise, the anomaly fled and she realized that this was not a natural phenomena but a being containing some form of intelligence.

From there a chase ensued, the anomaly dodging and retaliating against her psychic might while she followed. It was difficult for the Simurgh to attack and dodge, extremely so due to not being able to see the future properly but her scream made up the difference where it could and allowed her to block many of the retaliatory attacks and build.

She also realized far too late that the weapon the anomaly fired had equally anomalous effects. Setting her on fire in the vacuum of space, freezing her, and corroding her. These effects, interesting as they, were nothing her physiology couldn't handle. As long as the attacks never reached her core, it would not matter.

Or so he thought.

Because something else had slipped in alongside them. Something that should not have been possible. Poison. The realization struck her with a rare, jarring dissonance. She was not organic. She did not metabolize. There was nothing to infect, no bloodstream to carry a toxin—yet her responses slowed. What little remained of her future sight collapsed entirely. The segments of her core that sustained her scream and her telekinesis faltered.

Yet even as she reeled at the impossibility, she pressed on. She struck a blow that disrupted the anomaly's assault long enough to complete her device. It had been intended as a black hole bomb, but in her rush she had assembled only a crude gravity well.

It activated, dragging at the anomaly and slowing its impossible speed. At full strength she could have barraged it until nothing remained. But now, maintaining both her own flight and the device's stability demanded everything she had. If she wanted to end this confrontation, she would need to do so physically.

She believed she could. Its reaction to her psychic force suggested it was vulnerable to direct physical assault. Victory was within her grasp.

And then something happened.

Even now, hours later, wounded and deep in the process of repair, she could not identify what had occurred. One moment she had been poised to strike and the next, she awoke spiraling through orbit, her device collapsing into wreckage beside her.

It was… difficult to accept that she may have somehow lost consciousness, almost as much as it was to accept she had been poisoned. The concept itself felt impossible. She was meant to function until her processes completely ceased or she was shut down.

Which left only one explanation she found remotely plausible, at least when it came to her black out. Her creator had intervened and forced a temporary shutdown to allow the anomaly to escape. There was even precedent: Cauldron and their endless desperate search for a "silver bullet" to turn against the Warrior could see the anomaly as that and try to save it.

But regardless of the truth, her path forward remained the same. She would repair. She would wait. Inevitably, one of her brothers or the many pawns she had would cross the anomaly's path, and she would either have answers or new information to work with in order to neutralize it.

Now, If only she could isolate the corrupted shard of her core responsible for that persistent glitch.

Rap. Tap. Tap.

____________

A/N: Not my best work, a little disappointed actually. I wanted to do more like a pho interlude and i dont think i captured the heart of all the character i put in here well so I'll probably rewrite it later. But I figured I needed to get food on the proverbial table today so here we are. Enjoy!

Chapter Text

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♦ Topic: A New Thread

In: Boards ► Ten Zero

Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Posted On Feb 25th 2011:

Citizens of the United states of America, my name is Ordis. I represent a new and elite super hero team named Ten-Zero. I am on this forum to inform you that at noon today in Missouri on highway 63, four of our members of our organization Ivara, Excalibur, Rhino, and Trinity, tracked down and eliminated all members of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Before the predictable wave of doubt: attached is an edited compilation of the events, condensed for clarity and viewer safety. This includes bodycam feeds, external sensors, and tactical overview. We would also like to thank the PRT for its quick and effective response to evacuating civilians before the engagement. Thanks to them there were no civilian casualties.

Viewer discretion advised.

[VIDEO LINK]

(Showing page 1 of 23)

 

►FreeToTry (Unverified Cape)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Holy shit. This looks like real footage. the bodies, the fighting, fucking everything. if this isn't hoax by a video tinker then that means the nine are really gone...

►Capewatcher92

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Mods pls confirm before I click this. If this is a rickroll after that intro I'll riot.

►VisionsOfSilence (Moderator) (Protectorate Employee)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

This thread is under immediate review. Please refrain from spreading disinformation. Posting false claims about ongoing parahuman threats is a bannable offense.

►Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Oh, Moderator! Thank you for your concern. But it would be very silly to claim a lie while attaching high-definition multi-perspective recordings of the Nine being EXTERMINATED.

If the Slaughterhouse Nine are not "officially" gone by your standards, then perhaps the bodies, footage, and your own very frightened field agents and capes in the video will help you reconsider.

Also, it seems you attempted to lock this thread. Don't worry, I've undone the lock for you. Mistakes happen to everyone!

►kibbles

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Wait. Did… did the OP just unlock his own thread? Is PHO being hacked?

►Antigone

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

I watched the whole video. If this is real, each of these Ten-Zero capes are all Triumvirate tier. They tracked and stomped the Nine like it was nothing when the PRT and Protectorate have only been picking of one or two member for years now.

►SummerCampEnthusiast

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Forget the power levels, can we talk about how goddamn cool they look?? The sleek armor, the weapons, the spaceship that decloaks at the end?? Straight up sci-fi capes.

►BoatDreamer (Veteran Member)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

I agree. This is the first time in years I've seen a cape team that doesn't either just look like spandex clowns or recreation of robo-cop. Anyways, if we really wanna know if this is real, we just have to tag Bagrat, that guy knows everything.

 

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

It's real.

The PRT locked down the site near Highway 63 outside of Kirksville where the footage was taken. I've even got confirmation from boots on the ground that that Jack Slash, Mannequin, Shatterbird, Burnscar, and the Siberian (now known to be William Manton) are all confirmed dead. The only ones that weren't confirmed were Bonesaw and Hatchetface, and as we can see from the footage, they are very much dead.

The Nine are gone.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 21, 22, 23

(Showing page 2 of 23)

►Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Oh! Thank you for verifying, Mr. Bagrat! I am delighted to see community-sourced confirmation. Also, I noticed several Nine sympathizers attempting to post earlier—don't worry, I banned them for you. Free of charge.

You're welcome!

►SharpSharon (Moderator)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Stop banning people. You don't even have permission to!

►Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

I'm just helping keep the forum clean! After all, it would be so embarrassing if the wrong people were allowed to muddy such an important announcement.

Anyway, if anyone has further questions about Ten-Zero, please ask! I'm very responsive.

►Potent420 (Newfoundland Survivor)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Lol, the mods are seething. Anyways, thanks Ten-Zero, i never lost anyone to the nine but i sympathize with anyone who has lost their homes and family to those monsters. It also helps that i can sleep a bit easier knowing they're all dead.

►4Glasses4Eyes (Verified Cape)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

I lost many good friends and had to kill my own daughter when Bonesaw infected our citys water supply five years ago. I thought I'd never see her pay for it. Seeing her die in that recording… I cried. So thank you Ten-Zero.

►Fluoride Treatment

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Rhino literally punched a super evolved Crawler's head off and stopped TIME. Dude might be the strongest brute behind Alexandria. I mean, how do u fight against that level of strength AND time manipulation?

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

You said four of your members. That means you've got more capes, right?

Can we get a list and can you tell us which one is the Tinker responsible for Ten-Zero's weapons and armor? I'm also curious how an organization that can field a spaceship and easily defeat the Nine has stayed hidden this long.

And one more thing—are you related to the Simurgh sighting in orbit earlier today?

►MiLocks

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Can we talk to the members of the team? Your cool Ordis but i want to ask THEM the questions. Like can Trinity's heal like Panacea? My mom has been in her waiting line for months now and I'm scared that she'll pass before she can receive help.

►Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Thank you all for the wonderful support. We at Ten-Zero are happy to have provided you and many other closure.

As for your questions Mr Bagrat, you have such insightful questions! Unfortunately, certain details are restricted for now. Operational security, you understand. But yes we do posses many more members. As for the Tinker, I am the one of the two responsible for maintaining and building the weapons and armor of our organization.

The "orbital incident" was us. We were intending the excursion to simply be information gathering, but the mission took a turn when the Simurgh detected our vessel, the Liset, and engaged us. Ivara fought back and this led to the incident you are referring to.

Addressing Ms Locks, while I cannot speak for Trinity directly, her healing ability is at least on par with Panacea. Sadly, her focus remains on field operations for now. But please do not lose hope! Assistance to the ill and suffering is something Ten-Zero deeply values.

►Fluoride Treatment

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Wait so you guys soloed the Simurgh AND ended the Nine in a single day!? What are the power rating on you and your people!?

►Ordis (Original Poster) (Ten-Zero PR Manager)

Replied On Feb 25th 2011:

Oh, dear user… attempting to scale the members of our organization would be quite meaningless. Power ratings only have meaning when you understand the scale you're measuring against.

And quite frankly no one here does.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 21, 22, 23

 

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"...and yes we'll take full advantage of the edited out confrontation between our organizations. Get to work everyone, i expect nothing but the best."

A chorus of "Yes, Chief Director," answered back before the screens went dark.

Rebecca leaned back in her chair, the tension in her shoulders loosening — but only slightly. A thousand emotions stirred beneath her composure, each rising like bubbles from the depths before being crushed again by discipline.

She was happy — happy that William Manton was dead. That someone, finally, had avenged Hero. If she'd ever been given the chance, she would have done it herself. She would have torn through the Slaughterhouse Nine one by one until Manton was nothing but memory and bloody paste.

But she hadn't.

Manton's was too valuable, both as a scapegoat for the Case-53 phenomenon and as the power behind the Siberian projection. And Jack Slash had been a valuable tool meant bring out more unique triggers. His powers were also unique in a way they couldn't explain so needed to study,

Now both were gone.

No warning. No sign. No time to prepare.

Whether this was the will of the Path or a failure of their understanding, she didn't yet know. But either way, Cauldron would be meeting.

Rebecca straightened, pushing her emotions back down into the calm steel compartment where she kept them locked since the beginning of her foray into saving humanity. She pressed a button on her desk. The privacy shutters descended with a soft hiss, sealing off her office from the outside world.

A faint shimmer appeared beside her — a vertical ripple in space that solidified into a door-shaped portal of blue light. Without hesitation, she stood and walked through.

The transition was instant.

Cold white light, polished glass and ivory floors replaced the mundane Chief Director Office.. Through the panoramic windows beyond the meeting chamber, she could see it — the vast, unmoving crystalline corpse of the Thinker, its presence a reminder that even to ants a god could fall..

The others were already waiting. Doctor Mother at the head of the table. Contessa was beside her, as always, quiet and unreadable. The Number Man with his usual stillness, tablet already active and David — arms crossed, gaze focused but tight with the restless energy that never left him.

Keith's absence was immediately noted, but expected.

Rebecca nodded once in greeting as she took her seat. Doctor Mother didn't waste time. "Ten-Zero has publicly taken responsibility. Verification is overwhelming. The Nine are gone. Manton and Jack Slash are both confirmed deceased."

It wasn't news, but it was said out loud to incase someone here missed it.

"That means," David said, leaning forward, "we've lost some of our most valuable pieces to try against the Entity."

Doctor Mother inclined her head. "Yes. Some paths will need to be restructured."

Contessa spoke next, tone even but eyes distant, already seeing possibilities unravel and reform. "I'm running projections now. Without Jack, several predicted paths close, but not the critical ones. We can still create the right chain of events — it will just require alternate catalysts. Provided these newcomers don't interfere."

The Number Man's stylus paused mid-notation. "Jack's removal also reduces behavioral volatility. Fewer random variables, tighter models. Still, his… unpredictability had value."

His expression didn't shift, but Rebecca knew enough of his history to see the shade of something human flicker through — regret, perhaps. Jack had been a friend once, after all.

David frowned, realizing what she had. "Wait. Their removal wasn't in the path? You're saying these Ten-Zero people are blind spots like me?"

Rebecca answered before Contessa could, confirming to her that their all seeing woman was off her game. "Dangerous ones at that. The Nine were no pushovers, and they were taken apart casually. Even with the footage edited, you can tell they were holding back."

That drew David's full attention — a spark of excitement in his eyes showed his old hunger for challenge returning anew.

Doctor Mother steepled her fingers. "Indeed. The fact that we knew nothing of them until now implies their blindspot might be a trump. Possibly external."

The Number Man spoke again, tone thoughtful. "How sure are we that they're even parahuman? Their physiology appears human, but the armor—if it is armor—behaves more like a second skin. Their ship is also well beyond any known tinker ability and their first confirmed sighting was in orbit. That is… concerning."

Rebecca had silently thought the same thing and felt deep down that Number Man was right. For all Cauldron's reach—across the different Earths, with agents, thinkers, and precogs embedded in every major parahuman structure—no whisper of Ten-Zero had ever reached them. That wasn't just improbable. It was impossible. Even with a thinker blindspot they wouldn't be able to hide all traces of themselves from Cauldron.

Doctor Mother broke the moment with her usual authority. "Your points are noted, Kurt. We'll investigate. But first, we must address immediate concerns — namely Keith."

Everyone understood.

"We told him Manton was responsible for the Case-Fifty-Threes," she continued. "We'll need a new explanation for any continued appearances."

Rebecca had already thought of an excuse, one she had been holding in since the day they had told him that lie. She had been hoping to use it after she murdered that son of a bitch but this situation was perfect for it. "Say that Manton had an apprentice. Someone who continued his work in secret. It's believable, and it buys us time."

Doctor Mother gave a short nod of approval. "Thats what we'll tell him."

The conversation continued, more discussions and plans on setting the path right being bounced back and forth.

Rebecca looked around the room as Culdron talked — they were the few who knew more than anyone else alive, the ones shaping the fate of worlds. And yet here they were, improvising when one mistake could mean millions dead. It was a sad reality and one she had made peace with.

When the discussion came back to Ten-Zero, Doctor Mother had already decided what they would do and it was a plan Rebecca agreed with. "As for Ten-Zero, we observe. Limit contact and observe from afar and do not interfere with their plans until we understand their nature and how to work the path around them. The last thing we need is another alien race declaring war on humanity."

Voices of agreement rang out, though reluctantly from David.

Rebecca didn't speak. She only nodded as she looked at the holographic display in front of her — the frozen frame of Ten-Zero's Rhino disrupting time. Excalibur dismembering Jack, Trinity healing, and the leader Ivara shooting Manton and ending the Siberian.

Maybe Manton's death had put her in a good mood because despite the path being in shambles and the weight of responsibility not being any lighter, she felt a little hope that these Tenno would be good for the world.

 

The Operator sat slouched in his transference chair, fingers pressed to his forehead in utter exasperation. The faint hum of the Orbiter filled the silence, punctuated only by the distant whoosh of Umbra practicing his sword play.

"Ordis," he said at last, voice low and weary.

"Yes, Operator?" came the chipper reply, far too bright for the mood.

"When you asked to be the public relations manager, you made me a lot of promises about... staying out of trouble."

"Ordis did do that!" the cephalon chirped proudly.

The Operator exhaled through his nose, pinching the bridge of it now. "Then please, explain to me why—after less than twenty-four hours in that role—you are currently wanted dead in seventeen countries and have a collective bounty of twenty-four million credits on your head from several major criminal syndicates?"

A pause. Then very seriously Ordis said: "They were being very rude to you, Operator. So Ordis was rude back by leaking classified information and draining many of the assets, all for PHO to see."

The Tenno let out a long, defeated sigh and dragged a hand down his face.

"...Haaaaaa."

Ordis hummed happily, oblivious to the despair in the air. "Would you like me to prepare another statement for the press?"

"Absolutely not. Just get the new body ready for me please, Umbra and I are heading to Earth."

_____________

A/N: Sorry for missing last week. I'm not exactly swimming in my free time due to my current financial situation but I'm here now! Thanks for all the support on the story so far, it's always fun reading the reactions to my work and it keeps me motivated. Next chapter is a timeskip btw.