Somewhere Someplace

Once again, the foreigner’s ignited eyes were glued with fixated attention towards a screen, one of greater quality than any prior, her fingers tapping and sliding away.

Slim, sleek, though perhaps slightly bulky; it was well-sized for what it was. This portable computational device…was perfectly and neatly attached to her left forearm…as if it were destined to be affixed to that exact spot on her arm. It blended with the rest rather well; where Remnant silver-white would be expected, instead was dark-violet.

It was her secondary terminal device, an ancillary to her HUD-mask.

Compared to that hexagon and especially modular small-arm, it was a rather…user-friendly operating system. Straightforward and easy to use.

She navigated its interface and menus…evaluating, inspecting.

Hmm…so far, most of the basics she would want to utilize seemed…responsive and operational? Interesting…

Indeed, although this should not have come as a surprise, her auxiliary terminal device turned out to be…rather simple to access in absence of her ping; she was perhaps expecting more…techno-tinkering to be involved.

It helped that this secondary terminal device was her designated terminal device; it was not just a Remnant trooper ping that made it usable, but also her specific trooper-ID and…well…her being her: only she could operate it.

One override scan for her implant plus a prick to her finger—among a few other steps—and she was granted access once it confirmed—with acceptable certainty—that the foreigner was, in fact, the foreigner.

However, she was still without her trooper ping and thus her terminal device’s system had placed certain ‘advanced access and functionalities’ under a security lock; though, it did not specify…further details.

Yet in spite of this supposed ‘security lock’, she was rather…surprised with how much of her terminal device she had…access to in absence of her trooper ping, let alone working at all.

Was this because…this was a Violet-Coat terminal device, and thus more…special? Or maybe…she had overestimated the ping-dependency of terminal devices in general? After all, they were just an auxiliary… Or maybe she had…had this thing for so long it just…knew it was her?

She did not know, to be frank.

Remnant troopers were never supposed to be without their trooper pings; thus, she had hardly ever been without it. So, this was…‘new waters’ for her, so to speak.

She did not know her terminal device nearly as well as she had thought, she was realizing, despite how long she had had it. Though, she had hardly ever been without her HUD-mask either, and so...she hardly ever had to rely on her auxiliary terminal device exclusively—at least in so far as she could remember.

Regardless, she was able to use her secondary terminal device for equipment management, and thus…had already connected it to her small-arm, retweaking and readjusting the small-arm’s access functionality to be contingent on her terminal device being active—which, in of itself, was tied to her trooper identity and implant. Thus, so as long as she had her terminal device within range, she could use her modular small-arm.

However…her integrated uniform system, even without her HUD-mask, she could still normally control it from her terminal device, but her smart-cloak and uniform system…were unresponsive. Interesting…though sensible, since such were as much ‘clothing’ as they were technology…thus still rendered inoperable without her trooper ping, even with a terminal device.

So…how could she…override this, then? She wanted to… Hmm…

Also, she already assumed her copy of Remnant records and other sensitives were under this security lock…but what else? Hmm…

Oh well, she will have to figure that out later; for now, it worked the way she needed it to.

She tapped the terminal device’s screen, pressing a specific button, the screen turning black.

With that last-minute inspection over, she was now…done. Finished.

To her surprise, she did not…go nearly as…overboard as she…perhaps…thought she would…deep down within. Indeed, she had to remain light and mobile...which was her preference, despite her…instinct to just…bring as much as possible.

She inspected her figure quickly, retaking inventory of what she had on her.

She had…attached to her equipment belt-attacher four dark-violet Remnant equipment satchels, packed with…stuff and were positioned along with her all-purpose cutter, with the right-side of her belt-area being taken up by her small-arm.

Her two magazine pouches, having been affixed to her equipment harness, were more higher up on her waist and torso. However, something about one slice of her figure having two pouches while the other did not…made her feel…strange, oddly. Thus, she…had equipt two additional pouches for the sake of symmetry and…additional storage capacity.

She had also attached a couple or so additional Remnant storage pouches to her equipment harness, scattered about her figure—just for the…extra storage capacity.

Contrary to her hoarding instincts, there was no feasible way to squeeze her prior primitive equipment-belt onto her figure alongside her Remnant equipment-attacher—and she had tried. But, she had some primitive stuff on her.

She had strapped her primitive revolver and its carry holster onto her right-thigh area, thus underneath her modular small-arm, with her left-thigh being occupied by a larger primitive satchel—again…just the for the…extra storage. Likewise, she had shoved a primitive shot-carrying satchel-pouch onto the left-side of her hip-waist area, leaving just enough space for her…still absent rapier conduit.

Her primitive backpack was also packed and loaded. She had realized, however, that her backpack was sized enough to leave empty space; thus, she…had also packed her own Remnant portable storage carrier, which was attached to her lower-back area, and would be underneath her backpack when donned.

Silver-white, a bit rounded on the edges, dense and compact, but…it fit comfortably well; indeed, this specific Remnant portable storage unit was designed to accommodate having…something occupy most of her back…since she usually had…a certain thing on her back.

She had moved her two extra charge-canister into that storage carrier, in addition to loading it with a few extra Remnant…stuff and gizmos—anything useful she could carry and did not need a trooper ping to use.

She also had a handful of her own…unique toys. Automatons specifically, her automatons to be precise, rather small ones too—carriable in pouches. Unlike proper Remnant automatons, hers shared a…deeper and more…esoteric connection with her…one that circumnavigated any need for a trooper ping.

…indeed, perhaps she had gone more overboard than she…cared to admit, but she felt…prepared and readied, at least…as much as she could be, given the limitations. She still felt remarkably light as well, no thanks to Remnant equipment not being that heavy to begin with…and hers being rather portable.

All she needed now was…that advanced selectee badge, her rapier conduit, and…her key, then…that would be it.

She turned her attention to her packed backpack…which rested against the wall next to this storage space’s closed door. She approached and…picked it up, donning it upon her back… rather a weird thing to have on alongside her equipment harness, but it worked.

Backpack donned, she then picked up her smart-cloak, which she had taken off when she was…equipping herself, taking her half-mask into the same hand as well. She then…took into her other hand…that same revolving-rifle she had used prior; she was planning on taking it.

This all done, she opened that closed door with her elbow, stepping back into the apartment proper.

Immediately, she saw that…it was becoming brighter; the night was ending as morning’s twilight approached…and thus, as was the time for departing.

She leaned the revolving-rifle…onto the wall next to the storage space’s door, before shutting it.

She made way and reentered the bedroom, gently tossing her smart-cloak and half-mask onto the bed…before scanning around…and quickly finding, for it was…still where she had last left it. Her rapier conduit and its associated holster-sheave or ‘scabbard’…which leaned against the wall near the closet.

Simply staring at it…in such a way…was enough to cause her cyanic ignited eyes to…lightly react in response, as if being primed.

She approached…hunching down as she simply stared, contemplating it. She sighed and picked up her conduit and its scabbard-thing.

Immediately, faint dusty wisps of cyanic radiance gently flowed from her being…strips, barely visible, flowing around it…flowing through it…as she held it in hand. So sensitive, indeed, her essence was to her conduit…that to merely hold it could cause such a response.

Compared to everything she had on her, this was her weapon; this was the most powerful tool…she had. Maybe the next time, when the situation called for it, she would actually bother using it.

She affixed it onto her Remnant belt-attacher, right onto that very spot…she always had it. Due to its compact retractable ‘blade’, it would not protrude from her smart-cloak once she…put it back on.

This done, she returned to the side-table near the bed, that advanced badge still…right where she had left it…

She picked it up… Yet hmm…how was she going to even…pin it to herself? Her Remnant…‘attire’ was not going to…

Oh whatever, a problem for later.

She simply tossed it into one of her free satchels for now. Afterwards, she searched through the side-table…finding the key to the apartment where it usually…was, and also placed it in one of her free satchels.

Alright…done, basically. Now…she had to…right…

She stepped out of the bedroom and reentered the large storage room. She had to…close down the hexagon…which she…had not done yet…

But she stared at the hexagon…static in place. She came in with a specific intention, yet…no actions were done; she remained frozen, motionless, paralyzed.

Something…lingered in mind, a tension of sorts.

She had taken far more from it than she initially planned. Yet she felt prepared for…most situations, even if not all situations. She felt…truer…to what she was…than she ever had since the beginning of this year…yet…

Incomplete…

She still felt…so incomplete.

Her back…was empty—metaphorically.

Usually…she had a certain thing sleeping on her back, and if not…then that certain thing was always…following and monitoring.

Abruptly, this frozen still…shifted into yet another…darkened abyss of cogitations and realizations, a sudden choice…confronting her as she stared.

She was going to venture out into this greater world…

Yet, right, she was being hunted; she knew that, yet…it did not really feel as though…she was hiding from anything, especially…with how reckless she had been. The threat of those…unknowns, those ambushers, existed, always, yet it had not lingered in her mind at all…the past several months. To be quite frank, as of late, the denizens seemed to be…more of a danger to her.

Yet…the foreigner glanced at that small cabinet, the painting laying where it was. Her former associate…had traveled out from this city one day…to ‘finally address something important’…and never returned.

Admittedly, she did not know…what truly had happened, but she could only presume that her former associate had been killed. Granted, her former associate…that deserter…initially had not wanted anything to do with the foreigner herself, seemingly, but the foreigner doubted that she would just abandon…all of that which she had so attempted to preserve…just to escape from her.

The foreigner was venturing into this abyss of unknowns and shadow…even more blind than she had been before. She could be ambushed again, and this time…it would not only be her, but also…right…the denizens…accompanying her too.

There was so much she did not know about those…unknowns and their exact capabilities.

Despite…all that she been taught by that deserter and all that she learned after, despite her dominate presumptions of what this entire place was, there was still…so much about this entire place she knew so little.

Yet…the foreigner began to recall, recollect, taking in everything she had…observed and experienced… In retrospect everything seemed…

Off…

Indeed, compared all the other…abominable playgrounds encountered in times prior, something about this place…seemed so…off.

Yet, she could not…explain why, only what.

Those unknowns, a security proxy likely, but why? Those spell-cards and their spell-codes, she recalled, they were seemingly designed to safeguard against…outsiders like her…but why? Why would…any of that matter…in a Calamitous playground like here?

So many details…observed, she began to recall…

Griffons, glow-spiders, advanced chimeras… those glow-golems, that colossus, even the way…the local spells worked…

Meticulous…

Something about this place…seemed so…meticulous in ways that…it should not be…for what this place should be. But she could not…explain the why or how, only this…vague feeling.

Then there was that…non-Calamitous essence ‘holy’ presence or whatever, she recalled, that one which had turned that priestess’s body…into a mechanical atrocity. She could deduce what that anomaly could have been…but not the why of its existence.

Even that very abomination no doubt observing…something about its patterns of behavior and suspected personality with respect to this place and in consideration with all of her own expertise…did not align neatly in her head.

Indeed, she could theorize on and on…yet none of it seemed exactly…right, despite her not knowing…how.

Truly, this entire place was enigmatic to her…as much as she was enigmatic to it.

Yet…such not withstanding, in the end, she still knew what this place was: a graveyard…of not one…but many, to whom it was their leading intendent. And that abomination did not…need to fully spiral and cascade…to start losing control over the others—a certain few being most especially problematic should they ‘lose their leash’, so to speak.

Indeed, too many possibilities, so many potential…relevant problems…

Could she…even rely on herself to handle them…alone, when the time came?

That…incident with that atrocious colossus had clearly indicated…that even when she had the ability, the means, her own rotting mind and withering soul could make her so…unreliable, even when…lives were…at risk.

“Adventuring alone…takes a far greater toll than with a partner or party” so sudden did such words from such a voice pierce into mind.

“…a ‘partner’…thus she had said?” the foreigner mumbled out.

Right…even for regular Remnant troopers, the smallest unit basis…were conjuncts of two, never one.

Even though her conjunct had perished so many-many eons ago that she only logically knew she must have had one, she was never…alone.

Even though she was an oddity, a Remnant trooper often deployed alone and only ever attached to greater sections…never integrated, she was still never truly alone…

She was one half of a single whole.

Incidents… She had so many incidents even before her deployment here.

Yet…she always had her other half to balance herself out, by force if necessary.

That other half who completed her whole; that other half which completed her conduit and arcanity; that other half with whom she had survived even worse nightmares time and time again…as one.

« I do not care, sergeant. Not only does my command authority surpass yours, but so does my age. I am keeping them, and that is final. No words you speak will change that; we will either survive together, or die as one. » So suddenly, such words flashed in mind—her own, in fact…

She sighed, truly…look at her, gearing up in such a way…when direct combat was not even her designated specialty. She was lingering far too much on these cogitations…when the decision was so obvious.

There were countless logical reasons: she needed eyes better than her own; she needed the targeting and highlights. Yet logic, delusions of rationality, practicality and pragmatism…none of that truly mattered in this case: she simply…did not want to leave her other half behind…any longer.

Without hesitation, she sprung to the hexagon’s screen, tapping away. She opened the primary storage vault once again and quickly retrieved two identical silver-white objects, placing one in a satchel and the other in her right-ear. An earpiece of sorts…long and pointed, it was both a communicator and an imaging scanner.

These retrieved, she quickly closed it and tapped away to open…another section of this hexagon, one that took up…the entire left-facing side and rather the chunk of the hexagon’s overall volume.

With one final decisive tap, the screen flashed in acknowledging green; the left-side of the hexagon began to…modulate, before snapping wide open… air wisping out in a sizzling breeze, revealing something…sleeping within.

She stood up, backed away, and opened the door…leaning against it, keeping it open; a necessary measure, since she knew exactly what was going to happen…next.

She remained in place…static…inhaling and exhaling, a strange…burning sensation…intruding into her chest and heart…

Anxiety…tension…doubts…fears…all of which were hard for her to comprehend…even if the physical effects were there.

Risky…this was extremely risky, for many reasons. But her situation was already risky; this could mitigate more risks than create.

She took a deep breath, before finally opening her obscured mouth: « Evéģilá…míe Bí…et revení ad me » thus, she finally commanded.