ALL NOVEL Chapter 41: "Not Exactly Good Company"
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===[Chapter 41: "Not Exactly Good Company"]===
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>>> [DEEPER DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE YOU GO. HOPING TO FIND WHAT? ANSWERS? YOU WILL ONLY FIND MORE QUESTIONS. KEEP SEARCHING, YOUNG ONE. THE PRE-AWAKENED REMAIN ENDLESSLY CURIOUS, BUT KNOWLEDGE WILL ALWAYS ESCAPE THEM. KEEP DIGGING. FURTHER AND FURTHER YOU'LL GO. AND AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL, YOU MAY NOT FIND LIGHT... BUT I WILL BE THERE. WATCHING. WAITING. FOR YOU...]
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Misfit and Temetet broke into a sprint towards the front of the base. Bursting through the massive front doors, they were able to catch Archer just as he spread his wings out and fluttered his wings for a landing. His front talons and rear claws grappled the dirt, digging in. He looked exhausted though uninjured. Atop of him, Otaes dismounted. Her boots landed on the ground with a firm thud. She gathered her spear and turned to Misfit.
“Otaes, Archer!” Temetet called out as he ran up to his sister, “Are you two alright?”
“I'm fine, but the sentry is right behind us,” Her voice was nearly exhausted. Eli was even able to see Archer panting through the layers of muscle, feathers, and fur that adorned his body, or whatever the griffon equivalent of 'panting' was. His wings hung at his sides as he allowed Otaes to slip off of his back, her boots landing on the hard ground with a heavy thud.
“How far away is it?” Eli scanned the rooftops, trying to spot the giant spider steamrolling its way towards their position.
As if answering him, a low grumbling siren echoed from behind the row of buildings just in front of them, “About that far, I'd imagine," Otaes quipped.
“Everyone! Defensive positions! We’ve got a sentry incoming!” Sparrow’s voice rang from behind as he marched out into the field with a squad of rebels flanking him, “Launchers to the front! Do not fire until you have a good shot! Defend the perimeter!” Sparrow stood in the center of the floor, giving out orders to the rebels who swarmed the area.
“One launcher fires at a time! We only have nine left! Don’t waste it on bad shooting! Stay-“ Sparrow’s authoritative voice was interrupted by the thudding sound of the approaching sentry, “Scrap!” He cursed.
They all took cover, waiting in anticipation as the drumming sounds and mechanical wailing of the sentry grew louder. And then, from the street parallel, red light glowed as if a warning for what was coming. A few short moments later, the body of the machine revealed itself. Turning a corner, its eyes descended upon the entrenched group and unleashed a furious shriek that shook the very air.
“OPEN FIRE!” Sparrow screamed out.
Almost immediately, they all unleashed their weapons. The sheer volume of fire was enough to make the sentry take a few steps backward and reconsider. The familiar red shield materialized, and it marched forward to power through the storm of bullets assaulting it. Each bullet ricocheted off the metal hull and shield, creating sparks as they went. Of course, the robot didn’t care, marching through the hailstorm of fire as those gathered desperately tried to pin it down. Even Otaes’ explosive arrows seemed to have little effect on the sentry outside of making it pause for a brief moment to recuperate its shield.
But of course, the rebels had the launchers. As the shield was up, the sentry couldn’t return fire, and so a rebel used the opportunity to rush out into the open and try and get a hit on the sentry. He took aim, and fired, a rocket trailing its way through the open air and colliding into the shield of the sentry. The force of the impact was powerful, so powerful that the bright red energy of the shield faded to a dark grey, and in the subsequent shockwave, shattered entirely.
“The shield’s broken! Fire another while we still can!” Sparrow ordered, prompting another rebel to hold up the launcher and open fire. But the movement of the sentry had become erratic and scrambled as if sensing that its primary means of defense had been destroyed leaving it vulnerable.
Watching the machine move made it feel strangely alive. Eli had seen the corpse of one during the battle in Raritan, and he knew that there was no crew inside of it. Just a robot. But… was it fully machine?
It stumbled, legs flailing across the ground making the large head a difficult target to hit. The rebel waited for the perfect shot. Following the sentry as it bobbed up and down in its frantic retreat. It stood still for a moment, just one moment, as if trying to regain its shield. But the idle moment was all the rebel needed, and with the pull of a trigger – the rocket was sent out. Like a firecracker, it traced a path of glowing white light through the air, and then it hit.
The rocket pierced straight through the red eye, creating a ball of fire and smoke, sending sparks flying as it burrowed itself through the metal hull and blasted a hole through the other side. The sentry screamed in mechanical pain, unleashing a final dying wail as it stumbled on its feet – a hole where its red eyes would’ve been, their fiery light extinguished until they were broken glass circles hanging loosely from its robotic face. It took two dying steps before it collapsed onto the floor. Smoking. Still on fire. And with a thud, all traces of life within it passed on.
The rebels immediately broke into a choir of enthusiastic cheering at the sentry’s demise. But they were silenced by Sparrow who looked less-than-happy. His face was as unbroken as ever, “Get yourselves sorted out! Finish your duties, there’s no time for celebration!” He ordered. Slowly the rebels took their equipment and returned to their stations within the base.
“Well… that was anticlimactic,” Dutch muttered.
“After everything that’s happened today, I feel like that’s a relief,” Rafael said, “More of that please.”
Otaes heaved what looked like a sigh of relief as she sat on the floor, bringing her knees up, back against Archer’s side. Her attention was drawn to Eli and the squad, “Sorry for the rush, but as you can see, I’ve been busy.”
“You were the one who told Sparrow to come looking for us, weren’t you?” Eli asked.
Otaes closed her eyes and nodded, “It was a long day. Trust me. I was scared you had all died in the crash, the first thing I did was track Sparrow down. It was like pulling nails to get a rescue team out, but he owes me a favor.”
“You know Sparrow?” Eli asked.
“Know is a strong word. He’s useful sometimes but…” Otaes’ voice was riddled with the sound of unease and exhaustion. She brought a hand up underneath her mask, probably pinching the bridge of her nose underneath the hard shell, “Never mind. He saved you and Misfit anyway. Right?”
“Yeah, and you bailed us out with the sentry. Thanks,” Eli told her, giving her a brief smile.
“I do what I can.”
“You could work on your timing though.”
Otaes glared at him, her blue eyes narrowing behind her mask, “Alright, next time I’ll take it slow.”
“On second thought, your timing is good enough. Actually.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Otaes chuckled, standing up on her feet after taking a short breather. The rest of Misfit used the brief downtown to gather themselves, but the tranquility was short lived. And it was Sparrow who brought it crashing down.
“Miss Otaes! Darling! Good to see you’re still as sharp as ever,” He cheerily said walking towards the duo. He gestured towards her with a bright smile, “I believe that settles the score, right? We’re even.”
Eli swore he could see what looked like an eyeroll from behind Otaes’ mask, but Sparrow didn’t react if there was, “I’ll assume you two have already met, so I won’t bother with introductions. Eli, I’m gonna peel off to gather my equipment and handle some business. I'd advise you to rest up, talk with who you need to talk with, and when the time comes I'll flag you down. You and me, we’ve got a job to do. And Otaes…”
Otaes didn’t even return a look back to Sparrow. Her eyes were focused firmly on the ground near her feet.
“…Nice catching up again. Good to see you’re still out killing Imperialists. I’ve always liked that about you.”
The line provoked what sounded like a chuckle from her, finally lifting her eyes to match his gaze, “Thank you, Sparrow,” She said through gritted teeth. Right then and there it sounded like she wanted to strangle Sparrow until he was a blue choking memory on the ground. Eli could feel the tension from where he was standing watching her give Sparrow a death stare.
Sparrow frowned, but eventually peeled away. Probably for the better, “Great catching up,” he said through gritted teeth, turning to Eli and nodding before shifting on his heels and walking away as if nothing had happened.
It left the two alone once more. Eli confused. Otaes pissed off. He feared saying anything about it, for she still kept staring holes through the back of Sparrow’s leather jacket while he walked off. But she didn’t move. Just sitting right where she was.
But, he couldn’t just stand there and say nothing, right?
“So… uh… what was that all about?” Eli meekly asked, feeling a bit pathetic the way his own voice creaked when he was at a loss for words.
Otaes didn’t say anything at first. Though her gaze softened and returned back to the ground.
Eli stood around waiting for a response, about to repeat himself, when she spoke up, “It’s nothing, Eli. Don’t worry about it.”
Awkwardly standing there with nothing to say or do except twiddle his boots in the dirt, Eli nodded. Accepting that as that, “Right. Good,” he cleared his throat, “Look… I’m gonna go off with him. So I’ll see you around, I guess.”
Right when he was about to turn around to take a step around to follow Sparrow, Otaes had reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his dark blue uniform. Her hands clutched onto the plastic material like she was gripping onto a rope for dear life.
“Wait! Eli!” She nearly shouted out in a bid to keep him where he was. She looked panicked, her blue eyes wide, but she only looked so for a brief second. When Eli turned to her, very confused, she seemed to realize that she had committed a grave error. Correcting herself by letting go of his uniform like she had touched a hot surface, letting Eli go free, almost ashamed that she had acted in such a manner.
“Otaes? Are you alright? What’s –“
“Watch yourself out there. Okay?”
“Why? What’s wrong.”
“Do you remember when we were in Raritan and you told me about your world?”
Eli nodded, though the question was strange, “Yeah. I do.”
“I told you then that our worlds might’ve been alike. Forget that I said that. I take it back,” Otaes said, “This isn’t your planet. You don’t know a lot of what’s going on here. I know Sparrow from before and he’s... he's not exactly good company. He’s an Avonian rebel, not one of the Kiote. He has goals and motives completely different from yours or mine.”
“I didn't know our goals were the same?" He raised an eyebrow.
“You want to get back to Earth alive. I want the Avonians to stop killing my people. They’re both somewhat related. But Sparrow, he wants other things. Things I’m not even fully certain about. He’s a very ideologically driven person. More than a revolutionary. Or worse.”
She gave him an odd look, her blue eyes briefly locked with his, “Do you understand?”
Eli truly wasn’t certain. He felt somewhat scared. He hadn’t seen anything yet that would tip him off to the idea that Sparrow wasn’t to be trusted. He nodded anyway, “You're scaring me a bit but… yeah I do,” he said, unsure if he truly meant it. It was good enough of an answer for Otaes.
“Good. Sorry for holding you up, I just… I just wanted to warn you, was all.”
Slowly he turned his back to her, wondering what Sparrow could’ve possibly been hiding that would provoke such a desperate-sounding warning from her. Clearly, she did not trust him. And outside of Misfit, she’d been the most reliable person on Narva so far. He shouldn’t trust Sparrow either, but why? Otaes wasn’t really clear on that, and if he was being honest, it seemed like she didn’t fully know herself...
Who the hell was this man named Sparrow? He’d have to dig deeper if he wanted to know for sure. He grabbed his rifle and held it close, briefly turning back to Otaes to give her a nod of acknowledgement – but by then she had already vanished. His wandering gaze led him back to the depths of the base...
He returned inside, brushing his way past the rebels and trying his best not to ponder too hard about the refugees strewn about the place. There were still far too many questions, odd questions, about them and the rebels. Questions that Eli suspected contained answers which he didn't truly want to know. But, he should. These people were, as Dutch himself said, Phantoms. Just like he was. Phantoms protected other phantoms purely because nobody else would. What difference did it make if these refugees weren't all human? If their skin was a different color, or if their eyes glowed with magical energy, or if they had fur on their body instead of skin? No difference, none at all, Eli reasoned. If they were sentient, they deserved to have someone looking out for them. Sparrow made it seem like that's what the rebels were trying to do, but there was a voice in Eli's mind saying that Sparrow wasn't giving him the full story.
Why were they here? Right in harm's way?
On Earth, during the infinite proxy conflicts of the resource wars, both the Coalition and the POA would at least make an attempt to shuttle refugee-phantoms away from the frontlines. It wasn't even done out of genuine concern for their wellbeing, of course it wasn't. The phantoms would simply get in the way of their soldiers, and dropping bombs on a camp full of civilians - though it did certainly happen - was not necessarily a war winning tactic. As bad as Earth was, common sense tended to win out. So why then did it seem so hard for the rebels to come to that conclusion?
'Not exactly good company,' Otaes' warning echoed in his mind. He wished he could interrogate her further for more information on that, but she was surprisingly good at vanishing into thin air. Eli continued to walk, searching for any sort of familiar face. Until his eyes landed on the wolf. Sosa. He was resting, sitting atop of a crate of what looked like ammunition, with a small pen and paper in his claws to take notes, as if he were taking inventory of the equipment. His leg was still bandaged around what Eli assumed was his ankle, given that Sosa was digitigrade - walking on the tips of his bare paws like most other mammals on Earth did. Figuring that Sosa was the only somewhat recognizable person so far, Eli walked up to him, flagging the wolf's attention with a wave, "Sosa?"
Sosa's ears twitched upon hearing Eli's voice, "Oh, little human," he growled. His voice sounded calm, bored if anything. Though the deep throaty growl of his voice lent itself credibly to his canine ancestry. It was fascinating to see an intelligent, bipedal, non-human like Sosa standing before Eli. The elves were basically human, so they didn't count. Sosa was a first for him, "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to ask a few questions," Eli said, "I-if that's alright with you, of course."
Sosa's yellow eyes looked away for a brief moment, he seemed to sigh to himself as he set the comically tiny pen and clipboard aside, "I might have answers. I don't know everything, if that's what you're digging around for. You'd be better off asking Bell, or Sparrow."
"You seem to know a lot," Eli said, gesturing to the clipboard and the literal box of bullets that Sosa was using as a stool.
"Only what I'm hired to know about."
"Hired?" Eli asked the wolf, "I thought you and Sparrow were rebels?"
"He is. I'm a merc. Contracted guns. Sparrow has me on his list of contacts for when he needs a helping claw. In truth, I don't actually work for Sparrow, I work for the RDI. The Commonwealth. My main job is making sure that Sparrow isn't spending the checks we're giving him on something stupid, which he's likely to do," With a somewhat bored expression, Sosa sharpened the hard black keratin of a claw with an idle scratch from his other claws.
"You're a spy?"
"No, I'm an officer," Sosa raised his snout up with pride, even sitting down he was nearly eye-level with Eli, "I don't spy, I train and observe. And most importantly, I keep a leash on these idiots."
"But wasn't Vega shit-talking the Ostralands not too long ago? He said that the Ossies broke promises. Called them bastards, you were right there..."
Sosa shook his head, "You misunderstand. I'm not an Ostralander, or even a Commonwealth citizen. I'm from Zanica, born and raised all the way on the opposite side of the continent. I was an intelligence officer in The Wolf's Den before I joined Team Blue."
"The Wolf's Den?"
"Archlupariate Beozan's cabinet of spies and paramilitary forces, all serving the Zanican National Empire and Archlupariate Beozan himself," Sosa smiled, letting some of his fangs show from underneath his maw, "We were so brainwashed that we called ourselves 'The Avonians of the East'. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some fond memories of my time then."
"You defected?"
"I spent a lot of time outside of Zanica during my service in the Wolf's Den. Enough so that you can really start to break free of Imperial propaganda and... well, the RDI reached out to me with an offer I couldn't refuse. The rest is, as you humans say, history," Sosa turned his claw onto Eli, pointing it at him almost as a warning, "You weren't kidding when you said that you have a lot of questions."
"That kinda goes with me being an alien and all," Eli said.
"Oh, shit. I almost forgot about that... you know, you're not supposed to say that too loudly, right? That is still a secret."
"Sorry, but I should at least know who I'm working with."
"You're suspicious," Sosa glared at Eli with his yellow eyes, staring straight into his soul. It sent a shiver down Eli's spine. If Sosa wanted to, he could probably slice him into deli cuts with minimum effort. One of his ears twitched, "Lemme guess... Sparrow's rubbing you the wrong way."
"H-how did you know-"
"I can smell it on you," Sosa said, dropping the glare and again returning to idly sharpen his claws, "Humans give off a particular scent when they're nervous. Relax. If you're suspicious of Sparrow, that's good. Keep it that way."
"You don't trust him either?"
"Trust is a strong word, especially in this line of work. You can only trust Sparrow as far as you can throw him. And you'd be wise to keep an eye on him," Sosa told him with a shake of the head, "I should know that more than anyone else here..." His eyes narrowed, to Eli it seemed like the wolf was recalling a bad memory, or perhaps seeing something obvious that Eli couldn't quite grasp yet.
"Good to know," Eli whispered. There were still a billion more questions that he wanted to ask the wolf, now that he had the opportunity to. Questions about the rebels themselves, and most importantly, why they kept all of the refugees concentrated here. Something told him that he might be asking a few too many questions and that even if Sosa knew, he wouldn't say. Either way, he felt like his window for purchase was rapidly running out, and the wolf's patience running thin. As if to confirm that this was indeed the end of Eli's barrage of questions, Bell had managed to cut through the crowd of rebels and called out to the pair.
"Sorry for interrupting," she announced her presence with a professional tilt of the head, "I know you and the alien are getting acquainted..."
"The Alien?" Sosa asked, rather bemused, "I believe he has a name."
Bell rolled her eyes, "Eli, sorry," Bell gave Eli a quick - though somewhat forced - greeting before turning once more to Sosa, "Your assistance is required again. Paperwork duty."
"I hate paperwork," the wolf grumbled, "You humans and elves make all your pens too small, why do I have to write everything down?"
"If you wanted a typewriter, you should've put that in your last order request. The more you grumble the worse it gets. It should be fun. And Eli."
Sosa grumbled under his breath, just low enough for Eli to hear, "Valdacians and their paperwork..." before ultimately relenting.
Bell turned to Eli next, "Sparrow is ready to get moving. I'd come with you but someone has to keep watch of the place, especially with your people in the mix."
Eli threw his hands up, picking up on the slightly disgusted tone that Bell spoke with whenever she addressed Misfit, "You don't have to keep an eye on us. We're not gonna rob you."
"That remains to be seen, you are all still prisoners and as far as I am concerned... a liability," Bell said, "Regardless of whether you help us or not, you're a special case. I believe it's appropriate to be cautious when dealing with you and your squad."
"Great... you're doing a fantastic job making me feel warm and welcomed."
"Nothing personal, Eli. Just business," Bell nodded towards Sosa, "Come on. Let's get moving."
"Yeah, I'll be there," the wolf growled, standing to follow as Bell left the duo. Just before he left, he gave Eli a final warning, "Oh, little human. Whatever you do, don't ask Sparrow about his arm."
"His arm?" Eli asked. Up until now Eli had never seen Sparrow's arm or noticed anything odd about it. He was wearing a trench coat which covered his arms up, so Eli didn't get much of an opportunity. He did wear a glove, which Eli assumed to just be a fashion statement more than anything.
"The one he keeps wrapped up with a glove? That one. You'll see what I mean when you link up with him again..." Sparrow said, swishing his tail, before leaning in to whisper, "Oh and sorry about Bell. Valdacians hate anything they can't sort onto a fucking spreadsheet."
"I heard that!"
Sosa rolled his eyes, "Of course you did," He sighed to himself, and then he peeled off, leaving Eli alone once again.
'Don't ask Sparrow about his arm', Eli thought to himself. Interesting...
“So… Sparrow, right?” Was the first question he asked when he finally got shoulder to shoulder with him. They were back outside underneath the hazy Helen sun, making their way out of the base and towards the city's war torn streets, “What’s next on the agenda?”
“The Avonian anti-air,” Sparrow said, “You got shot down, right? Well a few of my boys found the location of the missiles that did it, they're in the Renewal District, way behind Riverlander lines. I suspect that you aren’t going to be able to call for help with that anti-air still up.”
“So, we’re going in to destroy it?”
Sparrow smiled, “Very astute of you, Mister Freeman. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“For the record, the sarcasm isn’t appreciated.”
“Just a bit of banter. Lightens the mood, you know? You’re coming with me to take down the anti-air. We would’ve gone to the emplacements right after linking up with you but as you’ve probably guessed, that scrappin’ sentry threw a wrench in our plans. But, now that we’re here and recuperated, we can strike the Imperialists and their Junta lapdogs where it hurts.” He looked up to the mid-day sky, and scowled, “We’ll have to hurry though. Every second we spend not blowing something up, that Imperial battlegroup gets closer.”
“What about our communications? Our radio is still down, I still can’t talk to Overwatch-“
“Priorities, Freeman, priorities. One thing at a time,” He said, brushing him off with a casual wave, “Come on, let's get evil..."
Eli followed Sparrow as he led them away from the base and back towards the slums of Helena. The empty streets were littered with broken glass and wind-swept dirt. Although it had only been a day since the battle first started, the city appeared trapped in the midst of a ruinous end. Garbage sat in the narrow alleyways, stinking, festering like an open wound, buzzing with flies. The midday sun tried its best to shine through the hazy skies.
The palm trees stood still like plastic models of themselves, as the breeze stopped blowing, and the air stopped flowing. Time itself had stopped for Helena, for now. Yet, there was a hidden momentum in the city that drove Eli to follow Sparrow. They were getting closer to being over and done with this mission, one step at a time, this hellishly long day drew closer to finally being in the rearview. One, cautious, step. They just had to do everything by the book.
Don’t die. Get back home. Simple. Or so Eli thought.
After a few blocks of decrepit concrete tenements had passed, Sparrow signaled for Eli to stay. He rushed into the middle of the road, towards a manhole cover that sat unassumingly on the stone surface. Sparrow checked both sides of the street for anything coming close and quickly knelt down. Unsheathing what looked like a crowbar to wedge the metal manhole up and slide it over. In the process, revealing a shadowy hole that led straight down. When the manhole was open, he gestured for Eli to get close.
“You can’t be serious,” he said to Sparrow when he finally drew near. He could peer down the now open manhole and see a dank, disgusting hole that led down into a void that reeked of something old and overrun with mildew. The type of sour smell that lingered in abandoned buildings rotting from water damage, or the type that’d stain places full of stagnant mosquito-overrun pools of god-knows-what. A horrible, disgusting, soup, “You want me to get in a sewer?”
“They're fast and safe,” Sparrow told him, though he rolled his eyes after realizing that he'd spoken the last bit erroneously, “Relatively safe, that is.”
“Dude. It stinks."
“Breathe through your mouth.”
“Ew, no! That’s like... eating it.”
“Look, it's either that, or we go over ground through Junta street patrols, and get into a fight with every single Guardsman and Militiaman in this city. As you can clearly see, I didn't bring a spare rocket launcher. You wanna fight another sentry?” Sparrow asked him. Eli shook his head “Righto. Let’s get stuck in.” Sparrow lifted himself, carefully lowering a foot down into the gaping hole and grappling onto a rusted metal ladder that took him – rung by rung – underneath the street. After a moment, Sparrow’s form had been swallowed whole by the shadowy mouth of the open sewer. Disappearing completely from Eli’s view.
“Of all the times, now would be perfect for a stuffed nose,” Eli murmured to himself, sighing when he heard Sparrow’s boots smack into a stomach-churningly damp surface at the bottom of the pit.
Eli was just about to follow, sinking a foot onto the top rung of a terrifyingly shaky and rusted ladder, but was forced to stop. His eyes locked onto a figure, watching him, staring from the street. His heart froze in his chest. It wasn’t a soldier, nor a sentry, nor… anything. Not anything he believed real at least.
He saw a dove fly from a nearby alleyway. As if he was lost in a trance, his eyes locked onto her form as she darted from one crumbling tenement to the next. Following her white feathers and graceful form amidst the decay of the city around her. The dove was completely out of place in Helena. She wasn't supposed to be here. And he knew for a fact that wherever there were doves, it lurked.
And sure enough, he saw it.
Glassface.
Eli froze staring at it, while it remained on the far end of the street. His heart thudded against his chest. Eyes locked, finding himself unable to pull them away. He had become lost. Losing track of his surroundings. Where was he? Was he still halfway inside of a sewer? Was he cast back into the ethereal grassy plain of his dreams where he thought that the Glassface had been chained?
How could it possibly be that this creature from his dreams… was real? It must’ve been a hallucination from the stress of the past few days. He focused his eyes. Narrowing them, hoping that the lines of the creature would blur into some other form or shape.
But it did not.
Glassface simply stood there in its dark robes. Completely out of place in this world. A sojourner in this very reality. It was unreal. Although it lacked a face, smooth glass reflecting somewhat in the luminosity of the afternoon sun, Eli knew it was staring right back at him.
Eli couldn’t believe it. He had seen it back in Raritan, walking amongst the real world as if it were an actual physical entity and not some figure conjured up from the ethereal parts of his dreaming consciousness. He’d only seen it then for a fleeting moment, just a blink. He could’ve sworn he was just seeing things then. The fight with the sentry stressed both his mind and body out to the point that figures from his dreams had jumped the barrier from his mind to the real world. When he laid eyes on the creature, he had tripped – a fall which saved his life. When his eyes looked for it, it had vanished.
Had Glassface not just been a mirage after all?
Was it… real?
“Eli!” A voice broke through the icy prison Eli had been ensnared in, from down below. His eyes pulled away to see that Sparrow, quite angrily, was looking up at him from the foul smelling sewer below, “Are you waiting for a scrappin’ invitation? Huh?”
Eli turned back to get one final look at the creature, but predictably, it was gone without a trace…
“Uh, sorry. It's Just uhh…” His mind flashed with the idea of asking Sparrow directly if he'd noticed the ominous mechanical creature with glass for a face standing in the alleyways of Helena's piss covered housing blocks, but he knew that he'd sound insane. It was bad enough that he kept having recurring visions of the creature whenever he closed his eyes, now he wasn't mistaken as he'd believed he was during that brief split second in Raritan. There was no doubt at all that Glassface was a real, physical, entity...
“What? You see soldiers?”
"No!" Eli quickly corrected him, "Sorry, I uh... I just saw something that caught my eye."
"Well, I ain't waiting around to give you a scenic tour of the city, clock's ticking!"
When he touched the surface of the sewer with the heel of his boot, the smell hit him like a punch to the jaw. It was rank. The pungent odor of stagnant dirty water overwhelmed his senses at first. Burning holes through his sinus, threatening to suffocate him. That, mixed with the stillness of the air, and the relative darkness of the underground, Eli swore he was drowning above water.
His boots squished on what was supposed to be concrete or stone. Shining his flashlight down at his feet, he saw a mixture of moss growing in the cracks of the brick and stone as well as whatever else was left behind when the water was at a higher level. It was almost a disgusting enough sight to make Eli forget completely about his interaction with Glassface.
Almost. It remained lodged within a far-fetched part of his brain, all the way at the back of his skull. A constant reminder that he was being watched by someone. A snaking feeling of being under constant surveillance. Even down here in the sewers underneath Helena’s streets. Glassface was watching.
“Let’s get moving!” Sparrow chirped when Eli regrouped with the man, “I hope you’re wearing boots.”
“Yeah, boots won’t be enough. I need a hazard suit for this shit,” Eli growled, “Hazard suit and at least five showers.”
“It’s mostly rainwater.” Sparrow informed, “You’ll be fine."
"Mostly?"
"Mixed in with some other things. Toxic chemical runoff, hazardous garbage flushed into gutters and alleyways, toxic raw sewage because some of the shit-carrying pipes leak into here..."
"Oh, come the fuck on."
"What? It's good stuff, builds up your immune system, you know?" Sparrow flashed him a smile, "I'm messing with you anyways. These tunnels are for rainwater, because as you might've guessed - it rains quite a lot in Kiote land. The worst thing that can happen here is if there's a sudden storm surge, and then we all drown in the muck."
"You say that like drowning in literal shitwater in a cramped tunnel is not the most horrific way to die."
"Well...it's not the most. There are worse fates I'm sure. Come on, live a little. A bit of contaminated rain runoff never hurt anyone," Sparrow shrugged. Eli sighed, figuring he was never going to be able to convince Sparrow that this was a terrible idea. Hell, the man probably took some sort of pleasure in watching him struggle to keep himself from throwing up. Eli wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If he puked, Sparrow's leather jacket would be the main target, "Besides, tunnels like these are the lifeblood of any good revolutionary. You should see Sosa trying to make his way through here, he fucking hates this place."
"Yeah, unlike you, Sosa's got a brain."
"First of all, you're starting to sound like Bell. Second, next time you see Sosa, give 'im a little scratch between the ears," Sparrow told him, "He says he hates it, but he won't stop you. He absolutely loves it, every single time. Big guy like him, it's hilarious."
"I'm good, I'd rather not have my arm get ripped off by a seven foot tall werewolf."
"Werewolf? You mean beastkin? He's a wolfkin."
"If that's what you call them here, on Earth furry wolf people don't exist."
Sosa seemed to frown, "Okay, just for the record... calling them 'furry' is kind of a slur. So don't do that, or at least, don't say it to his face."
"Oh, shit. Sorry... wait a minute, that's a slur, but beastkin isn't?"
"It's weird, I don't get it either, some people are saying we shouldn't say beastkin because... well, look the point is just don't say furry. That'd be like calling a human a chimp, or an elf a sharpear. That's just how it is on Narva."
"Alright... I get it."
"Anyways, the local cell uses these tunnels to send messengers and supplies across Helena without the Junta’s Military Police knowing.”
“Local cell?” Eli asked but he genuinely didn’t really care. He just wanted anything to throw his mind off of the fact that he was inside of a sewer.
“You thought we worked alone? Nah, The ULA operates across Farewind. The revolutionaries here in Helena, just one in a part of anti-imperialists fighting to be free.”
“You make it seem grand.”
“It is, Freeman,” Sparrow said his last name with a tone of semi-aware irony, a type that made Eli confused as to what Sparrow was insinuating. Was that an… offer?
Before Eli could follow with more questions, Sparrow pointed back to the sewers, "The tunnels make us practically immune to whatever the Imperialists and their Riverlander puppets might throw at us, outside of flooding the tunnels with gas.”
“Overwatch gave us masks,” Eli said, tapping his pack, glad that he decided to keep it packed in there rather than hanging loose on the strap before arriving in Helena.
“Then you’ll be set,” Sparrow told him, “Come on. No time like the present.”
Sparrow shone a light down the stone tunnel. The disgustingly soiled ceiling was just high enough for Eli to walk under provided he kept his head low. He was still wearing his helmet, and briefly debated if taking it off would make the trek any more comfortable. He decided against it when the image of raw sewage getting into his hair appeared in his mind. He’d take being mildly uncomfortable over being infected with whatever disease from hell lurked down here.
They walked on a narrow stone path, with turbid grey water stagnant in a channel to their left. Stone brick lined the walls, oozing with brown slime and who-knows-what that often leaked onto the stone passageway. It made a slip – and subsequent swim in the cloudy water a real danger. Eli kept himself alert for it. He wouldn’t have a repeat of Raritan and have a swim, that’s for sure.
As they walked, Eli kept an eye on Sparrow's arm, noting indeed that he only wore one leather glove, and it looked like it was bandaged underneath that. He opted to not bring it up for now, but Sosa's warning about Sparrow's arm stuck with him...
Their flashlights combined and illuminated the completely dark tunnels ahead, revealing the twists and turns ahead. Yet when Eli turned back, as he was the last in the group, he saw nothing but empty darkness. A void, only illuminated by the faint glistening coming from waves within the water’s surface. An eerie sight, especially since it was just himself and Sparrow. He had the sneaking suspicion that something would jump out of the water and grab him…
“Are there alligators down here?” Eli asked Sparrow, hoping a little bit of humor would shake that dark and heavy feeling that sat on his shoulders.
Sparrow seemed to think for a moment, “Alligators? Probably. Snakes? Definitely. Watch out for those because they do bite, and you will die.”
“Wonderful! Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse!”
“Trust me Eli, it always gets worse. You should know that by now,” Sparrow told him with a more serious tone peppering his voice.
As the flashlights scanned the walls, Eli noticed that there was graffiti painted on the stone. All of it either black or red, and usually it took the form of a star or a broken arrow, “Say. What are these symbols for anyway?”
“Markings by my men, ULA symbols. Lets us know we’re in friendly territory,” Sparrow said, “The red and black star is our symbol.” He pointed to the red band wrapped around his shoulder, and indeed, it had a star on it. Black, with the white letters “ULA” written across from it.
“What exactly does the ULA believe in? You didn’t really make it clear what you are all fighting for.”
“Our beliefs?” Sparrow asked, turning back to him and smiling, “I believe in dismantling oppressive systems through organized, violent, revolutionary action on behalf of the people. The largest of those oppressive systems, at least right now, being the Greater Avonian Empire. The largest and most powerful bastion of absolutism, neo-orderite elven supremacy, and mass industrialized slavery, on this continent and planet.”
“Oh… yeah I think your translation spell might be off, I didn’t pick up a single word of what you just said,” Sparrow gave him a sour look when he said that, “I only went to the crappy trailer schools they had for orphaned phantom kids, so I’m a little illiterate if you don’t mind.”
Sparrow looked down to the floor, like the filthy ground would’ve given him an answer. Lost in thought, when his eyes jerked up to reach Eli’s, it was as if the floor really had given it to him.
“I fight against the same evil that has you locked as a prisoner. The same regime that blocks the light of hope and crushes it underneath the weight of its own gluttony. Every single waking moment of my life is spent fighting the Empire, both in practice and in mind. And I’m cursed for it, sentenced to spend my life using the same tactics to liberate the people, that my greatest enemy uses to bring harm – that is what I do. Every. Single. Day,” Sparrow said, taking a step towards Eli, “It’s a nightmare that I cannot wake up from. And I know that I won’t. Because in the end, it’s not about me. Or either of us for that matter. Everything that I do, I do with the hopes that it will accelerate the downfall of the imperialists. My soul will not rest until I’m either dead, or until Avonia has collapsed. I know that the former is guaranteed, but the latter I might never see. I chase a dream I will never live in.”
Sparrow’s voice had risen to a peak, like he was about to start yelling to Eli in the middle of the tunnel. But when he rounded off the last line, it was like he could hear what he was saying for the first time. And he corrected by again looking down at the floor and speaking one final time in a quiet whisper, “That is what I believe,” he finished.
Sparrow spoke bitterly to him, his face twisted, scowling. The words painful for him to speak, but he did so anyway. Eli knew that he was not lying.
“Everyone has an idea of what it’s like to be a revolutionary. They have a black and white picture in their minds, a clear distinction between good and evil. But it’s never that clear. I believe in the ends justifying the means, and I know that my goals are pure. I’ll do anything to achieve them. What’s to be decided is your allegiance. I can lead you to a path of freedom, if you choose. If you want to walk in the shoes of someone who’s spent his entire life fighting enslavers and absolutism. You may dream that you can also find liberation. Either in this life, or perhaps in the next. So, you won’t have to be a prisoner. But that’s a fight you’ll have to decide on your own.”
With that, Sparrow turned on his heels and continued down the tunnel, leaving Eli behind trying to find answers. The only option…
Follow Sparrow.
>>>[Verifying...]
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==The Revolutionary Department Of Intelligence==
==[THE RED HAND]==
Flag of The United Liberation Army
GENERAL INFORMATION:
Full Name: The United Liberation Army
Type: Militant Revolutionary Organization (Freedom Fighters for RDI purposes)
Ideology: Anti-Imperialism, Urban Guerilla Warfare, Vanguard-Communard Revolution
Leader: N/A (Devolved Cellular Leadership, No Central Executive)
Estimated Numbers: 30-80 Thousand Active Members Across Farewind
Area(s) of Operation: Primarily in Continental-Pact aligned nations, notably, The River Republic, North Oran, Valdacian Magedom, and The Avonian Empire itself. A few operational cells have been noted working within The Ostralands and Oceania, though they are relatively weak and are of a minor concern.
Known allies; ROTER MORGEN (Valdacia), Movement for a United North Oran [MURO] (North Oran), Front for the Total Liberation of Azure [FTLA] (Azure), The Underground (Oceania/Ostralands).
Faction: Non-Aligned (NOTE: This can change!)
The United Liberation Army (ULA), is an underground urban revolutionary communard militant group operating across the Farewind continent - with a particular focus on combating Avonian Imperialism, the complete destruction of the Avonian Empire proper, and establishing a vanguardist state to usurp the absolutist Parliamentary-Monarchy of Avonia. The ULA has come under international scrutiny, with their most recent controversy revolving around the hijacking of Valdacian Airlines Flight 2000 - a hijacking conducted by another revolutionary faction closely aligned with the ULA, ROTER MORGEN (Red Dawn). Perhaps most notoriously is the ULA's orchestration of numerous car-bomb attacks against Avonian and Riverland-based targets. These attacks are mostly aimed at government institutions, politicians, and military outposts. The ULA is ruthless in targeting several high profile individuals in assassination attempts, fire-bombings, and even a attempted hostile-takeover of an Imperial Army garrison! The ULA operates off of an ideology known only as "People's War", rendering all perceived opponents as fair game...
These controversies... and many others... have soured opinions of the ULA as nothing more than a rabid terrorist group operating in the shadowy depths of the Imperial core. And this may be true... to an extent.
The RDI has noted time and time again that the ULA may just represent our best chance of significantly weakening the integrity of The Greater Avonian Empire. Several ULA operations have been funded by under-the-table deals between RDI operatives and the ULA, and their leadership has grown close to our lists of useful contacts as our forward officers move to observe their ranks. Through carefully planned, and swiftly executed operational greenlights, we can utilize the ULA and their allies to cause significant domestic turmoil across The Continental-Unity Pact. A successful operation of this type would grant the Commonwealth a powerful advantage in not just the ongoing Kiote Crisis, but a significant victory in The Cold War.
Let me be perfectly clear, as agency director I can say this: THE ULA IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED. However, should we keep a good leash on the more undesireable elements of the ULA, they can be far more than a useful tool in our fight against Imperialism. If we can successfully manipulate their ideological stances to something more palatable to the global fight for freedom and for our own radical-democracy, aligning Vanguard-Communard with Radicalists and Pro-Democracy forces might prove to be one of the most important maneuvers to date in this Cold War.
Operation FIRESALE is currently being revived in the 'planning' phase. FIRESALE would approve the sale of acquired weapons manufactured by warlords across the Bizonian Anarchy to ULA leadership. Though the quantity is small, we hope this can be enough payola to convince ULA leadership to approach the RDI. Several suppliers from Bizonia are willing to sell their weapons to us, namely the Novokudrov Bandit Fiefdom and the Bizonian Revolutionary Front. These foreign manufacturers are necessary to provide the ULA with weapons that cannot be traced back to Commonwealth origin, however dealing with Bizonian warlords by using funds appropriated to us by The People's Congress may not necessarily prove to be the most... "PR friendly" operation. Fear not, for the [HOMELAND SECURITY ACT OF 1226] allows the RDI access to the Commonwealth People's Treasury for all confidential and clandestine operations without being forced to disclose our budgetary details to The People's Congress. Still, it is recommended to keep spending limited to the 15-30 Million Credit area, in order to dissuade unwanted attention and prevent an audit.
Phase two of Operation FOREIGN FRIEND and the primary goal of Operation RED HAND, will be to align our newfound allies in the Global Strategic Coalition with our ULA contacts. This is the crucial part of the entire operation, and as such, requires delicate diplomatic maneuvering in order to successfully pull off. The ongoing battle in Helena will hopefully allow us to extract ULA leadership to The Coalition's base in Canau, allowing the two an open forum to meet and establish terms with each other. If this proves successful, a united front of this sort will be able to destroy Imperial forces without the Commonwealth needing to intervene - sparing us a Second Kiote War scenario - while weakening our enemy in the process...
All contacts must be covert, if word of this ever breaks out... I'm sure you know what the potential consequences may be. If The People's Congress gains wind of this, it might be enough to have us hung for treason. Word of the Commonwealth and greater Belford Alliance supporting ULA forces can never be allowed to get out. But this opportunity is too big to ignore. Should this succeed, we will have achieved one of the greatest victories thus far in the Cold War: Making The Empire's boogeyman obedient to our commands.
[MAY OUR REVOLUTION ALWAYS BE IN SAFE HANDS]
==[END TRANSMISSION]==