It's Turbin' Time (Library of Ruina Modded/Arknights)

So, you guys remember that big artilleryman Seafiend that Arabella killed during 2.10?

''Carlos'', 10* Flinger Sniper
Tags: Crowd-Control, Nuker, Summon

''Gwagh''
Operator ''Carlos'', relentlessly bombards the battlefield.
The Thirst is uncontrollable.

Faction: Seafiends
Trait: Attacks deal two instances of Physical damage to ground enemies in a small area (The second instance is a shockwave that has half the normal ATK).

Special Interactions:
When ''Carlos'' is deployed, if Skadi and/or Irene is in the squad then she/they will immediately deploy near ''Carlos'' and begin attacking ''Carlos'' with a +10 % ATK buff that increases by +10 % every 10 seconds, if she/they were already deployed then she/they will redeploy near ''Carlos''.

Interlude: Records II

---

Operator Record: Ayam

King of Fiends

Hear the call of We Many, and reject it- there is blood that must be spilt.

Unlock Conditions:

• Raise Ayam to Elite 2 Level 1.
• Have at least 150% trust with Ayam.

"In the decaying depths of Rhodes Island, a heretical secret awaits."

---

<The scene starts in a dark metal room, with cracked, rust-covered walls. It is lit by candles, and various pipes litter the floor, the walls and the ceiling.>

<An impact. Ayam- having changed clothes to a long, flowing robe akin to Quintus' own- falls out of a pipe, a crack resounding as they land on the floor and their legs snap like twigs.>

<With a crunchy sound, they put their legs back together.>

Ayam
Hello?

<There is no answer. Only silence.>

Ayam
...here we are.

<A misshapen Seaborn slithers out of one of the pipes. The crimson arteries covering its body, and the black tendrils erupting out of its blue flesh mark it as a Sea-Fiend.>

Sea-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Ayam
...hey.

Sea-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Ayam
No, we're not leaving yet. Did you.

<They pause.>

Ayam
I don't know the word.

Sea-Fiend
Surveillance.

Ayam
Yeah... the sur-vei-lance wall.

Sea-Fiend
Surveillance!
Ayam
Surveillance. Heheh.

Sea-Fiend
We?

Sea-Fiend
We.

Sea-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Ayam
Yeah, thank you... where's father?

Sea-Fiend
Surveillance. In surveillance.

Ayam
I want to see him.

<The Sea-Fiend leaves the room. Ayam follows.>

<Another, similarly decayed room. The walls are completely covered in veins and misshapen eyes- with cephalopod hourglass pupils- and a large, spherical Sea-Fiend lays at the center. Several cracked, visibly damaged antiquated televisions are scattered around the floor.>

Sea-Fiend
Surveillance.

<Another, taller, eel-like Sea-Fiend slithers into the room.>

Eel-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Ayam
<incomprehensible>

Sea-Fiend
Surveillance?

Ayam
...no surveillance on Father?

Eel-Fiend
No time for Father. Ascalon comes, Ayam. How are Leech and Joe?

<Ayam's face shifts to a worried expression.>

Ayam
Leech is fine. Sleeping in my bedroom. Mother asked me to let Joe go with Linette. But... the dragon...?

<They all shudder.>

Eel-Fiend
It is good to know they are well. And yes. The dragon has been looking around. Almost caught our roots.

Ayam
We can't avoid them forever... but I can't tell this to Mother. Leech is already too much.

<The large Sea-Fiend in the center of the room shudders. The eyes in the walls turn towards Ayam. A television twitches and turns on.>

<Inside of it, is the black-and-white footage of a Rhodes Island corridor. Operator Ascalon and Closure are looking at the camera.>

Ascalon
I told you. There is something strange with the cameras.

<The Eel-Fiend's gravely voice is heard.>

Eel-Fiend
If they break open the wiring, we are...

Sea-Fiend
Dead.

<Closure shakes her head.>

Closure
Well, I didn't notice anything strange with the footage, sorry.

Ascalon
No signs of tampering?

Closure
Not on the digital side, at least. No unusual inputs, no signs of looped footage whatsoever.

Ascalon
Yes.

Closure
We already went over it. S.W.E.E.P's analysis detected nothing. You sure it was on the physical side...? We didn't find anything either. No external tampering... no bugging. No signs of Originium Arts either. The worst we found were...

Ascalon
... the eroded cables. Not conclusive.

Closure
Yeah. If someone did bug the camera, it'd have to be with-

<The footage cuts off, returning to the circle of Fiends. The roots spread across the room shift slightly.>

Ayam
...did you...

Large Sea-Fiend
I retracted my veins from inside the wiring. I am no longer copying the electrical signals. The vibrations are unknown to me.

Large Sea-Fiend
I feel... lonely.

<The large Sea-Fiend cannot properly lower its head, as it is mostly torso. As such, it deflates like a balloon.>

Eel-Fiend
I am tired.

Sea-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Eel-Fiend
We need to go...

Eel-Fiend
Go...

Eel-Fiend
Out.

Large Sea-Fiend
Go out. Not possible. No place in the world will take us.

Ayam
If we had retrieved our kin's flesh...

Large Sea-Fiend
The First To Speak could have seen our point of view. Perhaps we could have had a better relationship with the sea.

Ayam
The sea...

Eel-Fiend
Hates me, and you.

<The Eel-Fiend pauses. It is trying to search for the right word.>

Eel-Fiend
We should bring... Ayam, parent.

Eel-Fiend
Aunt?

Ayam
Your uncle. My parent. Quintus.

Eel-Fiend
Perhaps ...technically mother. Aunt is appropriate.

Eel-Fiend
Yes. Aunt.

Ayam
Mother?

Large Sea-Fiend
Records indicate blood sample was gestated using Quintus' own ma- information, as a basis before being passed to the Seaborn of Sal Viento.

<The eyes in the walls grow glassy, unfocused.>

Large Sea-Fiend
Mother is appropriate, though still not entirely correct. Genetic sample removed from Mother, as in Arabella, mixed with Seaborn genetic... information, Quintus, passed to Seaborn of Sal Viento. Could be compared to... a more complex form of coupling?

Large Sea-Fiend
Surrogacy? No. That require three parties involved, only two provide genetic information. All parties in this situation provided it.

Ayam
Then... Both are Father?

Large Sea-Fiend
Hm. Flesh collected by "Abel," not-flesh, being-close-to-us. Light. Analysis in laboratory pending before chunk removed by you.

Ayam
And I rebuilt you from it. From the...

Eel-Fiend
Memory.

Sea-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

Eel-Fiend
Genetic memory. Yes. That is the word.

Ayam
Am I your mother, then?

Eel-Fiend
No. No genetic... material from you.

<The Eel-Fiend giggles.>

Large Sea-Fiend
You induced growth. Appropriate word would be midwife. You are only Leech's and Joe's mother, as they were created from your own... data?

Eel-Fiend
The root of that word is interesting.

Sea-Fiend
Data? Material?

Eel-Fiend
<incomprehensible>

<The four Sea-Fiends giggle like the schoolchildren at the word.>

Eel-Fiend
No. Midwife. Book said "mid" was obsolete preposition. Means "with."

Large Sea-Fiend
Word "wife" means marriage, though.

<All four pause to think. A brief glimpse of a wedding dress is shown. A bell resounds.>

Eel-Fiend
Father and Mother are not married.

Ayam
...should they be?

Eel-Fiend
Maybe, maybe. In a sense we were "born out of wedlock."

Ayam
What does that mean?

Eel-Fiend
It means we were born outside of a marriage. I do not know why that is relevant.

Ayam
I think it is something related to commitment. One of my sets of memories had a story like those... Their mother got angry because they had a child outside of marriage.

Large Sea-Fiend
Marriage. Marriage comes with lots of people. Flowers.

Large Sea-Fiend
I want to see flowers.

Eel-Fiend
Maybe we could eat the flowers.

Sea-Fiend
Wedlock. <squirms.> Locked.

Eel-Fiend
Out of marriage?

Ayam
No flowers for us then?

Large Sea-Fiend
They're going to lock us out of the wedding.

Ayam
Mother wouldn't let them do that.

Eel-Fiend
Mother is strong. She wouldn't. But Abyssal Hunters might help locking.

Ayam
Oh no.

Sea-Fiend
Abyssal Hunters.

Sea-Fiend
Abyssal Hunters...

Sea-Fiend
Wouldn't. Wouldn't lock.

Sea-Fiend
Kill.

Eel-Fiend
Yes. Would just kill.

Large Sea-Fiend
Sword Hunter has no patience for anything. Wouldn't lock. She would just smash.

Eel-Fiend
We can survive smashing. Leech can survive any smashing.

Ayam
We can't survive biting, if it's done enough.

Eel-Fiend
Abyssal Hunters bite?

Ayam
The Saw Hunter- Specter. She probably bites.

Eel-Fiend
The Saw Hunter definitely bites. Definitely eats a lot.

Large Sea-Fiend
She eats enormous amounts, definitely. I have not seen it with the surveillance, but I know it must be true.

Sea-Fiend
No biting.

Large Sea-Fiend
But I can't bite.

Sea-Fiend
I bite!

Large Sea-Fiend
Yes, but I just drink. Don't drink that much. Why do we have to be bitten?

Ayam
I don't know. I just want to be me, and let you be you.

Large Sea-Fiend
We can survive off the animals. Large animals wait inside Rhodes Island corridors. Inside the ruins. Inside the depths. We can keep hunting them while you live in the outside.

Ayam
We are different from Bloodfiends. I think human blood is not the only possibility, yes, but...

Large Sea-Fiend
Not as nutritious. The Thirst is ever-growing until it is sated with human blood.

Eel-Hunter
We will need human blood. Don't forget you brought us here.

Ayam
I will never forget.

Large Sea-Fiend
I will turn on the surveillance. Stretch out roots again. Ascalon has probably left.

Eel-Fiend
Yes. Want to see... greenhouse.

Sea-Fiend
No green.

Ayam
I can get the color television fixed. Up there. But it will be trouble getting it here.

Large Sea-Fiend
Would be nice.

Ayam
I... I'll go back home. Father is waiting with a lesson for me.

Eel-Fiend
Today... is mathematics.

Eel-Fiend
I like mathematics.

<Eel-Fiend rests its head in the ground.>

Eel-Fiend
We have consumed... three-hundred and sixty-four candles this week.

Eel-Fiend
Candles last... around. Around five hours, six hours or seven hours. Few candles last eight hours.

Large Sea-Fiend
Candles need oxygen, pipes bring oxygen.

Eel-Fiend
One hundred and sixty candles last five, one hundred and twelve last six, seventy-three last seven, nineteen last eight.

Eel-Fiend
Lasting time of candles. Calculating by one hundred and sixty times five plus one hundred and twelve times six plus seventy three times seven plus nineteen times eight, two thousand and one hundred and thirty-five. Divided by three hundred sixty four equals five with three hundred and fifty left.

Eel-Fiend
It's annoying. I don't like when it's left. They need to invent a way to do math with the ones that are left. They really should do that. Ayam. Tell Father he needs to do that.

Large Sea-Fiend
Does Father know math?

Sea-Fiend
No.

Eel-Fiend
You're right, Father doesn't know math. He teaches math but he is bad at it. The books teach the math far better. However, Mother knows math.

Ayam
Mother knows math and she says you can use math to throw things at people. That's called ballistics. I can already throw things at people, so I think I already know that.

Eel-Fiend
Then ask her to explain ballistics. If we knew ballistics, we would be able to throw Ascalon, and escape.

Ayam
Yes, that's a priority.

Eel-Fiend
How are the memories going?

Ayam
I don't know. They're confusing. I know what they mean, but I also don't. They're not my memories. I don't want to keep learning things using memories that aren't mine. It's confusing, because the memories are all wrong. They say things that aren't true.

Large Sea-Fiend
If the corpses knew the truth, maybe they wouldn't be dead. Ignore the memories from the dead bodies.

Sea-Fiend
Away.

Ayam
I'll bring blood from Mother next time. Mother gets a lot of blood. She says it's because I'm a growing child.

Sea-Fiend
Where? Blood?

Eel-Fiend
Mother knows everything about blood. Our Mother knows where all the blood comes from.

Ayam
...goodbye, everyone.

Everyone
Goodbye.

---

4.7 - Silent Sentinel

Your name is Ifrit- and your head hurts.

It's always like this. But- but you thought it was getting better.

You thought all the medicines and Silence would help it get better, but it isn't- it just keeps getting worse and worse.

You hadn't heard that tub of lard's voice in your head for months now, but all of a sudden he started coming back- and every word hurts to listen.

He's realizing it now, just how much it hurts for you to hear him speak. He even seems sad- the bastard.

"I'm sorry." he whispers, and then the voice is gone. But the pain-

The pain doesn't stop.

It hurts, and it makes you angry.

It's not supposed to be like this. The voice in your head never made you hurt. He made you angry, because he was annoying, but right now he just hurts. And you know it's- it's not his damn fault. He doesn't know what's happening any more then you do. He- he just wanted to help you with your homework, but...

You wish this wasn't happening. It doesn't stop anymore.

Last time you dreamt, it was different. You don't know why, but you know it has something to do with it. Your dreams are all the same, but now they weren't.

Blood. Blood everywhere. The labcoats, the- a bathtub. More experiments. Someone's brain being taken out. The knives and scalpels getting closer and closer- they want to open yours, too.

"Ends, beginnings, ends, beginnings, ends..."

The worst part is the chattering. The enthusiasm. And the constricting pain around your arms, like you're in a straightjacket again- like you're being restrained for another experiment-

Someone taps your shoulder.

"Kid?"

The pain goes away just a bit. It's the guy with the stupid big hat.
He's got a... bottle of water?

And your pills.

Huh.

"It's the time you should be taking them, you know." he says. You can't see his face, but it feels like he's smiling. "Silence is busy, but I asked her about it. What do you think of maybe going for ice cream afterward, maybe?"

You think...

You think you'd like that.

---

Your name is Nicole Teene.

The infiltration is going fine, so far. The security here is pretty lax, and you haven't needed to use the clock, at least for now.

You spent a whole hour taking the cigarrette smell off your body, you spat out all of the smoke you normally keep housed in your lungs, you even made sure to sweat out all the toxins so you don't end up leaving a trail of detectable chemicals.

But the place doesn't really have that many patrols, strangely enough-

No. You shouldn't underestimate them. You've only pierced through the outer section so far- you haven't made it through the lockdown yet.

There's still four more sections to go through.

You wonder if Linette would have made it past the lockdown by now?

You cling to your hiding spot in the ceiling as another patrol passes by.

The armored guards wave their wand-pistols around the glass walls, letting out a series of disorienting flashes out light with each Arts pulse they emit. It's some sort of frequency-based Arts meant to detect organic and electronic components.

Humans- or whatever people here are called- have some Originium in their cells already. That thing is just around everywhere in the planet, inside everyone. Being made of meat means you will just allow some amount of it to build up inside your guts, no matter what you do.

Seems that the local people's immune systems just manage to keep the crystal in check. Natural selection, you guess. Life that doesn't manage that probably just dies off.

So, until you go and directly expose yourself to some chunk of Originium or get it in your bloodstream, the small bits you breathe in all your life probably won't really matter much.

But you will still have a certain amount of Originium density.

And you basically don't. Your blood filtration system is used to way less horrifying, though still pretty aggressive stuff, and you haven't been here that long.

So, your Originium assimilation rate is one of the lowest amongst Rhodes Island. Bit higher then the Abyssal Hunter girls, though, from those records you peeked at.

The guards' pistols let out a clicking sound. Nothing detected- after all, you aren't carrying anything that runs on Originium, either. Your Originium assimilation is background level- you might as well be invisible to the patrol.

At least until they switch to a heatscan, and you have time until they do that.

Before the guards bring out anything else, you crawl through the roof, and squeeze through the half-opened gate behind them into the next corridor.

You look around. Bathrooms, a janitor closet, doors to, yeah, more corridors. It's best it you just keep going.

After that, things start to get worse.

The layout changes. Rooms start being designed differently.

Bright lights everywhere, apparently kept going day and night. No lightswitches anywhere. No windows, either, unlike the rest of the place that is almost half glass. With all this light, walls- all painted with an uniform, even painful shade of white- don't cast shadows.

So you'll have to hide in the ceiling, hope nobody looks up, because there's more patrols then before

Maybe if you found a disguise...

You spot a white door.

The guards are avoiding it. No cameras are turned in that direction. You catch a smell.of vinegar. Antiseptic, too. The number on the door is 101.

Maybe... maybe this could be useful. Is the door what you think it is?

You look around, lower yourself from the ceiling, and then slam it open.

Half a dozen mops, brooms, cloths and buckets fall on your head.

...It's a storage cupboard. Shame you had to make so much noise.

Before anyone can come in to investigate, you put everything back, compress your body, slide into it- hiding right in the top of the shelf next to the bottles of alcohol gel.

You close the door behind you, and wait.

Not much. The noise called someone already- a guard. A blonde woman with snake scales around her neck and a short tail. She comes to check what happened, but doesn't have a second to react before you lunge for her throat.

You silence her with a stab, her lungs filling with blood before she can even bring her weapon out.

She gurgles, and you pull her into the closet. Then you stab her again. And again. And again. Then she's quiet.

Seems she's just your size- very lucky.

---

Hmmm.

You've taken the key to the closet, her wallet, phone and keycards from her pocket, alongside her uniform.

Checking the phone, turns ou the password is pattern-based. An "L" doesn't work. An upside-down one does. Checking her contacts, you don't find anything useful.

You do find what seems like credit card information. Great.

Now, do you hide the body here?

You could do something else.

In the closet, there's many bags of white cleaning powder, soap, some boxes of other stuff too.

You could hide the body here. It'd just take a bit of disassembling.

And people would be less likely to assume an infiltration, at least in the moment- when people find a dismembered corpse in the Nest, their first instinct is to assume a serial killer.

In the Backstreets people don't even bother with anything but tossing it out for the Sweepers.

No. Too loud.

You spit a plume of smoke over your old clothes and watch them melt into nothing. You hide the resultant sludge inside a bag of soap.

You slip out of the closet, keeping the body hidden in the same place you were.

Thankfully, nobody was looking.

You think your disguise is pretty flimsy, but it still works well enough. So far, nobody's questioned you just for entering a room.

They might question if you look like you're entering every room one by one, like you're searching for something.

But if you keep it occasional and manage to look like you're absolutely meant to be here, it shouldn't be any issue.

What do you do, now? Nobody is paying attention to you.

You take the clock from your pocket, and caress its immaculate surface. Did it change? It might have.

The hands are turned to 7 o'clock.

Should you ask it what to do?

...might not be a good idea. Better wait until you have no other options. You look around again. There's five rooms in this corridor.

556, 557, 558, 559, 560.

You'll go for the first.

556 is almost empty. Whatever was meant to be here is already gone. There's a crack in the wall. Looks like someone threw themselves against it. Scratch marks in the ground, too.

Pretty strange, but you can't really tell what happened without more info. You step out of the room and pretend to lock it. No one even looks at you as you do that.

You continue your path through the corridors.

There is something wrong with this place, you think. You feel like you're going on circles despite carefully marking your path.

People are far too inattentive, even flighty. The guards are barely paying attention. A few minutes ago they were definitely meticulous, now they look like they barely even give a damn.

Lengths are warping, and now you can't tell how far you've walked. Is this some new security measure, Arts-based? You don't know.

You hands are shaking- no. Your vision is unfocused, it looks like everything is vibrating just slightly. The walls, the ground.

It continues. The rooms get stranger. 633 is filled with beetles in glass boxes- 648 is filled with bottles and bottles of oil. The ground feels, it looks like it's ready twist on itself. The corridors all look like they lead to nowhere at all.

And you feel like something is leaking through the walls.

---

You feel her presence.

A fist wrapped in crystallized bone, and a gigantic hand whose shape makes your mind ache.

The Director of Defense, and Mansfield's most feared prisoner.

After the prisoner nearly knocked you out of the landship- she was there, waiting for you.


No matter how strong she was, she would die like everything else- if only you could get your blade through her throat. But you couldn't- you couldn't break through.

He had put a bullet through your left leg- with a machine gun that just came out of nowhere. He kicked you in the face- three cracked teeth. But you- it was just you and her.

She hit you in the chest. Eight fractured ribs. And then, long after she was left- he kicked you while you were down. A shattered jaw, you'd never speak right again. And then the prison. And then the show started.

She ruined everything- you had everything before she- no, all of them. Before they came, you had everything.

Now, you are little more then a toy. A puppet for their amusement.

They never stopped laughing, laughing through the screens. Laughing at your limp, laughing at the way your mouth just didn't work right. You were their clown, but you couldn't complain, how could you? You didn't even know. Not until that guard told you.

You remember that smile.

That mocking smile, of that guard, as he patted you in the shoulder. Asked for an autograph and laughed.

Even then, you couldn't just cave his face in. If you did, there would be no hope of escaping.

Then, you came across a thought- was it really yours?

Maybe you deserved this.

Your bones ache at her presence yet again. Where is the other? The scent, the laughter. Where are the prisoner, the assassin, the infiltrator? You do not wish to feel her presence.

You will remove it from your sight.

Perhaps, then, you will deserve to be a person again. Perhaps then, the laughter, the echoes of the audience- maybe it'll all stop.

But you hate her. You hate her enough, that even if there was no hope for your future- you would still destroy her.

Yes.

She deserves it as surely as you do.

---

"So he just keeps telling me to go do my homework and stuff." she mumbles, staring at her ice cream cone. "It's annoying. But today he just... hurt."

"He hurt you?" you ask, taking a bite out of the bottom of your own cone. The ice cream starts coming out, like from a tap.

It's a worrying prospect. If the voice in her head is hurting her...

"It isn't him!" Ifrit says, angry. "It's my fault. There's something wrong with my head."

You don't tell her there's nothing wrong. There obviously is. You just wait a bit.

She looks upwards, a look of surprise in her face.

"Uh...?" she says. She sounds like she's hearing voices.

"Is he talking to you?"

"He's... yeah. And it doesn't hurt."

You pause. It's an opportunity, to find out what exactly is going on here.

"What's he saying."

"That there was something else in my head... that he didn't let it in."

Your eyes shoot up.

"It?"

"Her...? He said it was... someone warm like the sun." she say, sounding confused. "Warm like the sun..."

Carmen.

You almost missed someone being victim to one of her assault, even while they were right next to you. Were it not for her having another voice in her head...

The girl smiles, and laughs.

"But he kicked her out!" she exclaims. "That's hella cool! Did you have a fight?"

You blink.

"A fight? And a voice warm like the sun?" you prod her for more answers.

"Yeah! He said she wasn't expecting it! Hit her hard, with fire, and she just ran away from my head! But he's... sorry that it hurt me while it was happening."

"...could I talk to him?"

She blinks. You don't think anyone's asked that before.

"Uh, okay? Let me ask. Sure. Yeah, you can."

Alright. Time slows down as you pause to think and put a plan into motion.

You try and give some sort of push for Abel to return- he's been less and less talkative recently, with how he has to divide his attentions between the landship and you. But he at least managed to tell everyone about what happened to Ifrit, so they wouldn't be worried there.

And so they'd eventually send someone to pick her up, so that's an advantage at least.

"Hm? Sieghart?" the voice comes, faint at first but steadily growing clearer. "What is it?"
If someone let him in, would Abel be able to stablish communications between a voice in that person's head and you?

He pauses.

"I could, but it would be mildly uncomfortable for all parties involved. With a shared mindscape- through a book from the Library, perhaps you could have clearer communication? All parties would be able to see each other, at least. Those books are made for this exact sort of task, in a way."

Would the Book of the Dreaming Current suffice?

"Perhaps, but you'd have to calm down the Abnormality enough for it to allow four people in without throwing a tantrum. You have some experience with the Current, but..."
Yes, yes. Complicated at best. The Book of Abram?

"The same, but Abram poses less threat. And the environment might be traumatic to... who is it that you want to bring?"
Ifrit. She has a voice in her head. Long story.

"Ah. Yes, it might be traumatic to be exposed to some amount, even if minimal, of Abram's memories."

Any third options?

"...the Book of Bongbong is a wildcard, but possible."

Yeees. Could use that one. Much better option then just making Ifrit go into the heads of a collective-fear demon or, well, a shard of Ayin. Either that, or you could just have the "regular" talk.

[ ] Use the book of the Dreaming Current.
A risk. A significant one. No can do.

[ ] Use the book of Abram.
Dangerous, possibly traumatic to the kid. No way.

[ ] Use the book of Bongbong.
You have absolutely no idea of what the experience is going to be like, but you doubt it'll be as dangerous as the other two.

[ ] Open "regular" communication.
Mildly uncomfortable isn't very reassuring, and you'd rather not hurt the kid. But still, you trust Abel. It would work.

[ ] Talk to her like a normal person.
To a degree of normal, at least. Just have Ifrit tell you what the voice says.

---

Your name is Saria, and your work is unending.

It is to be expected. It always is. There are always more patients to assist. Conditions must be monitored, medicines must be administered, and one must be ready at all times.

Equipment must be moved, patients must be brought in, assisted, cared for. Shipments of medicines must be carried to the clinic, accounted for. Surpluses must be noted and strategies modified accordingly. Supplies that are missing must be noted and requested- should there be an emergency, you have the authority to negotiate for more.

All of this must be done in short order. There is no time to waste.

There are more tasks to handle. There is a large piece of equipment that must be carried to this operation operation room. Sending other Operators to fetch it, or moving the patient there, would take too much time, and divert personnel that could be handling other critical tasks. You can do it by yourself.

You deposit the weight on your shoulders- a heavy box of black steel- and start to pass your orders to the other medical professionals around you.

"The patient's Oripathy is not the main problem here." you note, as you and a black-haired medic get to work on activating the device. The patient mutters weakly as the needle is inserted into their wrist.

"Doctor Saria, we'll need you to sign this-"

You skim through the text. No issues. You sign it and hand it over, then continue. An anesthetist slips into the room. Soon enough, the patient's sleep begins, you are free to continue your work. The woman discards her syringe, and tells you that you will have to proceed without her. She is in no condition to continue working for much longer. You nod. She looks at you as she steps out of the room, and tries to say something- before giving up and leaving.

You turn back towards the nurse currently working on the machine.

"Hm-hm. As I said, it is not the problem. At least, not for now. After intervention, their cell-Originium assimilation is at 5% and lowering, with a few developed lesions- but the issue seems to be a kidney tumour, alongside hereditary, normally mild, haemochromatosis-" you continue. A difficult case, multiple relatively simple to treat issues compounding.

One of the doctors lets out an annoyed grunt at the diagnosis. You throw him a look, and he gulps.

"The tumour is non-metastasing, entirely benign for now, and developed entirely independently. Were their state not worsening, we could remove it without mucch issue. But as it stands, the shock may kill the patient."

"The damaged kidney is not helping either. With reduced elimination of toxins, the accelerated iron accumulation is preventing their condition from improving. We must control it first, or they will not be able to respond effectively to the Infection. First, the hemodialysis."

The machine whirrs into life. You connect the canister of replacement solution as it begins the process of filtration. You estimated iron overload caused by intestinal Oripathic damage, especially based on their diet, but the genetic scan revealed a deeper, more fundamental issue.

You'll need a sample as well.

For now, you must continue to orient. Their blood type is O+. They might need a transfusion after this.

"We aren't equipped to manage a tumour- we'll have to transfer them to the main clinic." a nurse tells you, looking worriedly at the patient.

"Yes. We could bring them there-" another one proposes.

The nurses start to discuss the logistics of the treatment. You massage your temples a bit. You are tired. But you have a job to do. It's busywork, yes, but still necessary.

Someone touches your shoulder. A medic with bags in his eyes gives you a worried look, serpentine tail coiling around his leg.

"Doctor Saria, perhaps you could end your shift and get some rest? It's been quite some time. I'm sure me and Robert would be more than willing to cover for you." he asks.

Oh.

"Unfortunately not- not while I am still on the job." you answer.

He nods and backs off. Mentally, you kick yourself. The patient needs all the help he can get- showing this sort of fragility could very easily lead to stress amongst the other doctors, and neither you nor them can afford any mistakes in a case as delicate as this.

The machine stops and lets out a click. An operator starts to disconnect it from the patient.

Soon after that, four more medics enter through the doorway of the operating room. There is a bit more confirmation, and then they start to haul the patient to an ambulance. You move to help.

"I'll go with him to the clinic." you say. There's more to do later, so you'll have to return after this. You give them instructions regarding the next patient- you've seen that particular sort of case before. Thankfully, it's an easier case.

You ask a nurse to pass you a syringe of suppressant, which you administer. The man stirs on his sleep, but his condition will remain stable through the trip. You and the medics carry the man throughout the corridors of the- understaffed, overloaded- clinic. The vehicle is waiting right at the exit.

The driver gives you a nod as you all load the man into the ambulance. The others return to the clinic- there are more patients to take care of. And then you go.

You look over your shoulder, and ask for-

No. Three is no one but the three of you inside the vehicle.

The patient in the bed next to you is in stable condition, for now. Besides monitoring his status- an easy task, with the bracelet in his arm and the device connected to his torso. So, there is nothing to do but wait.

You are left alone with your thoughts.

...the mission has not been proceeding as predicted.

You knew it would be difficult from the start - extradimensional visitors and dealing with Rhine Labs combined the utterly unfamiliar with many complex difficulties. Perhaps too many for you to handle.

Ifrit being here is a problem. You do not want her to be anywhere near this place, anywhere near Rhine Labs. But it happened- it was a serious lapse of conduct on behalf of Rhodes Island, but there is unfortunately nothing you can do about it now. You will just have to wait until she can be sent back, and the ones responsible for this breach dealt with in the appropriate manner.

And- you do not know what to say, or what to do around her. You have not seen her properly since the incident.

You were unprepared for her appearance.

Sieghart does not trust you. Such is obvious. As much as you hate to say it, it is nothing if not justified.

All evidence points towards Rhine Labs being once again- and is that not painful to say- at the heart of this issue. If he wants to uncover whatever they are trying to do now, he cannot trust you fully, not with your history.

But if he still chose you to this mission. You believed you got off in a solid footing with the mercenary commander. According to what you could gather on his conduct and history, plus Kal'tsit's review of him, he would be an admirable leader.

But now, you're being distracted, left out of the loop. Intentionally. A very familiar position to be in. And you're left wondering-

Did Silence say something to him, maybe? Is she- no. That thought...

That thought is even more painful.

Yet again, you are being left in the cold. This time, you might deserve it.

Perhaps you deserved it last time, too.

But-

The world stops.

You hear an horrible grinding noise, and move to shield the patient. The driver leaps back from his seat as something collides with the vehicle. Something dark-

A noise. The windows shattering. The lights flicker and explode. Outside, the city's lights die.

Everything goes dark.

---

It's only gotten worse. The rooms hurt your eyes, the layouts don't make any sense. The path forwards curves and goes in a straight line- what is happening?

You've gotten past the guards, and through the lockdown.

You take the clock out of your pocket. What is going to happen? You can't trust your senses anymore. You almost didn't make it out of there. To hell with it- you'll use the damn thing.

It's locked at midnight, and you still have half a dozen hours before that... if you didn't get everything wrong.

Or lose track of time in the labyrinth. The clock doesn't move, but you know. You simply know.

It seems that, tonight, you can-

[ ] Take Ahrens Parvis.
[ ] Take Muelsyse.
[ ] Take Ferdinand Clooney.
[ ] Destroy the reactor. Kill all three.

Dead outcomes linger, before fading from your memories. Look at the clock for guidance. Does it know what you're supposed to do?

You can-

You will-

You can keep going forward.

You will find Ahrens Parvis tonight.

Rhine Laboratories' Structural Section. You're here, and you're safe for now. It's more like the rest of the site. Same architecture, there's plants, lots of glass windows, a glass roof. But you can't see the outside. There's no moon and no stars. The lights are as painfully bright as the other one.

The patrols don't have any schedule anymore. It's like they completely stopped caring- the guards just run on circles around the same four corridors, again and again.

It's almost embarassing how you almost got caught.

When they started asking why exactly you weren't patrolling with them.

You managed to deflect the questions. But people are going to start whispering. You'll have to avoid the guards from now on.

If you lose your disguise, you'll have to run away, but you have no idea how. You don't think breaking that glass is a good idea.

You think you saw a river, when you looked down.

Right now, you aren't thinking straight, not after hours and hours of wandering through the damn maze. No, no. You can't trust your senses.

You force yourself out of your head. You need to keep going.

A man in a labcoat runs past you down the corridor, before stopping himself and turning back. His eyes have a strange glow, but he looks excited.

"You, you! Guard!" he cries. "We need extra hands for this one!"

You nod and follow him. He doesn't verify your identity or ask any questions, but he's in a hurry, so that makes sense.

He leads you to another white room- this one is a small cell.

There's three other guards, and they're struggling to strap a man in a hospital gown to an operating table.

The man has two large bull horns- one of them cracked visibly. He's roaring, trying to pry himself free, and he is almost managing it, even with three people holding him down.

[ ] Help him escape
Whatever they're doing here, you can't be a part of it. There's a loose strap on the operating table. Would anyone really notice, if you pulled it just a bit?

[ ] Hold him down
You came here to find what Rhine Labs is doing. What better way then to see them doing it?