[b]Isabelle[/b]

You and Asil arrive to see Adriana using her sword to cut the door out of the wall, she’s almost done, half of it is off and the hinges are cut. Marcina is standing nearby, and she’s got a handful of workers. There’s a big server rack in front of the door though, so even with it being removed, she’s still got to cut her way through that as well.

Marcina gestures for one of the aids to take the coffees you bring, but Adriana and Marcina themselves have their hands full with the scene. This definitely didn’t go according to plan.

Though, thankfully, you do suddenly get some help. “Isabelle, Dolly?” Matty is on the comms now, after an extended silence. She sounds a little sheepish. “Um…it seems like Mirror actually invited Adriana to come stop her, based on the cockpit feed I have. But um…Jade also invited Angela to come help, and I’ve set Ksharta and Kiriala to come help you as well, Kiriala is actually above you right now. But I’m not really sure what Mirror wanted, so I’m asking everyone to wait I guess? Maybe she wants the broadcast to come back in at the end, now that her big attack is over? Or maybe not and she just thought this would be fun. I’m…not sure, but I don’t want anybody to get hurt, so we’ll try and get you out when the moment is right.”

***

[b]Dolly[/b]

Sam gives you a hug back, with a little squeeze. She’s also blushing profusely! 

You see one of the doors come off at its hinges, and from behind the server rack you’ve set up, you can see half the body of Adriana Teresio, the most powerful woman in the Terenius Consortium! You may also recall her intoxicating flower dress from the Crystal Gala. Behind her are more vague outlines of several people, and what looks somewhat like Isabelle arriving in a rush from around a corner.

You get the same message as Isabelle did from Matty. So help is on the way, some of it very close. But you need to create the right opportunity to set it up. 

***

[b]Matty[/b]

Mirror told you that you would need to “play soldiers” to get everyone out, but you’re not quite sure what that means. You think it means something like playing with dolls combined with Hybrasil super spies, which is why you’ve got Kiriala positioned in an air duct above the hallway. You’re waiting until Angela arrives, which will be a few minutes and will shake the whole building like Adriana’s arrival, which should probably create an opening.

You fidget impatiently though and sit up on your feet in your chair. Is that too long? She’s already got a door off, and you’re not sure if Isabelle can slow her down again with the whole crowd of people there too. And who knows what Dolly can do, you’ve only heard her squeaking so far and it sounds like she got really distractedly. 

***

[b]Jade[/b]

The camera drones whisper and chant. But they do not speak in response to you. Their spirits are too simple. Like jackals, but also unlike any jackals you have ever met. They feel old to you, old and heavy and not at all like Hybrasilians. They move like birds. You catch a few, tear them apart, and the spirits within are feathered, simple and ancient. They are feeding data to something else. Something full of animating force. 

Within the depths, something stirs. An amalgamation of spirits. It looks at you with its burning heart and its burning eye that glows white and green like your own smokeless fires. 

“We are Trak’tho. What was left. What will be. We have been given a vessel. You will clear the way for us.”

***

[b]Mirror, Solarel[/b]

You fall together, you fly together. Beneath you, something stirs.

The world, free of time, nevertheless changes. The pattern shifts, concentrates, coalesces. A pile of dead nanobots rises, and as it does, the nanobots stream off of it in cascading waves. 

What was left of the Aeteline is a skeletal mess of the original. The outer armor has been utterly disintegrated, the purple highlights entirely wiped out in the blast of pure energy at the heart of all matter. The remaining body, the interior exoskeleton, the core protections, and the internal systems turned to plasma and then cooled, leaving it malformed and broken. Joints that have run together in a mess of metal should not be able to articulate. Thin, narrow limbs that are barely a wisp of solid matter should not be able to support it. And yet, a single, baleful eye of green-white fire stares at you from a gaunt, skeletal frame formed around its unchecked core drive. Its blade of flame forms in its hand.

It hums in tune with the camera drones, but larger and deeper. Slowly, it forms words that reverberate so deeply you can barely hear them. “With…power…there is…no need…for tactics.”