[center][h3]Isaac & Hermes[/h3][/center] [hr][center][sub][b]~Collaboration Between~[/b] [@Zyx] & [@Terminal][/sub][/center][hr] Waking up had never been a very pleasant affair, even back in his old body. It ended up being a whole endeavor more often than not, and the same held true even now that his flesh had been replaced by smart-matter, and brain by a comparably advanced computer. The only difference now was that there were no cranial nerves left to induce pain when the blindingly bright fluorescents he’d installed several centuries ago stabbed at his eyes. Rising from the slab upon which his newest vessel had been placed, Isaac did a quick diagnostics check before shuffling off, his feet meeting cold stone with a thud. A quick glance about the chamber told him everything was still exactly as he’d left it, meaning his former crewmates hadn’t managed to find and sack the place in his absence yet. [i]'Thank god they lack the sense and equipment to perform deep topological scans.'[/i] He made his way over to the drexler he’d been assigned then, running his hand across the surface to boot the machine up. One routine systems check later and the device was ready to assemble more units, which Holcomb knew he’d need in the coming months as his existing forces were slowly whittled down by Olympus’ defense grid, to say nothing of the weapons wielded by his colleagues. Bringing up a display in his field of vision, he ordered the printing of additional reconnaissance drones, grabbing the first one to slide out the other end of the assembler and activating it. Another mental command was given and the drone sent off, soon to be joined by more of its brethren, their task being to survey the surrounding region for any lingering surprises or threats, before eventually pushing south to monitor the gods themselves. As his initial diagnostics check ended and his deeper, full-system check began, Isaac could not shake off the sudden feeling that something was wrong. Off, somehow… physically. Nothing seemed immediately remiss, but there was no such thing as being too careful, so he pulled up a view of his current body’s specifications, all memorized. As he went down the list, tallying each notation off, his eyes suddenly fell on [i]weight[/i]. The figure was off. His body was exactly half a gram heavier than it should have been. Now, he wasn’t a man skilled in any manner of molecular science, but he was good at keeping track of things - and the weight shouldn’t have been off by so much as a nanogram considering the consistent readings all of his previous vessels had given him. [i]'Something’s not right… the warforms are designed to fit an exact weight and density specification…'[/i] He glanced down at the rest of his body and flexed his fingers a bit. “Someone’s been messing with my shit. I swear to Christ, if one of those bastards managed to compromise this place…” He then checked the logs for his specifications to figure out when they had managed to infiltrate his den - only to find an even more unexpected reading. His weight had ticked up two seconds into his boot sequence, less than a minute ago. [i]'Alright, let’s think about this for a moment. Out of every twat living on that mountain, which one would be most capable of either sneaking past my defenses or teleporting something to me?'[/i] He shook his head with a binaric growl. [i]'Hermes… it has to be him.'[/i] Seeing that nothing was currently trying to breach the encryption on his vessel in any way, or otherwise compromise it, Isaac was able to rule out malicious intent fairly quickly. Which left him with only two real options. Either this was another one of his shitty pranks–or more likely–he’d transported something onto or inside his vessel. Granted, that didn’t completely rule out the possibility that it might be a prank. Hell, the last time something like this had happened the god’s mailman had sent one of those canned snakes to him, a product Holcomb could’ve sworn had gone out of fashion back home several decades ago. [i]'At least he hasn’t graduated to sending actual explosives. Yet.'[/i] Rolling his shoulders slightly, Isaac bade his vessel morph until he caught sight of the item that was adding the extra weight. What seemed to be a letter of some kind, written on actual parchment at that, taped directly to his back. “Huh. Didn’t Fletcher always use these things for formal occasions? What are you up to Hermes…” Opening the letter, Isaac began to read. And, though his face could no longer show any manner of physical emotion, had any other sapient been standing in that chamber with him at that exact moment, they would have seen a machine’s best approximation of shock. [center][h3]BY DECREE OF THE LORD OF OLYMPUS[/h3] The Highest, King of the Gods, Father of All: [b]ZEUS[/b] Let it be known that Zeus is dead. His rightful Heir – forever may he rule – has succeeded him to the divine name and mantle of Zeus. Apate, Goddess of Deceit, is formally invited to a gathering of the High Pantheon at Zeus’ palace in Mount Olympus, on the noon of the day following receipt of this note. Zeus will accept oaths of fealty, and make the first announcements of his reign. Signed, Zelos Majordomo of the Highest Palace, Servant of Zeus Almighty[/center] The mechanically precise cursive of the letter had clearly been printed - but appended to its end was a shaky, handwritten line in faded silver ink. [i]P.S. The entire high pantheon and their immediate scions are going to be present. You will find a two-meter cubed volume of prefab stock for your Drexler approximately two kilometers North by Northwest from your current position. Do with it what you will.[/i] “Well I’ll be damned. Fletcher fucked off the mortal coil but had the foresight to name a successor before he did?” He brought a hand up to his forehead. “Sometimes I’m glad he was so concerned with laying pipe and being a narcissist all these years. God forbid he actually uses his intelligence for anything truly ambitious. Hmm. And who’s this Apate it mentions? Another so-called god added to the pile?” Had he lungs, he would sigh. “They just keep fucking multiplying. That or Skor retired and someone else took her place. Still, this situation isn’t entirely unsalvageable. I can’t help but wonder just how long I can keep trusting Hermes, though. In any system it’s always the self-serving elements that are the most dangerous.” Folding the letter, he set it down in a small compartment he’d managed to install on the drexler for storage purposes, and turned his gaze toward the twisting expanse of tunnel that served as his entry point to and from the surface. “Still, a tool is a tool. So long as he keeps proving himself a benefit to me, I’ll hold off on his execution.”