Chapter Text
Thalia Everson sits on her favorite bench in Unification plaza, idly trying her hand at free sketching the various Affini and Terrans wandering about. Once this would have been a paid enclosure, its greenery and structures maintained by the exorbitant fees that kept most of the capital's citizens safely locked out. With the heavy bags under her eyes and small smile, she’s the picture perfect example of a liberated Terran enjoying the new freedoms imposed by the Affini as they sweep over the planet and bring it under their control.
Internally, Agent 1374-E/A does it's best not to snap the pencil in it's fingers as it encodes tallies of Affini, Florets, and Free Terrans into her “sketch”. The numbers have increased, again. More people, more Affini, more pets, more and more every day. It’s been less than a week since the Affini stepped foot on the planet and their dominance is being proven statistically with every passing hour. It’s enough to make it want to scr-
A Tool does not lose composure.A Tool acts.You are a Tool.
She blinks once, then stills the shaking in her hands and looks around with more diligence. Information must be obtained. The mission demands it.
Agent 1374-E/A very carefully does not think about how it's mission was to suppress dissent on Kal-O and prevent the planetary governor from closing the supply lanes that kept food flowing from the distant megafarms to the starport. A failure now that the Xenos control it. It does not think about how it's standing orders to gather information and locate rebellious elements are nearly pointless when the Xenos control the city, are rapidly claiming the entire planet. It does not think about how those orders were issued two months and three days ago before all contact with her handler abruptly ceased.
A Tool does not question orders.A Tool acts.You are a Tool.
It is a blade in the hands of the OCNI, to carve away at the dangers ever lurking in the shadows and protect humanity from suffering. It can not, must not, break.
Therefore, it ignores the shaking in its limbs, the endless buzzing in it's ears. It discards the fact that she’d last slept weeks before, and that it's actions are futile in the extreme. With enough information, a miracle can be created. Something must be done. It returns her gaze to the world around her, taking in the Affini one more time, counting them silently as she takes notes disguised as art. One, two… three…four…
Five. Five full notebooks on its desk now. This is the sixth. They're rotting, outdated, but the dead drop is no longer being checked and it has no where else to keep them. They can't be archived because they've not been collected. They've not been taken. They've not been used.
It isn't being used.
Her fingers still, the pictures she's sketched are growing more abstract, twisting curling lines intersecting. She's started to draw vines and leaves without thinking about it. The notebook drops to her lap, her head falls into her hands.
It can't keep doing this. It's failing it's mission. It does not have another method. Not with the Xenos in orbit. Not with the spaceport shut down.
Thalia grumbles to herself, tired and short on inspiration as Agent 1374-E/A runs through the emergency protocols. It knows the right thing to do. It must. It needs to -needs to-needs
It needs to identify the sound it's hearing.
Her gaze snaps upwards, locking onto blurry movement approaching her. Greater than two meters, less than three. Dark green leafage with red accents, glowing red eyes pointed at her. An Affini, striding up to her slowly. Deliberately slowly? Its height should allow it to move much faster, it’ll take at least thirty seconds longer to reach Thalia than it otherwise could have.
A Tool does not panic.A Tool Acts.You are a Tool.
She twitches, it can’t allow itself to be captured, she must maintain composure. The shaking in its fingers can’t be allowed to control her. It must maintain her composure. She must -
“Hello little one, is everything alright?” A voice like bell chimes in autumn winds reaches her, the Affini is close enough now that it towers over her. Time to plan wasted just trying to control the shaking of her limbs. She turns her gaze upwards meeting its redgoldredgold brightly glowing eyes and opens her mouth.
Thalia should say: “Yes of course, I appreciate the concern, everything is just so new right now.” A polite, friendly response that would be expected from a records keeper whose life had been turned upside down for the ‘better’ a week ago.
Agent 1374-A/E did not have a response, all focus funneled into it's training to maintain the mask of who it's pretending to be.
She twitches, and before it can notice what she’s doing, it is sprinting away.
-
Reality blurs, her body moves. She's standing at a crossroads and already angling to take a hard right down a narrow alley. It memorized the street layout of Neo Roma years ago, and by darting down here it can lose herself in a maze of side streets that will give her plenty of room to vanish.
She only has a moment to glance behind her as she's running, but it's enough to see vines streaming down the empty street after her. The xeno has abandoned its fascimile of the terran form and is slithering along the ground. Vaguely serpentine, and filling the street with Her presence.
'Her'?
She needs to run faster, it hasn't caught up to Thalia yet.
She pushes herself forward, body moving as optimally as she can push it, and loses track of reality as her vision blurs again. She doesn't need to see, it reassures herself as she rounds another corner. It just needs to make it another -
Wham
She slams into a wall and falls to the ground, staring dazedly at the smooth rippling substance between her and what should have been a staircase leading into the sewer network. A wall, a wall that softened as she collided with it.
Affini tech. Affini wall. An Affini building.
An Affini standing over her, vines waving as it leans down, a voice like bells and a gaze like fire. It's speaking to her but all it can hear is the rise and fall of the invisible choir, the sound caressing it as the sun slowly expands out from Her eyes and swallows it in warmth.
Darkness follows, as it is blinded by Her.
"Let's get you to the vet little one. Don't Squirm"
The darkness is broken by a searing heat, not the heat of the sun but a blaze started in its veins. It bites back a scream as pain fills its perspective. Its eyes fly open, only to be blinded by lights, the music Rising AnD Rising and RISING - Cold spreads, the flames are snuffed out.
It Fades.
There is softness beneath it, a choir singing faintly underneath its skin, and its muscles do not respond. It pushes, but it is trapped. Its eyes open and it looks down but there are no chains, no ties, nothing to hold it down. The room is dark and warm and the choir Rises. She is there, and She is Singing. It stares at her and She frowns, there is a pinch against its skin.
It fades.
Warmth draws its awareness back, Its eyes open to soft lights and water. It is… in the bath? Softness runs against its skin and the Choir croons to her. It can almost make out the words, and it twists to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the softness. It makes out reds and greens, and it manages a single word. "What…", it slurs before -
It fades…
It wakes up, and pushes itself upwards with a groan. The bed beneath it is too soft to be its own, and the room is large and full of a scattering of mismatched furniture. Awareness grows, and it reviews its most recent memories with displeasure. The Affini captured her after it broke cover. It is in neither a prison nor a hospital… The xeno had… what? Taken Thalia home with them? It looks around again, mapping the space in its mind. Large door to the right, designate that side the front. Thick carpet against the floor that spreads from the front to the back, the large bed it's in flush against the left wall. Desk against the far wall with an unidentified device, no chair. Scattered around the right side of the room, chairs of various size and shape, one large bean bag chair taking up the majority of the far right corner of the room, a wardrobe flush against the right wall. A second door in the center right, overly large like the former. No windows. Light source in the center of the ceiling. Very dim. No visible monitors.
The Affini might have taken Thalia home with them.
It stares into the distance. A moments weakness as it tries to figure out why. What possible motive would the Affini have. It knows that the Affini have been taking humans as 'pets', but to its knowledge only active combatants and 'volunteers' have been subjected to that fate. Thalia was neither, and should have been taken to a hospital if she collapsed. Which… she had? It strains, the memories are hazy.
It needs to get back into character before its captor returns. Return to being Thalia and escape from their grasp. The mental exercise necessary to adopt a persona is burned deep into its subconscious and it reaches for Thalia.
it reaches for
it
Its eyes fly open, and its heart pounds. Reaching for the persona, the necessary mask of her work, only produces static in her mind. That has never happened. Never. Not since A Tool Does Not Need To Remember. It needs to figure out what is going on before it's -
The door opens, and a voice that echos and rings calls out. "Petal~ Come join me in the kitchen please."
Too late.