-[X] Project Mortis
--[X] Davian Phoebus, Advanced Field Lab
_______________________________
They were currently standing in MEGAMAX's medlab- Davian, Edgar, and an assortment of lab-techs. The area was being renovated- repaired for future use, along with the rest of MEGAMAX. All bodies had been removed- as had every other item they were attempting to document and salvage, like some of the injection suites and filing cabinets full of documents.
Replacing them was various high tech gear, such as chemical analysis and synthesis machines to help produce stimpacks and anti-radiation drugs, genetic sequencers to help study any biological anomalies recovered, and several antennaed devices that Edgar was fairly certain that Davian had brought.
[Required: Location has Base Camp]
And medical gear- all over. The place was being converted into an infirmary for the camp- that way injuries or medical complications too complicated for a stimpack could be handled on site. Currently, there were no occupants- yet.
In the middle all all this was Team Mortis. "So, brief me," Edgar asked Phoebus, who was currently fiddling with the dials on an unidentified machine.
[Required: Weirdologist]
"Well, when I read Sgt. Parkers-"
"Private," Edgar interjected, correcting Phoebus, who raised an eyebrow.
"Not any more- apparently, he's been posthumously promoted- and chatter down the air waves is, when we all get back, the president is set to meet us and present his casket with a purple heart." Phoebus commented.
Oh that was- typical. The man who was pro-death camp was getting accolades just because he got shot. "Next year is an election year, isn't it?" Edgar commented. "Guess Prez Dick wants to get started early on his re-election campaign," He said sourly. Phoebus shrugged.
"He died in the line of duty. Anyways, I read his report- and what he described sounds like an Onryo to a T."
"Fill me in- quickly," Edgar said, flatly. "Short version."
"It's a spirit from Japanese mythology- a lady in white, a ghost created from a woman who was wronged in life. By a father, by a brother, a lover…"
"The government," Edgar interjected, causing Phoebus to nod.
"Or, in theory, the government," The cryptid expert agreed. "Regardless, traditionally, an onryo is a ghost fueled by anger- unable to pass on and granted terrible, unnatural powers because of their unfathomable wrath." Edgar felt a small bit of perverse kinship on that note- considering his own circumstances, he could sympathize with the notion. "There are more details, but in all honesty, I'm not sure whats myth and what's fact," He admitted. "And I probably won't until we successfully capture and study the entity."
"Bold idea," Edgar admitted. "And how do you intend to do that, exactly?" At that, Phoebus gave a small grin, and had a glint in his eye that made Edgar shiver.
"This isn't my first rodeo, Doctor- ghosts are a relatively unstudied paranatural phenomenon, but the C-Files have developed EXTENSIVE theories and contingencies for how it COULD be done. But first-" The machine he was working with beeped. "Bingo."
He stepped away, picking up a laser rifle as he began to move. "This is Davian Phoebus to Team Mortis- we've successfully identified the area of origin. Begin transportation of the Psi-Amplifier and Proton Beams to Cell Block F- location 9M," He commanded over comms.
"Mind telling me what's going on, Phoebus?" Edgar asked, confused, moving to follow. "I'm starting to feel lost."
"For the past few days, I've had my team collect data- testimony from people here who have reported suspicious activity or had encounters with the spirit. I've also used the opportunity to test out some theories I've had."
[Required: Advanced Field Lab]
Edgar quirked an eyebrow as they exited the Medlab- entering the maintenance tunnel that ran along the walls of MEGAMAX. "Theories?"
"How much do you know about traditional ghost hunting, Doctor?"
"Nothing at all, until this Expedition I didn't believe they existed." Wright confessed. "I'm still not sure if this is a ghost-but as a scientist, I'm not going to deny that theres some sort of paranatural phenomena occurring."
Phoebus nodded. "Well, there are a variety of ways that have been used to identify signs of a haunting- but the most modern technique is using EMF detectors. Many ghost-hunters theorize that spirits- and other paranatural phenomena- generate extremely subtle electromagnetic field anomalies that can be used to detect them."
Edgar nodded slowly. Well that wasn't…WHOLLY implausible. "So, what, you mapped out any location showing electrical anomalies?" He said, voice still skeptical. "And- cross referenced them with locations of observed phenomena," He continued, skepticism draining as he nodded. "I assume there's more."
"Correct," Davian said as steam hissed above them. "This is where my theories come in. How much do you know about psychic phenomenon?"
That was a….very complicated question. "I'm not up to date on the cutting edge stuff from Stardust, but I worked briefly on a research program Cambridge did- before McCoy took over the DoP," Edgar summarized briefly, leaving out as many details as he thought he could get away with- the records had been burned, so there wasn't any worry that Phoebus would be able to find him, but he still wanted to minimize uncomfortable questions. "It didn't go anywheres and got shut down after an accident killed some of the morons in charge- but I know probably more than the average person at least."
Davian nodded. "Well- one of the discoveries the DoP's psychic affairs division made last year was that psychics not only seem able to process zeta radiation more efficiently, but actively generate small amounts of background zeta radiation when tapping into their abilities."
"You think the ghost is some sort of psychic phenomena- you think that wherever it's point of origin is, you'll find not just electromagnetic fields, but also more zeta rads," Edgar summarized succinctly, fascinated.
Davian nodded. "So I used the lab tech you assigned us to try and locate the highest concentrations of zeta radiation. Cross-referencing the three sets of data came up with only a few locations that fulfill all criteria."
"And then you further narrowed down potential epicenters of the phenomena to find your spot," Edgar theorized. "Recording equipment? Get a ghost caught on camera? No, no, something else-" He clicked, unsure. "Data analysis to narrow down what locations have histories conducive to paranatural phenomena? Monitoring zeta fields for fluctuations? Cross referencing patient data in order to find if any expressed paranatural qualities?"
"I sent in the psychic investigators I brought on retainer to see which area gave them the worst feeling- I think that whatever location has the worst postcognitive residue is probably our point of origin," Phoebus responded as they reached some stairs, descending deeper into the facility as Edgar followed, puzzled.
"We brought psychics with us?" He asked, confused. "Why the hell wasn't I notified?"
"Because technically they're C-Files assets I'm under no obligation to give to you," Phoebus responded, before adding a clarification. "Besides, most of them don't like getting near you. They've probably been avoiding you." Annoying- Edgar would have to figure out a way to turn that off. "That message I received means one of them found the location with 90% certainty."
They came upon a set of doors, and Edgar shivered. 'Cellblock F' the flickering neon sign said above the door. He had read the reports. He knew what he'd see once he passed through.
There was no way to prepare for what was on the other side, however.
+1 ???
It started with the smell- sickly sweet, with undertones of stale pork. The smell of moulding flesh. Then Edgar saw- darkness. It took his eyes moments to adjust, and for a moment he wasn't sure what he was seeing.
"Christ, they just left the bodies to rot," He said, disgusted, horrified as they proceeded, staring at the…piles of corpses. The cell blocks- all the reports had been bad, but none of them prepared him for F. Cadavers were scattered across the ground, with only a narrow path through the place provided by the security team- on either side were cells. Cages, with durairon bars- filled with more corpses, starved and emaciated mummies.
"They have a corpse disposal area," Phoebus admitted, obviously uncomfortable himself for a moment. "It's worse- I have no idea how we're going to sort through it."
They passed round a bend and a team of DoP cleaners working to collect and transport corpses- all of them in enviro-armor that, Edgar noted pessimistically, probably should have been donned by him and Phoebus before they entered the area. Who knows what kind of filth was floating around?
"Okay, so we have your methodology for locating a…haunting epicenter," Edgar said awkwardly as he focused on the task at hand- fears of the mummies' curse could wait until they had finished conducting their business in the tomb. "How exactly do you intend to capture this entity, however?" He enquired.
[Required: Weirdologist/Extra Force Field Generators/Advanced Field Lab AND Ultracite Overload: Two Degrees Success]
"Well, unfortunately my original plan would have required using the force field generators to test another theory of mine- if Ghosts are energy, then maybe they can be contained BY energy. The bad news is without them, testing that theory is going to be complicated," Davian admitted as they passed into a hall that was…well, the clean-up team had made sure to at least put the bodies into piles, making the part of the cell block that least resembled an oubliette.
"Mmm, sorry," Edgar said, halfheartedly, to which Davian chuckled as he changed course, leading the pair into one of the larger cells- thankfully emptied of bodies and with numerous lights strung up by the investigative team. In the center…
"Well, the good news is, even if my original theory isn't going to work, I always have a backup plan," Davian confessed as he came to a stop before the antennae'd machine, making sure to stay behind a line that had been painted in the floor, Edgar noted. "Luckily, psychic residue isn't the only paranatural phenomenon the DoP has looked into."
"What is it?" Edgar asked, feeling weird radio get…louder.
"Sometimes hatred can even give unbelievable power to people."
He shivered as Davian answered Edgar's query, not realizing his discomfort. "Technically speaking what you're looking at is some of the salvage I collected from Syndey Hospital for my own use- thanks to it, the research we discovered, and the Psi-Divisions own studies into harnessing Psi-Power, I was able to have some of my people cobble together a psychic amplification device- which is going to be step one of the containment process and test my theory that ghosts are at least partially psychic phenomena."
Psychic…amplifier? "Aren't those highly theoretical?" Edgar asked, intrigued- and horrified at the notion that the United States Government had reached the point where it could assemble even prototype amplifiers.
"Not anymore," Davian said, smugly. "We don't have any working prototypes capable of not frying a human- yet. But we're not dealing with a human."
...Edgar blinked as he noted that no matter how this ended, Phoebus still won, somehow: even if containment failed, he'd still have invaluable data. And if any step of this succeeded…
[Trigger: Mastermind]
The political aspect alone- proof ghosts exist would almost certainly earn Phoebus grotesque amounts of influence and financial support for further research into what had, prior, been an extremely niche and largely unscientific field of paranatural study- and considering how much graft was in the system, that was almost certainly influence and money that would be used for Davian's own ends.
Edgar noted with unease that maybe not providing Phoebus the force fields had been the right call. He was starting to be concerned about what the man would do if given an Onryo to study. "I assume there's a step two to the plan that involves potentially making the ghost motivated by unfathomable hatred of the living even stronger."
[Trigger: At least 5 Novel Weapons Located]
[Trigger: Sufficient Ultracite Shards Located]
"Of course- step one is meant to increase corporeality. Step two is where I get to test my original theory- that energy can be used to contain energy. And test another prototype my lab techs assembled from the salvage- if it works, the C-Files walks away with a proven method of capturing phantasmal paranatural entities."
"Naturally," Edgar said with some exasperation, realizing he should probably re-evaluate where exactly on the list the C Files were- he might need to bump them in priority as an enemy. "So where is this containment device?"
"It'll arrive soon- we only had the material to make one, so my teams have had to share it." Phoebus noted. "As someone who has contributed extensively to this expedition, I hope you see fit to make sure my division is given the material needed to reproduce the technology for our own ends," He said, his meaning and attempts to fish very unsubtle.
"We'll see, Phoebus- I've got a lot of people I have to make happy, unfortunately." Edgar muttered as a cart containing a large device was wheeled in along with several freeze rays that looked- heavily modified. "I'm not sure motion canceling weapons are going to work on something thats made of psychic energy, Phoebus."
[Trigger: Classified Information]
"Not on their own, no. I made some….proprietary modifications," Phoebus said smoothly, not explaining in a way Edgar recognized- he wasn't going to get information out of him on this one.
"Fine, keep your secrets. You have step one and step two: what's step three?"
"Step three is a containment unit we're assembling back on one of the ships: we're repurposing some of the stationary force field technology to create what should, hopefully, be a ghost-proof box."
…Edgar nodded, slowly. "Okay. I don't know if I like the plan, but it's got my go ahead. I want to be here when you try this, though. When are we activating the amplifier? How long until we initiate?"
Phoebus' grin didn't shift an iota. "We can do it now if you want, Doctor- the machine doesn't have a long range so we should be safe so long as we stay behind the line, and I bet that once we activate it our Onryo will make an appearance."
Edgar frowned…then gave another nod. "Alright. Prepare for activation, then."
"This is Davian Phoebus to team, we have the go ahead: containment squad, please commence with preparations for activation," He said as C-Files agents began to man the terminals, the containment squad hooking up their modified freeze rays to the unidentified machine on the cart via cable and fanning out. Phoebus took a step back- as did Edgar, who watched as the tech-team at the control unit gave a thumbs up. "Alright, everyone looks to be clear of the line," Davian noted. "Does anyone have any concerns before we begin?"
"We might not be in range to get fried, but should we worry about side effects? We are about to expose ourselves to an unknown machine based on principles that resulted in a continent getting irradiated- should we maybe be concerned about long term effects?" Edgar pointed out.
"That's what Rad-Away and Bio-Serum is for," Davian argued, and Edgar furrowed his brow, noting that maybe figuring out how to completely negate the long term complications of radiation had maybe bred a few irresponsible habits.
…Oh well, he didn't expect to live to old age anyways. "No questions, then," Edgar commented.
"Alright- everyone, make sure you're prepared for any phenomena," Phoebus said. "Activate on my count: Five. Four. Three."
Edgar felt a chill down his neck, and felt Weird Radio go silent. They were here. "Two. One." The lights flickered and dimmed as the antennae of the emitter gave a soft green glow.
[Trigger: Psychic Amplifier Exposure]
[Trigger: Repeated Ultracite Exposure]
[Trigger: 450 Wrath]
[Event Triggered: The Mad Man and the Pale Terror]
The glow brightened- and in the hue, they saw them her appear, colorless. Edgar recognized her from their last encounter it was like finding a flame in the shadows crawling among the vermin. Unkempt, filthy hair Hadn't been able to cut it by the end, it had kept growing and growing grey, grime coated skin pale as a corpse Hadn't been given water rations less water rations each year thirsty thirsty water rations can't soap thirsty, filth. Filth filth filth, clad in a hospital gown only thing she had left by the end. The clothes hadn't changed, Edgar noted, though his primary attention was currently occupied with trying to filter the strange and incomprehensible stream of information and stimuli he was receiving the flame hurt to look at now
Edgar clutched his head, barely avoiding falling backward as he attempted to force the thoughts out, biting his cheek severely enough to draw blood. The thing- the ghost-it was angry- it raised its arms and wailed as it became easier and easier to see, parting its hair from in front of its mouth- revealing a jaw that was steadily stretching open far past what a human body was capable of, wailing getting louder and louder-
"Fire!"
From across the room, the ghost was hit by one, two, three- bright, brilliant blue streams of light, fired from the barrels of the modified freeze rays. The spirit thrashed, screaming increasing in pitch- to the point Edgar's ears began to hurt.
"It's working!" Phoebus cried, excited as he was fed information from the diagnostic monitors over comms. "There's a sharp spike in zeta radiation and other particles- we've successfully transformed it into ecto-photons!"
"The…freeze rays…"
"Modified to incorporate ultracite for power and high power protonic manipulators," Phoebus admitted with glee as the temperature began to drop- and lightbulbs began to explode as a result of the entities struggles- Edgar felt his teeth floating in his mouth. "They seem to be working! Containment team, if you can get a clear sight, fire! We need to exhaust their supply of energy!"
More and more of the weapons fired- until each and every one of the ecto-freeze rays were firing on the spirit, which had deformed to near inhuman conditions as it viciously tried to free itself-
The guns were going to fail in a few moments. They had stalled it- but they had laid the trap with bait far too rich. Each moment, it absorbed more and more. Edgar realized in a moment of forced foresight as he saw the next few minutes pass before his eye in the blink of an eye- Phoebus was right.
This thing was a paranatural entity of semi-psychic origin that was at least partially fueled by anger.
They had not only fed it an amplifier strong enough to fry a normal human, they had done it in the vicinity of a psychic anomaly that was also fueled by the exact same psychic X factor.
One at a time, each gun would burn out, unable to carry the load of sustained fire-
"Give your guns time to cool down!" Edgar croaked over comms, barely forcing it out, and causing a nosebleed as he felt some- invisible axis of time- shift, as the containment team began to stagger their fire, the ones with the most heated weapons letting up and giving their weapons time to cool down.
Edgar quickly wiped his nose as he chuckled, giving a fierce grin as he stared at the phantasm- which had seen him. "Right here," He said under his breath as he looked them in the face, deciding that he didn't like what he saw at the end of option A-
-And immediately being confronted with a new path, assembled from psychic impression and his mind operating at faster and faster speeds to collect and process information. Edgar had stymied the entity- but only for a time, and made in angrier in the process. The guns were still going to burn out, and when they did, the ultracite powered ghost would start killing the containment team, one by one, and make Edgar watched until he was the last one left-
Edgar walked the the machine housing whatever the freeze rays were connected to.
[Required: At least 7 Mischief Dice]
He began to rapidly rewire the device, letting his intuition take him as he got into a frenzy, Phoebus finally turning and noting his odd behavior. "Hey, what are you-"
"No time to explain, if I don't, we all die!" Edgar snarled as he quickly finished doing what he was pretty sure was correcting the field modulation of a proton-negator- improving output- and quantum-electric distributors- increasing load capacity. "Ha! You aren't the only one that can cheat, you knock off halloween horror hoax!" He taunted the Onryo as he felt his headache spike in severity.
The entity shrieked, now looking- completely distorted. Almost unrecognizeable as a human- more an unsettling and abstract collection of shapes that resembled some sort of mosaic collection of grey geometric, painful inkblots with spiderline cracks and hairs branching off.
And the future changed again. It was exerting power now. And it knew Edgar could hear it, in some way, and predict its future. It snarled at him, enraged at his taunts- and genuinely being hampered.
But now that it knew that there was a connection, it reached out and-
…
…
…
…Would you like to hear a story, Edgar? Once there was a young woman. She no longer remembers her name. She was an orphan, born to one of the suspect races. Her parents had been murdered when she was too young to speak, and she had no family to take care of her, so she was given to a state run orphanage.
Bullied and heckled most of her childhood, eventually she snapped, and punched another child- a caucasian, not a particularly rich one, but one whose family was still respected enough to see her charged for assault. As punishment, she had been sentenced to MEGAMAX: they no longer had juvenile facilities now, and there was no special court for minors.
The judge had been lenient: because she was a minor, she wouldn't spend her entire life in prison, just however many years it took her to become a productive member of society.
The next few years, the girl would toil in backbreaking labour in MEGAMAX's heavy manufacturing wing- being quiet, doing her best to not make trouble, trying to look good for her eventual parole hearing.
She hoped that by being a good prisoner, she might be able to get out. Given little food rations, little time to rest, and forced to perform exhausting work assembling warbots, her strength dwindled more and more- until she began collapsing.
The girl did her best to conceal these moments- she didn't want them to affect her parole. On her sixteenth birthday, she had her FIRST parole hearing. And her first denial- the reason?
'Guards have observed several moments where you took unsanctioned rests. Clearly, if you're lazy enough to sleep on shift, you haven't learned to be a productive member of society'.
As a birthday present, her hours were reduced slightly and she was given increased rations- now that she wasn't going anywhere, they couldn't have her constantly falling over, after all.
Her next parole hearing wouldn't be for another two years- and so the girl toiled, eventually earning a transfer to the assembly line- which was still hard, painful work, but it was a little safer and a little less miserable, though that wasn't saying much.
There was another upside though, or so the girl thought: prisoners who worked on the assembly line were allowed to talk to each other, so long as they were quiet. She began to make friends, almost- an old man who looked at her with sad eyes. Another girl and boy who were around her age- who conspired with each other, sometimes. A lady who reminded her of some of her caretakers at the orphanage. And a hunched man- white, which was unusual, one who had a look in his eyes- a sneaky and clever look.
His name had been Larry- or so he said. He lied about why he had been sent to MEGAMAX every time he was asked- some days, he claimed to be a legendary revolutionary who had only been detained after days of fighting. Other days, he claimed he was a chemist who had been caught selling home-made crystal pervitin to afford cancer treatment. Occasionally, he claimed he was a scientist who had been sold out for political reasons to the petroenergy companies after creating a synthetic clean burning petroleum alternative. Sometimes, he claimed he was innocent, framed for a crime he did not commit- this always the one that sounded closest to the truth.
But he was nice, helping to pick up slack when others were tired, giving them some of his rations when their own weren't enough, and he could even get items from outside the prison like candy bars every now and again- somehow. 'I've got friends, here and there, and some of the guards owe me for a few favors- now shut up and enjoy the choko, kid'.
When the old man had started collapsing, Larry convinced a few other people to help pick up his slack. When the other girl got caught with contraband, Larry took her punishment. And, when the guards weren't watching and they didn't have cameras pointed at them, Larry would do his best to cheer up the cell-block: spinning lies about freedom fighters in Perth in order to give them the hope that they might get out of here at some point.
Larry had been friends with a lot of people- including the Girl. One of the first bright spots in the miserable years long experience, her friendship with Larry helped her get through dozens of exhausting shifts- the pair frequently discussing what they planned to do when they got out. The girl looked forward to the day she no longer had to spend most of the week working twenty hour workdays- and could have real food again, as much as she could eat. When she told Larry this, he gave her a sad smile- the same look in his eyes as the old man, like he knew something terrible, but didn't have the words to explain it to her. 'Good on ya kiddo- me, when all is done, I think I'm gonna get meself a boat. Finally sail away from all of this- figure if I paddle far enough, I'll reach some place where there aren't bastards, finally. There's got to be some place that hasn't gone to shit.'
Then, a few months before her parole, the girl had been pulled away by the guards- the overseer of her cell district had observed she was due for a parole hearing soon. He told her- if she wanted the board to clear her, she'd need to be more cooperative.
They had noticed her friendship with Larry- if she agreed to rat him out, the Overseer would personal testify in her favor. Frightened, she agreed- informing the Overseer of how Larry somehow got items from outside the prison.
The overseer smiled, thanked her for being a credit to her race, and sent her back to her cell. The next day, she hadn't been able to look Larry in the eye. The day after that, he was gone.
The day after that there was an announcement in the cell block- Larry had been executed for smuggling illegal items into the cell block. They intended to punish the entire block for not turning him in: a sharp cut to rations…to which the girl was exempted, given clear preferential treatment by the enforcers.
Soon, her parole hearing came, and the girl was given a glowing review by the overseer, and released back onto the street…with nothing to her name and no one to go to, forcing her to sleep under a bridge.
The next day, she attempted to find work…and was chased off by angry store workers who didn't want some unwashed vagrant hanging around. Another day, she slept under a bridge- during storm season. Shivering, cold, and miserable, the girl turned 18, and became a woman.
The woman would try again to find honest work the next day- and be arrested for vagrancy and harassing people. Sentenced to MEGAMAX, she would find herself in front of her old overseer, who gave her a disappointed sigh at the fact that she couldn't keep her nose clean for more than three days.
Well, he probably shouldn't have expected anything from a like her. The good news was, she wouldn't be his problem any more- there was an opening in F Block. Waste processing. Dragged off kicking and screaming, the woman was forced into a cell again.
The new block worked on processing foul, horrific chemicals. Sewage from the city- converted to fertilizer for agrimax. Medical waste- recycled into medicine, industrial material. Polluted water- filtered to the point of drinkability. Every day, the woman had been forced into leaky protection gear and wade chest deep into the foulest possible substances you can imagine in order to clean filtration units of blockages- inhaling things no one should be forced to inhale, smelling things so rancid that it caused some people to eventually go mad, smashing their brains out against a wall.
And by this point- people knew. Word had filtered through MEGAMAX- about how she had sold out Larry for some cushy treatment- they might not have known who Larry was, but they didn't need to- all they had to know was that she was a rat. The hatred she was treated with was only barely eclipsed by the hatred she held to her self- and yet, over time, day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day, what capacity she had to focus on anything other than survival waned.
Then came an announcement: MEGAMAX was looking for volunteers for medical testing. Those who signed up would get additional rations- and exemption from work. Desperate, near frenzied from the horror that was her life, the woman signed up.
The next few months were spent in a haze of red agony.
Unlike most others, the woman survived, however. Though in the coming days she would begin to wish she hadn't. Her mind finally on the verge of shattering, the woman had only barely begun to piece herself together again when she heard another announcement.
Lockdown triggered in the following cell blocks: B, D, E, F…
The automated security would trap the residents of these blocks within. No one got out, nothing got in. Including rations. One by one by one the residents began to either starve, go mad, or resort to desperate measures- and finally the womans mind would snap, and she would lose her last grip on reality, after she had eventually been forced to consume human flesh to survive.
Can you imagine that, Edgar? Having your hope shattered over, and over and over again, until every part of you that was human is gone?
…
Do you know how this story ends? I think you do. The woman survives for some time, in the dark, alongside the dwindling amount of people who are left. At first, food is abundant again- the amount of people who died means there's plenty of corpses to consume. Reduced to scavenging, but still near feral, she spends her final days scurrying in shadow.
But even preserved flesh eventually rots- and eventually becomes inedible. It became harder and harder to find fresh corpses- and the woman was forced to kill others to eat their meat instead of scavenging those dead other means.
I still remember what it was like. I didn't want to do it. I was just so hungry- the only thing I had been able to find was foul flesh. Eating it made me- sick. Sicker and sicker. I needed- I needed fresh meat.
But even this began to run out, and the woman continued to starve, out of options. Like a rat in a cage after the lab had been shut down, she died in the dark, unable to escape, body eventually withering into nothing, leaving behind all her hatred, all her fury, all the rage she had filled the empty hollow of her soul with.
The woman died, and I survived.
And I waited. And I watched.
Until one day I saw something strange- men in strange metal armor, led by something wretched. I appeared. I studied. I watched. And I waited. And I learned.
And I learned.
And I learned.
And. I. Learned.
And as I watch these cruel, evil little tin men in tin suits and tin hearts crawl around, with the same evil in their heart that had seen her broken. Defiling this place to learn its secrets so they can use them to commit new horrors- and crawl into the wreckage of her tomb like a hermit crab.
And then those men decided to feed me.
I'm going to look forward to breaking your spine.
…
…
…
[Trigger: Wrath: 450]
…Is this thing on? Hello hello? Am I coming through?
What? What- Who-
Oh goodie, it's working. The connection is two way. I must say, I take it back, you are MUCH more interesting than a halloween horror hoax.
What is this? How are you doing this?
Edgar stared at the spirit, chuckling humorlessly. "I'm the worlds smartest man," He said without mirth- words inaudible over the screech of the onryo in the trap, but heard by the thing as it thrashed against the restraints. "You used the amplifier and your own abilities to create a link."
And now, I'm using that link. And please, don't call me Edgar. That's my government name.
The entity roared, and the beams wavered. "Load is increasing!" One of the containment techs said, terrified.
"Lower your outputs! Let her wear herself out!" Phoebus yelled.
It doesn't matter. You can't hold me forever- your little tricks won't save you, little magician. You will run out, and I will do to you what I wish I could do to the overseer who tricked her.
Fascinating- do you realize you seem to interchangeably think of your former life as yourself and a different person? Ah, but we have more important things to cover. You want to hurt people, and you know what? I understand. But I can't let you do that- these people are unfortunately too important to kill.
You can't stop me.
Y'know, I think I could actually. You're powerful- but not infinitely. But trying by force- that would destroy you. And that would be such a waste- so instead I'm going to make a pitch. Your anger- it's impressive! But it's poorly aimed.
The spirit grew quiet for a moment- finally puzzled, the color eating kaleidoscope slowing in its shifting- slightly.
Bear with me for a moment- this is going to be a long one.
Lets say you kill every person here. Then what? You've gotten rid of a few evil people, sure- but more are going to come. Over and over, they are going to come, using more and more advanced technology until either you're finally vaporized for good or the world ends. All while people suffer and die- the same way you suffer and died. In the end, all you will have accomplished in the end is absolutely nothing- especially since every last person you would have killed is almost certain to die anyways. You don't know much about the geopolitical situation, but to sum it up, at the moment the question is no longer if or how the world ends, it's a matter of when the nukes launch and reduce us all to atoms.
You've seen what they're like, these tin men. They're just as evil as the men who murdered you- they're just earlier on the track. Everything you went through- we're in the opening stages of back home. And just like the state that did this to you, it's all going to end in hellfire. Millions of people- will suffer and die just like you did.
Work with me- surrender to containment. Then I can free you- and you can help me make sure the bastards doing this, the architects of misery- pay.
You want to murder. You want to kill. That- I admire. But you need to learn how to maximize the efficiency of who you kill- that's my pitch. Join me, help me change the world- and I'll help you fulfill your potential.
…You are a BOLD one, Edgar.
Please, I told you. That's just my government name- the one I use during the day. You?
Can call me by my real name.
Mr. Midnight.
Silence reigned…
"Load is dropping! It looks like…she's surrendering?" The technician on hand said, surprised, and in front of Edgar's eyes, he watched the apparition- normalize, it's body untwisting, unfolding, unbending until the spirit resembled it's original form.
Alright. You've piqued my interest. I'll hold my hand…for now. But you had best not disappoint me, Mr. Midnight.
"Alright, get a transport unit," Phoebus said, heedless to Edgar, who looked on the spirit, which leered at him, a grin on it's face.
And so a deal was struck between the Pale Terror and the Mad Man of RADICAL.
Gain the following side quest:
Unleashing the Pale Terror: You had made a deal with a paranatural entity- an incredibly angry ghost. You were going to help her kill a lot of people- under RADICAL's banner. But to harness her power, first you needed to understand it. Complete E-001 Documentation- then perform a combat tagged mischief action on the C-Files or in Sunken Parish to liberate E-001. Reward: Pale Terror begins work as a paranatural minion of RADICAL, increasing factional Tales of Terror stat by 3
And the following cryptid for documentation:
E-001 "Pale Terror" [Energy, Mischief, Prototype]: A paranatural creature documented as the first E- for Entity- class cryptid, it appeared to be some sort of semi-psychic energy being resembling a nearly cadaverously emaciated human woman.
The Terror would be taken back to the ship, and placed into containment- content for now to listen to Edgar's advice, though the man knew he would need to move quickly once the expedition was over to secure her loyalty.
With his ghost hunt a success, Edgar would also earn an additional Weird Token- when this event ends, each additional Weird Token increases the brain rank of the selected by 1 per token.
Soon, however, he would be needed: the sewer exploration team had found something. They needed both Edgar and Fowler immediately- little did Edgar realize he was walking into a terrible showdown. Tune in next time, dear patriot, for the finale of Team America Issue Number Two: From Beyond!
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There are going to be four more updates for this event. This turns finale, a special interlude, and the final turn. After that is the event finale and wrap-up. Buckle up, this is as tame as this event gets- I'm going to be channelling my inner Kojima for these next few.
