The Eight Pointed Star, Part I


eve_icon.gif kaylee3_icon.gif kimberly_icon.gif luther_icon.gif ff_silas_icon.gif siobhan_icon.gif

Scene Title The Eight Pointed Star, Part I
Synopsis You were warned.
Date February 27, 2020

Alarm klaxons blare down whitewashed halls, security lights flash orange in the dark.

Distant gunfire and the bone-deep vibrations of less distant explosions shake the entire facility. Dirt and detritus falls from the ceiling, steam blasts forth from ruptured pipes. Struggling down the hallway, a lone figure in black tactical gear sweeps from door to door with a pistol and a knife, his hands locked at the wrist with the knife blade-out below the pistol. There’s a trail of bodies here, US military, most of them battered and broken in a variety of ways. They were left with their guns where they fell. The soldier in black recognizes the efforts of an Evolved assailant and follows the trail of the dead.

It takes two more flights of stairs up before the soldier reaches the source of the gunfire. The ground is shaking from nearby explosions, concrete floor bucking underfoot like a riding bull goaded into action. As he pushes through a partly closed door, the soldier emerges out onto the floor of a factory. Massive steel canisters connected via metal tubing spill with a noxious yellow fog that clings to the floor, heavy and languid.

Negation gas.

Reaching to his side, the soldier carefully connects a filtration mask over his mouth and continues on through the fog. Pops of gunfire echo through the facility and up on a high catwalk he can see four soldiers in mis-matched tactical gear and civilian clothes firing down at a single figure surrounded by a hemisphere forcefield keeping the negation gas out. The forcefield is like an umbrella, providing protection from only one direction. The soldier in black grips his pistol tightly, weaving in between pipes as he closes in on the Evolved fighter’s back.


Jolene Chevalier exhales a breathy scream as she pulls one soldier off of the catwalk with a telekinetic snare, slinging him around like a ragdoll to knock two others down. They strike pipes on the way down, ringing with hollow clunks and snaps before dropping in unmoving heaps in the billowing clouds of negation gas. The soldier in black, having lined up his shot


A soldier in an adjacent catwalk with a clear bead on Lene’s back gurgles as a bullet punches through his neck and sends him toppling over the railing to strike the ground with a hard smack. Lene spins around at the gunshot, turning face-to-face with the masked soldier in head-to-toe body armor sealed with gaskets around the wrists and ankles, clearly prepared to face biological warfare.

It isn’t safe here!” Lene shouts, sweeping the gas away with her forcefield. “We have to clear out, air support will be hitting this place any minute!” The soldier in black lowers his gun, stepping out from between the pipes where he’d been carefully positioned.

«There’s a biological weapon on site, I need access.» The soldier, British from the sound of it but not flying the Union Jack on his armor, looks around the warehouse floor. «Gorgon. I have to confirm eradication.» It isn’t true, but it feels true.

“You’re standing in it!” Lene shouts. The sudden realization that the negation gas may not be what he thought it was, simply because of the dye used in the gas, causes the soldier to balk and step back sharply. He looks around at the mustard-colored gas pooling at his ankles, then looks up sharply to Lene.

«Go, I have my own way out.» He says confidently, but Lene steps forward to make him move. But before she can make contact to teleport the two out, there is an ear-splitting explosion that rocks the facility. A blinding flash of light floods the warehouse followed by the groaning cry of protesting metal and splitting concrete. The ceiling comes crashing down on the pair, pinning them both beneath a pile of concrete rubble.

One black-clad hand reaches out from the heap, twisting, grasping. The soldier’s respirator is shattered, his body laying in the yellow gas. He gasps, chokes, and gags as he realizes his predicament. Three pieces of metal puncture his midsection, blood pooling out through his body armor. There is no sign of the young woman that was there a moment ago. But the mound of concrete and steel pinning the soldier’s legs to the ground give him reason to believe she was in there, somewhere.

Visor cracked, the soldier pulls off his helmet and throws it aside. Coughing into his fist as he struggles to pull himself free. But a needling, aching pain slowly creeps up his extremities and burns at the back of his eyes. He reaches up to his shoulder, to his radio. “Extraction,” he gasps.


For the first time in centuries, Adam Monroe knows true fear.

But his help comes near instantaneously. A swirling distortion of heat-mirage ripple blossoms into view, followed by the silhouette of a man forming in the blur of space his teleportation creates. “Sir,” she says urgently, taking a knee at his side.


Lieutenant Rachel Mills had seen a great deal in her time. The atrocity of the American Military Apparatus, the abuse of FRONTLINE, the horrors of the civil war. She had joined Adam out of an ideological common-ground, that their kind should be united. Seeing him here, now, helpless she is nearly stricken with shock.

Gas,” Adam croaks out, reaching up to take Rachel’s hand. “Hurry.” Rachel grips Adam’s hand firmly and nods. She doesn’t need to remove him from the rubble to save his life. She shuts her eyes, breathes in deeply, and the world blurs in a sphere around them.

Then, once her ability has wound up, they are gone.

Seven Years Later

Somewhere in the Atlantic

February 27th
8:17 am

The noise of a boat engine has become nearly undetectable after several hours of exposure. The journey from the coast of the NYC Safe Zone to the coast of Virginia took two solid days. Silas Mackenzie was one of the few people willing to follow Mad Eve out onto the open water in his own universe, and here he finds her clarion call to action no less alarming. Yet, it’s his boat.

And there’s Eve.

It’s like that scene out of Titanic, except she’s by herself at the front of the ship, arms out and the wind whipping through her hair. For Luther and Kaylee, the last 48 hours have been anxiety-inducing. They are headed as squarely into danger as they can, forging a direct path to the last known coordinates of Adam Monroe himself. No invitations, no meetings on ancient mountaintops. They’re making a direct line to his front door and doing so without the courtesy of even calling ahead, let alone knocking. Judging from their travel plan, they’re just minutes away now.

“Last two,” comes from Kimberly as she makes her way back up onto the deck, an uncapped beer in each hand. “Who wants dibs?” To take the edge off.

Worn jacket tugged closed around herself, Kaylee Thatcher watches Eve with mild jealousy. Be nice if she could be so carefree, even faced with what they were about to do. The telepath was far from it. Of course, that could be the drugs, which Kaylee couldn’t partake in. She kinda wish she could…

Kaylee was still fuming over an argument with Luther. He didn't want to wear the armor Raytech was providing and she had a very big problem with that opinion. In fact, part of her own armor still lay where she threw it at his feet, when heels were dug in.

”F I N E!” Kaylee doesn't look away from the stubborn man and simply lets go of her helmet, letting it drop at his feet. <clang> “Let's see how long we both can last, cause it sure worked for you last time.” Throwing the last time he got shot, in his face. Luther gets a hard stare before the telepath turns and stalks off.

There would be some guilt over the scene - it was a small boat after all - but he just… made her so damn mad. Now she sat away from him on a stack of boxes, simply watching the Seer, ignoring all the anxiety filled hums around her… Then there was Kimberly….

Kimberly’s arrival is mostly ignored, except for a brief side-eyed glance. Like with drugs, the telepath couldn’t drink… was probably the only one not, which was frustrating in other ways.

"Give it here," answers Luther to Kimberly's enticing offer of a drink, waving his fingers at the sister-clone of Chess. He's been aching for one since their departure from the dock. Since he's managed to stuff himself into an AEGIS armor suit - he really was getting out of shape - and decided better to lead by example in spite of soured feelings between him and Kaylee. Plus, he was still on the mend from that whole getting shot thing. It was just a graze… so he claims.

He's elected to leave the helmet portion off for now, but it's secured by the nature of his boot tamping it down under heel. "How much longer?" he calls over to their captain. As much as Luther wants to appear at least somewhat confident, however, it doesn't mask a furtive glance in the telepath's direction where she's sitting. Guilt tugs at him. Pride hammers him to his seat.

It'll all be smoothed over, shortly. Surely.

Well, hell, Silas thinks dejectedly as the last beer is scooped out from under him.

Not that it's the last alcohol on the boat. Ha ha ha, oh no. Silas has a flask, of course, and, Silas being the captain — and the one in charge of making sure their ride is officially seaworthy — there are now a number of carefully concealed bourbon nooks aboard. Tradition is tradition, after all.

And not that he's drinking now, anyway. Much as he might want to, he needs to be on his toes for this; after two days of quite possibly the single most uncomfortable boat ride he's ever been on, it's almost time for the show to start.

It's just that being dejected about getting scooped on the last beer is a lot easier to deal with than being anxious about what's to come.

Luther's question draws his attention back to what's to come, though; just as well, really. Not a lot of time for lollygagging now. Silas nods to the beer in Kimberly's hand. "Long enough for you two to finish your drinks. Not much more than that," he says, before turning his gaze back to the sea.

He hopes, more than almost anything else in the world right now, that he's able to share his bourbon stash with all of them on the way home.


Eve sings softly, swallowed by the noise around them. With her head tipped back she slowly opens her eyes, crimson irises stare contemplatively. Was this the right choice?

It seemed like their only choice.

She wore no armor, she didn't feel she was going to stay in this form too much and she didn't want to damage the precious tech with her… volatile nature. Instead a simple black dress adorns here body though it has many a hole from the occasion lighting sparking on her person. Feet bare, the moisture clings between her toes and she wiggles them with a soft smile as she looks from the sky to her little piggies. Before the former seer can get carried away with counting each one aloud in song, Kimberly brings beer that Hot Hands most desperately needs. "Feeling stuffy in there?" A quip aimed at Luther with a grin, she had heard there were some… disagreements on him wearing armor.

The pale woman spins around and looks at her friends, "As we get closer, Siguy our Old Friend here will cloak us. So shadow, so hidden." Winkwink at Silas from afar. "Miss Mind? Do you think you can cast your mind net outwards? Maybe you can catch a thought as we get closer. Maybe even you and Siguy, can combine gifts. Unite." Her eyes gleam with anticipation as a lone bolt of red light jolts out from her shoulder blades up towards the sky.

Use it against Adam, against the Dragon. Eve was nervous underneath her easy breezy grins and joked but she knew that Adam had never dealt with Eve while she was like this. Not with her new gift, she felt she had an advantage.

For how long who was to say.

"Full speed ahead Old Guy!" Eve cackles and turns her back to the others, a frown crossing over her face.

Kimberly hands that beer over to Luther without looking at him, because her attention is angled over at Eve instead. “Does she realize we’re probably all going to die?” Kimberly asks flatly to Luther, only looking down at him after he’s taken the beer and she’s finished gawking at Eve. “Because that’s a distinct possibility, it feels like.”

Up ahead, Silas can see a dark spot on the horizon. As seasoned a sailor as he is, he knows the sight of a distant ship when he spots one. It was a perceptive skill honed in the interests of survival in his world, where any ship on the horizon could belong to the dread pirate Sawyer’s fleet. In those days, he’d steer clear of them long before now. Today, his goal is to go straight at it.

Judging from the shape of the silhouette, Silas estimates it’s a mid-sized yacht with probably two or three below decks. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to eyeball at this distance. To Luther and the others, it’s barely indistinguishable from the horizon itself.

“Of course, she knows,” Kaylee comments, answering Kimberly’s question with a rather bland tone. “We don’t spend this long - deep in the shit - without knowing it's a possibility.” Kaylee looks at Luther and arches brow at him, daring him to say she’s wrong. The former-seer isn’t the only one aware. The telepath is very aware, since she had a son waiting for her with no idea what his mother was into.

Called upon, Kaylee slides off the boxes, offering Eve a mild smile. “Sure thing,” she quips, trying to sound reassuring. Yeah, she noticed the other woman’s underlying mood, but Eve’s nerves are Kaylee’s little secret. Moving towards the front of the boat, Kaylee’s eyes unfocus as she turns her attention outward, letting the sound of the motor focus her and help her ignore the others on the boat.

"We all die some time," returns Luther deadpan to Kimberly as he angles a glance up to Eve, although his flat timbre hides his shreds of hope. The familiarity in the former seer's mannerism comes strangely as a comfort. They've been doing this a while, running into the fight. He's trusted her. "I'm fine. Just missin' your rubber ducks a little, Ducky," says the man as he reaches over to clink his bottle against Kimberly's and pulls a large swig off the bottle. He aims to finish it in time.

From his position he acts as overwatch, mainly keeping track of those on the boat for now as their navigator sends their ship on the approach. While Kaylee focuses outward, he observes the telepath carefully from afar. The bottle lifts again making it easier to drown his doubt and bolster courage.

"I'm not that old," Silas grumbles, rolling his eyes. He'll give Eve credit — being annoyed with her is also easier than dwelling listlessly on what's to come. He's not entirely sure about the 'sharing gifts' bit, but if it gives them an edge he's willing to give it a shot.

Kaylee and Luther's answers to Kimberly draw a grin, though. "Just so!" he says, abruptly cheerful as he glances to Kimberly, flashing his best roguish grin. "We all die sometime… all we can do is do our level best to make sure none of our crewmates buy it today."

Hm. Maybe I'm channeling Long John Dantes a bit too much? he wonders. For all of a second. Arr, belay that line of thinking, ye scrub! he thinks to himself, reveling in the piratical just a bit more… before he remembers that they have a telepath onboard. Whoops. He gives the mental equivalent of a sheepish shrug…

… and it's then that he spots the vessel on the horizon. Their target.

"Ship ho," he calls, pitching his voice to carry; all levity is gone from him in an instant. He squints a bit, hands subtly guiding the wheel to keep their approach true. "Looks like a yacht. Mid-sized."

Eve claps her hands together at the sound of SHIP HO and she leans over the railing as if that will help her see any clearer. They had been running into fights for years now and though Eve has died now a few times during these adventures her goal is to keep her friends alive. "Death is not for sale today, not for us."

Though the closer they got to their destination the more it was becoming real, they had hoped to stop Adam tonight. One Adam, of an untold number. Connected through space, Project Hydra fully realized.

"I do not know how linked the many copies of Adam are but we can assume as soon as this starts, they will all, know of our treachery." The former seer rubs the inside of her arm and looks over to where Silas said a yacht sits, "There will be hell to pay." Gripping the metal railing tight and crouching while she squints.

"We try one last time, to get him to cooperate with the masses. To help us, save ourselves without his own doomed plans. If he doesn't take it," She pauses and Eve's frown deepens, "We do what we must. One Adam down is a good thing," No matter her complicated feelings about the man, no matter the things she's learned. Choices had been made, on both sides.

“Is it treachery if we were never on his side?” Kimberly asks Luther in a hushed tone of voice, side-eyeing him as she tips back her drink.

“You know what,” she adds with a shake of her head, “I don’t wanna know.”


«Donnez-moi une suite au Ritz, je n'en veux pas!»

The rhythm of an acoustic guitar and a lilting woman's voice echo over the deck of a yacht anchored off the coast of Virginia.

«Des bijoux de chez Chanel, je n'en veux pas!»

A small radio set up between a pair of lawn chairs on the deck pumps out the music, a pop song from over a decade ago, spinning from an old CD. Striding across the deck of the ship, barefoot in a sundress with a cocktail in one hand, Siobhan Delaflote hums along with the upbeat and energetic tune.

«Donnez-moi une limousine, j'en ferais quoi»

She twirls, the lower hem of her dress flaring out before she tips back her fruity drink and takes a sip with eyes shut. Her free hand waves and shifts in the air, tracing patterns with her fingertips that only she can see in her imagination. The motion moves to her wrist, then a crook of her elbow, then a rise of one shoulder and she’s pirouetting again away from the chairs.

«Offrez-moi du personnel, j'en ferais quoi?»

Siobhan’s head bobs up and down with the music, but her rhythm slowly breaks when her cell phone buzzes noisily across the lawn chair. She takes one more sip of her drink and smiles to herself, before padding on toe-tips over to the chair, bending down to pick up her phone and turn off the alarm. “Il est temps pour votre médicament,” she mumbles to herself, tossing the phone back down.

«Un manoir à Neufchâtel, ce n'est pas pour m— »

And with a tap of two fingers turns off the music. “Bébé! Petit bébé!” Siobhan calls, followed by a sharp whistle as she makes her way toward the spacious cabin. There’s a clattering sound of nails on deck, a jingle of a bell and a riotous explosion of bork bork bork bork! Followed by the bouncing silhouette of a dog coming scrambling out of nowhere to Siobhan’s heels.

Voilà mon petit bébé!” She chirps, crouching down to get eye level with the light brown dog, pressing a kiss to its cold black nose and receiving a prodigious amount of licks across her face in the process. “Où étais-tu mon petit Von?


Von, cheerfully, exhales another loud series of bork bork bork bork followed by pushing out of Siobhan’s arms and bounding out of the cabin toward the port side of the yacht. Siobhan wrinkles her nose, hands on her knees, and rises up to stand slowly. “Silly boy,” she says with a shake of her head, not bothering to investigate what has Von up in arms, but instead crossing the cabin to the refrigerator in the small kitchen, retrieving a dull yellow syringe from a rack on the door.

Von is still barking.


The ringing is Silas’ ears started not long ago. Blotches in his vision are more recent. The dull ache in the back of his head and behind his eyes was expected, predicted, even. When he cuts the engine and the boat begins moving off of its own inertia and the current toward the nearing yacht, Silas recognizes his strain isn’t so much from the number of people he’s trying to hide from, but the sheer volume of what it is he’s trying to hide.

Hiding a boat, even a small one like this is no simple task. It isn’t his first time, but he’d forgotten how much it hurts. A wave of nausea has set in as the ship drifts closer to the yacht, right around the same time the distant bark of a dog cuts through the air. His range is limited to merely sixty feet, and out on the open water sight-lines are so much less restricted. But there’d been no alarm sounded, no warning call. Maybe he’d been lucky? Maybe he’d pushed hard enough?

As the boat drifts in under twenty feet from the yacht, Kimberly finishes her beer and throws the bottle in the ocean, then moves to the back of the boat to pull on a lever deploying the anchor. “Luther, you got the ropes?”

“Eve?” Kaylee calls for the woman softly, trying to keep her voice down, eyes opening to the sight of the hull alongside their boat. Finding the mad woman not far from her, she breathes out a quiet, “I don’t like this.” The telepath can’t shake the chill that was dancing through her and despite the coat, she rubs her arm.

Head tipping back, Kaylee’s eyes close again as she takes another peek. Nothing changes and she shakes her head and brushes stray strands of blonde from her face. “There are only two minds on this boat.” Lifting a hand, she motions where the humming minds are. “One is sleeping.” She doesn’t hide the concern from the former-SEER. “I mean… I know he can be kinda….” The telepath waves a hand at the boat looking for the right word, but settles on… “Extra… but I dunno.

Kaylee’s head wobbles back and forth on her neck, before she shrugs, “I could be wrong and he’s being that stupid or overconfident.” She is really hoping she’s wrong. “I think we should really err on the side of over caution on this one.”

"One too many," Luther answers about the number of copies of Adam there may be. He may even be counting the ones cross-dimensional. Tipping back the rest of the beer in one long chug, he pulls it away upon finishing and briefly looks overboard as if meaning to toss the empty bottle into the high seas. He reconsiders. And upon second thought and a concerned glance towards Silas at the helm, turns to dispose his trash in a proper receptacle. The man's only answer to Kimberly's question is a short shake of his head back, mirroring her expression. She really doesn't want to know.

The approach finds Luther sliding the AEGIS armor helmet on to his head, despite all his prior protests with Kaylee. He indicates with a short thumbs-up gesture he's got the ropes handled, readying to toss their climbing ropes. The sound of the dog's bark briefly turns Luther's attention to the deck and exhaling an annoyed snort. Standing near the telepath, he tooks to her. "Only two?" he echoes skeptically. "Or, he's not even on the damn boat." While he does glance in Eve's direction, it's not to accuse but to look to the former seer in askance of guidance.

Silas isn't quite slumped against the helm, but he's definitely bracing himself against it; he's staring in the general direction of the other boat as jagged splotches of prismatic color sizzle across his field of vision. He can still make out what's going on without having to think too hard, at least; he nods to Luther for pitching the bottle into the trash and not the ocean.

"Caution's great, but you're kinda on a timer now," he calls, sounding a bit ragged already. "I'm redlinin', and if you wait much longer I'm gonna be useless for anything. Maybe worse than useless."

He closes his eyes and sways a bit, holding onto the console a bit more tightly; the splotches of color are still there, impossibly vibrant against the darkness behind his eyelids. They'd be pretty, if they weren't slowly eating his ability to see. "I ain't gonna be able to hold this much longer. Sorry," he adds, and he means it.

"No sorries Siguy, you're doing amazing!" Eve does frown at the news that there are only two minds on the yacht. Instead of swearing aloud she makes a commitment and Kaylee solidifies it with her note of caution, they have to see it through. She wasn't just directed here for nothing. Was she? The pale woman holds tightly onto the rails and looks over at the others, "We move as Miss Mind says, cautious. Take the waking mind first, we get to the sleeping one after. Mm?"

There's a pit of nerves bubbling up in her belly but she feels that resolve she must have gotten from her mother. "Hot Hands, you take the most care." She couldn't have him up and dying on them here.

Flexing her hands the dark haired woman waits for the ropes to be thrown so that they can scale the yacht and hopefully put a nail in one of however many more coffins that Adam needed to be laid to rest in.

“My mom used to tell be going rock climbing was stupid,” Kimberly says as she swings her rope around and flings it up over the edge of the boat, the hook on the end clattering against the railing. “Boy I bet she’s proud of me now,” she admits before hopping off the side of Silas’ boat and swinging to meet the hull of the yacht. Kimberly boots thump softly against the hull and all her weight hangs on her arms. Kaylee has had to do similar exercises before in her NYPD training, climbing a knotted rope up a wall. For this, she’s thankful.

As Kimberly climbs, the muscles in her forearms are visible as she starts the ascent. Though she is Chess’ identical twin, it’s clear that Kimberly has led a more physical life and labored in ways Chess hadn’t. She isn’t quite as lean as Chess is, and the others can see it in the taut pull of her jacket at her shoulders as her muscles flex. She continues pulling herself up the hull, three steps, then four, then five, and finally she grasps the railing and hauls herself up.

This was the plan.

This was the plan.

As Luther and Kaylee jump to follow Kimberly, Eve is able to simple discorporate into a hazy cloud of crimson energy and float up alongside them. Kimberly is crouched down by the railing, whispering down to the others. “It’s all clear,” she says, “I can see a woman in the cabin. This dog is a good boy,” she adds, and Von pokes his head between the horizontal bars of the railing, tongue hanging out and ears perked forward as Kimberly scratches at his chin.

“Do we get to keep him?” Kimberly asks, looking back over her shoulder to the cabin of the ship.

As Kimbery climbs, Kaylee looks back at Silas with concern. Eyes unfocus a moment, finally, she offers the man at the ship’s helm a lop-sided smile, while she settles her rifle in place across her back for the climb. “Time to tap out, Silas. She has a company trained mind, but I think I can take it from here long enough to get us up there. Save up the rest of your strength.” He gets a confident wink, before she follows the others up the rope.

As she nears the top, Kaylee notices the dog and instantly recognizes it. “Holy shit. Is that Peyton’s dog?” It had been years since she last saw Von, but… “Of course, we’re going to keep him. Even better, we’re going to get him back to his rightful owner.” If Kaylee has any say in it at least.

Finishing her assent, Kaylee drops down on deck and pulls her sidearm, her attention is now fully on Siobahn as she continues to focus the woman’s attention elsewhere. All she needed was to keep it going as long as it takes the others to get onboard.

So caught up in keeping Siobahn distracted, Kaylee had pulled a ‘Liz’ and neglected to pick up the helmet she’d thrown down at Luther’s feet earlier in the day. Oops. At least there weren't a lot of threats.

"Yeah. Get the boat outta range when we're on the other deck," Luther remarks to Silas and a concurring nod acknowledging the note from Kaylee. "If there's trouble, we'll signal." At least, that's the plan.

Luther hauls himself up the hull last, following the ladies on to the deck with a heavy sighed grunt. Warily he squints out of his helment visor at the all clear, and then at the dog. He doesn't voice his surprise aloud, but seeing Von leaves him in incredulity. It's been how long? With a shake of his head and a brief pause to pat Von's, the man proceeds to follow where Kaylee's directed them.

Siobahn's in the cabin, so that's where he stalks towards, pulling a pistol to hold point down on the approach. No less-than-lethal Banshees tonight.

Silas nods to Kaylee's suggestion; if someone else is offering to tag in before his brain cooks itself, he's not about to say no. He lets out a shuddering breath as he lets go; the sheer relief that rolls over him is almost enough to bowl him over.

Silas leans against the console a moment longer… until Luther offers his suggestion. "Like hell," Silas retorts, raising a head to glare sightlessly at Luther through the prismatic blobs assaulting his field of vision. "If I get far enough away to matter, I probably won't be able to get back in time if things go to shit, even if you do signal. I ain't gonna leave anyone to die." Ever again, a voice whispers at the back of his mind.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine in a few. Get goin'. And… good luck."

As Eve returns to corporeal form she leans over the railing and looks down at Silas, "Pssst, Old Guy, come up when you have a chance," Giving Luther a gentle nudge in the ribs with her elbow before grinning widely at her friend. But then Kaylee says something- "Oh my god," She hisses to Kaylee and looks down at precious Von.

"Peypey has been worried sick!" Another hiss whisper before the former seer is looking around the boat with crimson eyes. A fizzle of red energy crackles on the railing and Eve looks up sheepishly at her friends. Good thing she had just dispersed she had been getting the urge to just blow up.

Eve looks to Luther and nods as she begins to tip toe forward, "Careful friends, the belly of the beast rumbles."

Kimberly, brows raised and lips pursed, was not expecting to kidnap a dog. But she’s entirely willing to roll with it. “Who’s a good boy?” She whispers, scratching Von’s scruff while looking in the direction of the cabin. She’s quick to raise two fingers and then motion toward the cabin, like she’d seen done in movies because she isn’t a professional.

Sticking low, Kimberly walks in a hunch toward the eggshell white door that leads into the back of the cabin. She pops up just enough to take a quick look inside through one of the large windows beside the door, then ducks back down again and waves everyone over. “Little brunette inside,” Kimberly whispers sharply, “she’s got a needle in her hand, headed to the stairs that go uh— ” boat terminology eludes her, so she says, “to the down parts.”

“What the fuck’s the plan?” Kimberly whispers, shrugging aggressively.

Luther makes only a mild noise at being elbowed in the ribs and at Silas' retort, but there's no further protest from the Actual Old Guy of the group. For now he'll entrust Silas and Kaylee to have them covered for human minds and noticers. When Kimberly asks about the plan, though… "We go in, find out who's home, ask 'em nicely to come out and play," considers Luther quietly. "And if they don't want to, we ask. Less nicely." A beat skips. "And hope that your 'estranged' sister don't pop in and make life difficult."

Luther isn’t the only one who left the less then lethal at home. Kimberly’s question get a wicked smile full of mischief, as she follows Luther. “I believe we are going to have a chat,” Kaylee comments quietly, following the bigger guy until they are through the door. Once there, she steps to the side to get line of sight, and brings up the glock.

“Hello Siobhan,” Kaylee comments casually as if talking to an old friend, despite the gun pointing at the other one. The other woman’s training keeps her from invading her mind, but she still stealthily listens for loud thoughts and waits for an opening. “We’d like to have a little chat, I hope you’ll oblige us.” She doesn’t ignore the sleeping mind on the yacht, but her focus is on woman in front of her.

“Like who is below? I’m guessing that,” Kaylee gives a significant look at the needle, “is for them… more importantly where is everyone else?”

If there was a plan, it was fast, loose, and the bare bones of one. There were simply too many variables to consider for something more solid.

He hasn't forgotten about the needle either. Luther pushes further in once Kaylee announces their presence in a more obvious manner, using his armored, physical body to provide cover for Kimberly and Eve. "Head down and see who's there," he notes to the pair while he and Kaylee have Siobhan's attention.

Silas waits, focusing on his breathing. In… and out. In… and out. The side effects of his not-so-little effort don't abate immediately, but as the seconds tick by they do grudgingly begin to fade.

The nausea fades fastest; the pain clawing at his head eases off next, slowly and steadily diminishing into a distant phantom headache. The ringing of his ears and the sizzling garbage occluding his field of vision still cling, but even they begin to diminish as the seconds tick past. In… and out. Keep breathing. Keep your eyes and ears open… as best you can, anyway, he thinks to himself. Give it a little bit longer and he'll be good to go.

Pulling at Kimberly's hand as Kaylee and Luther do the talking, she wasn't that great at putting people at ease so she gladly takes the chance to investigate who exactly is sleeping below. "We got this Kimbo," Whispering in the younger woman's ear for hopefully some form of support but she grins wildly as she places a hand on the wall and continues to make the way forward with Kimberly in tow.

Eve would talk, oh she loves too but it seems like a bad idea to the former seer when someone is apparently sleeping below the deck.

Instead Eve tip toes down below, trying to not make much noise besides the obvious crackle of lightning that sounds every now and then and hopefully not heard over the water surrounding them.

Kimberly tracks backwards past a baffled Siobhan, throwing up horns to Luther as she goes past, then a wink and a thumbs-up because one of those has to be a hand-signal. She pivots to Eve, then looks down the very short stairwell to the below decks. “Lemme go first, anybody shoots I’ll redirect the kinetic energy somewhere else.”

The stairs from the cabin lead into a cramped hallway with faux wood paneling on the walls and a carpeted floor. The stairs create a T-Junction, with a doorway to the left and right. Left heading toward the front of the ship and a door marked Captain’s Suite and right heading toward the back of the ship and a door marked Guest Master Suite. A few extremely narrow and flimsy looking doors line either side of the hallway too, marked clearly as Restroom, Guest Room A, Guest Room B.

Fuck,” Kimberly whispers, looking over to Eve. “Which way?”

Upstairs, Siobhan stops watching Kimberly and Eve out of the corner of her eyes, then looks back to Luther and Kaylee with a slow lift of her hands into the air in a gesture of nervous surrender, the very small syringe pinched between two fingers. “Ne me tire pas dessus,” she hastily says, followed by a more accented, “Don’t shoot.” Her voice is hushed, shoulders raised and head down.

C'est mauvais. J'ai besoin d'avertir Joy. Kaylee hears echoing in Siobhan’s mind. All of her thoughts are in French.

“I am no threat,” Siobhan says with a flick of dark eyes between Kaylee and Luther. “I was a Ferryman, a friend. There is no one else here, please. This is a misunderstanding.” Kaylee knows for certain the assertion about no one else being here is a lie. On the plus side, it means Siobhan has no idea who she is or what she can do.

While Kimberly doesn’t know where this slumbering mind is, but before Eve even stepped down into the depth of the yacht she knows. Kaylee drops a - sort of - snapshot that draws the former’s seers attention in a certain direction. It’s not perfect, but how do you really translate a telepath’s ‘sonar?’

Meanwhile, Kaylee narrows her eyes at the French woman as she rolls off her past, but also straight-up lies. What was she hiding? Luther feels a brush of Kaylee’s telepathy, not unlike the brush of fingers along his cheek. «She doesn’t know what I am. Let’s keep it that way.»

Blue eyes don’t leave the woman, she doesn’t trust her, even if she was Ferry once. “A yacht this size… just you? I seriously doubt that.” Her tone supports that disbelief. “Where is everyone?” Kaylee asks pointedly. While she might not understand the woman’s thoughts, her mental tone is telling, but also… Joy. It could be a coincidence, but… If she was on the boat. Kaylee’s stomach knots with a small thrill of anxiety.

Luther keeps his attention on Siobhan, gun pointed steadily and ready. He might not understand the French entirely given how many decades it's been since school, but there's plenty of requests that he can follow. Including keywords: Ferryman and friend. But even so. The mental brush and information doesn't ease his bit of tension.

With a motion of his gun barrel, Luther indicates, "Against the wall," and steps forth with the intent to search Siobhan's person.

The splotches and blotches in Silas's field of vision have diminished enough now that he feels like he can probably actually do something in a hostile situation other than get shot, which means it's time to get started. Past time, actually, but he'd rather be late than useless. Gun, check. Knives… oh no, I somehow must have forgotten my knives, wherever could they be? he thinks… then snickers. Forgetting his knives. Good one. And… good luck? His hand twitches towards his chest, where that silver and pearl omamori hangs. Check, he thinks, now all serious.

Time to go.

Up the ropes, over the railing, onto the deck of the enemy ship — and boy if that isn't a throwback number he never thought he'd be playing in these waters. Then, it's time to skulk about. He creeps carefully forward, pausing briefly to extend a hand to Von when the dog notices him. The other hand goes absently to a pocket — Silas hadn't been prepared for a dog, but he had been prepared for snacks, and he's pretty sure dogs like jerky.

Downstairs, there's a couple blinks as Eve's mind is flooded with the information from Kaylee and she raises her hand and points at a door. "This one Kimbo, we have a handy Miss Mind. Mmm." The pale woman reaches forward and slowly turns the knob, looking at Kimbo with raised eyebrows. Who was here? Who was sleeping? In this moment Eve wishes she had a joint in hand but instead it's a doorknob.

Dark, wild hair in Eve's face as she sticks her head inside.

Kimberly angles a look over at Eve, nodding before turning her attention in the direction of the front of the ship. She keeps one hand held out in front of herself, listening to the raised voices above with a nervous tension building in her. “This is stupid, this is so fucking stupid, why am I here?” She asks herself in a series of sharp, berating whispers. “I’m gonna get myself killed, you’re gonna get me killed, I should’ve stayed in my trailer.

As Eve and Kimberly approach the door, there’s an audible hum coming through from the other side. The sound is accompanied by a hiss-click of pressurized air and something mechanical. Kimberly looks over her shoulder, mouthing what the fuck to Eve, before turning back and trying the door handle. It turns without issue, and Kimberly grimaces when it does. Exhaling a shuddering breath, she slowly turns the handle and ever so carefully pushes the door open…

Upstairs, Siobhan keeps her eyes locked on Luther’s gun as she backs up against the cabin wall with her hands up. “Non,” she says softly with a quick look to Kaylee, “non, just me. My days of safehouse operating, they are over.” She turns those dark eyes back over to Luther, making a discomforted noise in the back of her throat as he pats her down for anything concealed. He comes up with a pack of Zhonghua branded cigarettes, the red package marked with 中华 in gold. There’s only two cigarettes left, a lighter tucked into the package as well.

Siobhan eyes the cigarettes, then finally notices Silas out the cabin windows, bent over by Von. The fearless guard dog merely waggling his tail and greedily lapping up jerky like there’s no tomorrow. Von borks once, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth happily. She looks back to Kaylee and Luther. “Please,” she insists, “you should not be here. Please.” Her eyes track to the stairwell Eve and Kimberly left through, then back.

Siobhan’s mind is a jumble of panicked French to Kaylee, but she picks up the name Adam on more than one occasion. Eve was right. He’s here.

Downstairs, Kimberly’s eyes widen as she looks through the door, crouched down as she is. When Eve pokes her head in above Kimberly’s, she sees the same confusing scene. The front-end cabin of the boat has been turned into a makeshift hospital room. Empty and unused IV stands are collected against the wall near the door. There are looped lengths of clear plastic tubing for intubation hanging on hooks at the port-side wall. But the middle of the room is where all focus is inexorably drawn.

Sitting square in the middle of the room is a matte gray object some seven feet long and three feet wide. It is tall, coming up to almost waist height. Power cables spool out from it, and the hiss-click comes from a ventilator attached to the huge machine. It looks… something like a coffin, though one with an open lid. The clear tube from the ventilator snakes inside the coffin.

Kimberly hisses softly, her hands shaking. Against her better judgment she creeps forward into the room, occasionally glancing back at Eve. There’s no one else in here. Swallowing down her fear, she gets up to the edge of the open, mechanical coffin and looks down inside, then slaps her hand over her mouth to suppress a scream.

There is a desiccated husk of a man inside the coffin, sunken eye sockets and flesh the color of bruised, decaying meat. Most of the man’s blonde hair is wispy and thin, having fallen out of his head. He is dressed in a hospital gown, revealing his stick-thin arms and legs, withered like sun-dried tomatoes from muscle atrophy. A clear plastic tube is inserted in his mouth, heart rate monitors affixed to his chest with adhesive patches. A display screen Kimberly doesn’t even notice shows his faint vitals.


Upstairs, Siobhan shakes her head and looks frightened. “Please, you must go. There is nothing here for you to steal.” She thinks they’re thieves.

“Bullshit,” Kaylee’s words are clipped, she clearly doesn’t believe Siobahn. “Where’s Adam?” Seeing the syringe still held in those two fingers, Kaylee moves to carefully pluck it from her fingers while Luther deals with the rest of it.

As fingers curl around the syring to secure it, the telepath’s head twitches to one side, much like a dog that heard something interesting. It’s Kimberly’s reactions to whatever they found that tickles at Kaylee’s ability. Putting a little distance between her and their captive, she listens for a moment before turning to Luther.

«They found whoever and… might not be good.» Kaylee murmurs in Luther’s head before, she shifts her ability below with a furrowed brow. «Eve?» She uses the woman’s name like a question about her well being.

The patdown is quick and professional on Luther's part. He glances first towards the windows when Silas' movement catches his eye as well. Then his eyes turn down at the Chinese lettering on the red cigarette package, and something in that glimpse triggers a more hostile reaction as he crumples paper box in his gloved fist, squeezing the cigarettes within against the tucked lighter. A flash of a thought to Alix and Chess across the country in Praxia. The muzzle of his pistol presses closer to Siobhan's vulnerable skull. As Kaylee's telepathic communication relays that bit of status, he growls a low, dissatisfied, "Fuck." The man doesn't exactly clarify what he's dissatisfied about, until he reaches for Siobhan's shoulder to spin her around to face them. "You expectin' someone, huh? Other Ferryman? What's in the needle?"

Even as he asks those questions, Luther turns and not-so-gently guides Siobhan towards the short stairwell. "C'mon," he insists firmly. At gunpoint. "Let's go see what's so worth protecting."

"Who's a good boy?" Silas asks, scritching the dog behind the ears. He's now out of emergency snacks, having fed them to the dog. Worth it. But… he is kinda on the clock here, and he thinks the guard dog has been… er… suitably pacified. "You're a good boy," he says, patting the dog lightly. "Arright, back to work with me," he says, rising to his feet and padding off towards the cabin, to join Kaylee and Luther.

"Shiitake mushrooms," Eve whispers downstairs as she creeps forward with Kimberly, crimson eyes as wide as saucers. The energy that emits from her keeps her at a distance for now. On tiptoes she looks down into the coffin before backing away with a wild expression plastered on her face.

Miss Mind, you guys all come down here please. If a strained smile can be heard through a telepathic shout. The original. The last word echoes as Eve repeats it and finds herself speaking aloud and blinking. "You gave them life and they stick you here?" Long pale fingers dance and play across the wall of the room with her head tilted to one side. Her wild mane of dark hair half obscuring her face. "Why… keep you at all?" Here with seemingly not much protection. Was hiding him in the middle of the ocean the best plan?

Ego was a killer and Eve gasps as she remembers what the Dragon has said to her:

"You can find it with that information. You can destroy it. Adam. Forever.”

The woman shudders and shakes her head, "You old fool," Her fists tightening, "Every tree has roots Kimbo. I think we just found his. //Burn it from the start, the rest will follow. Burn it at the head and another grows." A working assumption, they were linked right?

Kimberly shakes her head slowly. “Eve,” she whispers, “what the fuck is this?” Then, as she looks over to the former seer hunched over the ACTS container, she startles and squints. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Kimberly asks, putting a hand tentatively on Eve’s shoulder.

They’re gold.

Upstairs, Siobhan struggles against Luther’s instructions. “Non!” She cries. “Non, please. Don’t do this. No one is coming, I am alone out here. There is no one else.” Kaylee hears the word sous-marin floating around in Siobhan’s head as well, enough that it has to be something important. “The syringe is medicine, please.” But Kaylee is able to pick up a shift in Siobhan’s thoughts: they’re hastening, agitated. “Please do not do this, there is nothing here for you.”

As Silas comes in through the cabin door, he hears Von start barking again. The dog’s protesting bork, bork, bork sounds just like it did when Silas first climbed on board the boat. The hairs on the back of Silas’ neck rise a moment later when the dog’s barking stops. Halfway through the door to the cabin he turns, looking over his shoulder to see Von sitting in the middle of the deck, panting contentedly with a young, reddish-brown-haired girl crouched down beside him, scratching the scruff of his neck.

She pauses, then turns to look up at Silas with gold eyes.


Found you,” the girl says in a soft, kind voice.

Silas isn’t the only one that notices the dog, more importantly….. Kaylee realizes there was suddenly someone else. Taking a moment, as Luther moves to push the woman down the stairs, she looks behind them. Her breath catches and the telepath yanks her ability as far from the woman on the deck. A hand reaches out to snag Luther’s arm to pull his attention. “It’s her,” Kaylee hisses out quietly.

Eve’s instructions aren’t ignored, in fact, Kaylee makes a recommendation. «You might want to come up here.» An image forms in the former seer’s mind of the Entity. «We have company.» Eve can sense the anxiety and fear in the telepath, before she’s gone, turning to a new issue.

“We don’t have time for this.” Kaylee turns and suddenly brushes past Luther, grabbing Siobhan before she can get too far down the stairs. The syringe is secured in a pounce moments before she shoves the woman up against the wall, an arm pressed into her neck while the rest of her holds the woman to the wall. It brings them face to face. Blue eyes are fierce, the telepath means business. “What’s in the syringe? And don’t just say medicine, what is it used for?” This could be important or not.

Kaylee looks harder at the woman’s mind, hoping the question will jog it to the surface… Stealth isn’t useful anymore as probably one of the most dangerous creatures was on the deck. What’s there isn’t what she expected to see and the telepath gasps out loud. Sous-marin. The memory attached to that word? “Submarine?” Kaylee hisses softly and urgently, arm pressing a bit more, but not enough to choke her. “A goddamn nuclear submarine? Jesus fucking Christ, Adam.”

Not only did they have the Entity on the deck… somewhere below there was a submarine with nuclear capability. Could they be any deeper in the shit?

“Please tell me it’s far away from here,” Kaylee asks Siobhan quietly, her arm easing slightly.

Kaylee really hopes it is.

Luther presses back when Siobhan resists, and a growled out, "Shut up and move" escapes. But that coupled with the barking behind him escalates to the point he's on the verge of putting the gun barrel right in Siobhan's face again, until there's a touch from Kaylee to his arm to stay him. Luther swings his attention to the telepath. Her? At first, he thinks the reference still means Siobhan. But the urgency - the fear - with which Kaylee's sudden assault on the French woman startles even him when he's pushed aside.

He's split his attention then, having expected Silas to come through the cabin door, and with Von suddenly stopped in barking it's enough to tingle the little hairs along his neck, too. "Who's that?" rumbles Luther when he looks through the open cabin door catching a glimpse of the strange girl's form. He turns back to Kaylee and Siobhan briefly, accusing the latter, "The fuck… thought you said you weren't expecting company?"

But never mind. Luther swings his focus out, leaving the interrogation to Kaylee while he picks a defensive positioning between the deck and the cabin with the women behind and below. "What's goin' on out there, Silas?" he calls out to the other man. With pistol raised again, he takes a few steps towards the deck.

For a moment, Silas doesn't move — he just stands there, frozen, halfway through the doorway and looking back over his shoulder. Who, me? is his first thought… but she's looking right at him. Even if she did have X-ray vision, he doesn't think any of the others are directly in line with him.

Silas turns away from the cabin, and steps outside. "You have indeed," he says softly, lips curling up into a small, kind smile. He isn't sure who She of Golden Eyes is, or why she was looking for him… but…

"Everything's fine," he answers Luther distractedly, without taking his eyes off the girl. Right now, for this moment, it is, isn't it? Maybe things can stay that way.

"You've come a long way," he says to the girl. That must certainly be true — they're a long way from anywhere, here.

As Kimbo reacts to it all Eve can't even begin to explain because she says your eyes are gold. The pale woman's eyes widen and she slowly holds up a hand seeing the gold illumination and her whole body vibrates as energy wafts off of her and she backs up slowly against the wall. "What…?"

Kaylee's mental message makes the woman's head snap upwards to the roof of the cabin and she holds up a finger pointing. "Kimbo… will you… watch your father? Scream if anything changes, we have an unexpected guest." The dark haired woman then charges out of the room and down the hall, taking the steps two at a time, bare feet slapping on the wooden floor. Coming to a halt at the top of the stairs and blinking at the actual sight of The Entity standing there and Silas and the others as well.

Chest rising and falling rapidly as she tilts her head, both of them barefoot with wild hair the wind has a few strands flying into Eve's face. Blazing gold eyes stare into the opposite pair, "Didn't trust me to get it done… Mother and Father?" Her rasp chokes out and Eve straightens her back.

Up on the ship’s deck, the Entity looks from Von to Silas, offering him a simple and seemingly innocent smile. She seems harmless, completely content to rake her slender fingers through the scruff at Von’s neck. Inside the cabin, Siobhan is at once confused and terrified. She stops struggling now that Kaylee’s arm pins her to the way. Her attention shifts out to the girl on the deck. Questions of the submarine are lost. She starts to shake her head in the negative, then reconsiders. “Non, I do not know whh— ” Her answer to Luther’s question dies in the back of her throat as she catches a glimpse of the gold eyes. She does not explain what the syringe is, she doesn’t even think of it. Her mind is a static of fear. “No,” Siobhan whispers, “no, no, no, no…”

Siobhan’s dark eyes flick to Kaylee. Terrified, but she now understands what the blonde is. The submarine mention gave it away. Now Kaylee can read clear intent in Siobhan’s mind: take his gun, kill the girl. This time it’s in English. This time it’s a plea.

Outside the cabin, the Entity slowly rises to stand from her crouch beside Von. Eve’s presence brings that movement out in her. “I would think a seer would understand,” she says to Eve with a wrinkle of her nose, “I trusted you to see.” She lifts one hand, a tingle finger tugging down her right eyelid, then releasing it.

“I could not have truly found him without you, Eve.” The Entity’s expression is a gentle, fond smile. “Is this what you saw when I touched your mind? Showed you what you needed to see?” Eve’s heart sinks into the bottom of her stomach. The Entity had no idea what it had shown her. It had no idea how to find Adam.

“I could not have done any of this,” the Entity says as she takes a few steps toward Eve, “without my herald.” There is a low, harmonic rumble that comes from the Entity, followed by a sudden churning of the sea. The boat rocks from side to side, waves crest in peaks like great chop, and the Entity’s golden eyes glow brighter.

Slowly, she lifts one hand over her head, fingers splayed. As she does, there is a tremendous groaning sound that fills the air, a roar of the surf and another lurch of the boat. Off the starboard side of The Clipper a long swell in the ocean bulges up and then tears away to reveal a dull, black metal hull of a submarine some three hundred feet long. It’s come up sideways from the ocean, and Silas has never seen anything like this in all his seafaring life.

Especially when the submarine is lifted out of the water. The Praxis Heavy Industries branded nuclear submarine groans with the roar of protesting metal as it no longer has the buoyancy of water to support the vessel’s tremendous weight. Propellers spin helplessly in the air and cascading waves of water roll down off of the massive vehicle as it hangs in the air like a balloon. “He thought he was so clever,” the Entity says softly.

Foolish Kensei.” The Entity whispers, “so short-sighted.”

Siobahn’s suggestion is noted and to be fair, Kaylee probably thinks the same thing as the loud groan erupts outside. As the sub surfaces into her telepathic field, shrieking and panicked minds starts to flicker into existence, like fireflies at dusk. Each one pounding loudly about her mental shields, forcing a gasp through the telepath’s lips.

Siobahn feels the pressure on her loosen, before she is simply abandoned. Kaylee grimaces, as the sub leaves the water, and places at hand to her side of her head and pained groan.

“Stop!” Kaylee suddenly shouts through the tumultuous sound of fear coming from the sub. Feet start moving on their own accord towards the door.

“Put them down!” She shouts, sounding like she is scolding one of her kids, before Silas is pushed aside so that Kaylee could stumble out onto the deck, glock raised at the Entity. Everything in her was screaming to shoot her, but despite the thing in there, what looked back at them looked like a girl. One not much older than her own daughter, Emmy. That same face sat across from her at the dinner table and shared stories with her children. Someone she had once seen as a friend had worn that face. She knew it wasn't her anymore. But…

Kaylee couldn’t pull the trigger.

The gun falls to her side, with a frustrated sigh, as Kaylee pleads with the thing within the girl. “You want Adam. They are not him and don’t deserve that,” she says with a motion towards the sub. There was a time the telepath was one of them, blindly following the orders. If she couldn’t save Adam, she’d try to save them and save herself from the pain of their minds being snuffed out. Those final memories would haunt her dreams.

At the moment Eve appears on the deck and sees the girl, Luther hisses out to the former seer. "Where's Kim?" His raised pistol remains trained on the nonchalant newcomer who hasn't seemed to notice them at all. And why would she, given the moment a fully sized nuclear submarine lifts from the Atlantic and is hoisted into the air. He can't help but stare mutely at the spectacle. He jolts as he's also budged aside when Kaylee appears on deck with gun aimed.

He braces in the seconds he expects her to pull the trigger. But when she doesn't and shouts at the girl, it kicks him back into gear. Thus reminded, thus pushed to do something to take hold of something, Luther turns to the girl. He belts out a short warning to the others, "Fire in the hole!" And with a focused stare, whips out a hand to call upon a crackling-boom burst of blinding lightning and fire in front of the submarine assailant's face.

Huh, is all Silas can think. Not me after all. There's relief in that, though also a hint of disappointment. Fear, too, but he's got too much on his mind for it to really touch him; it's a far away thing, bright and distant like the sun. She'd teleported in here, and she'd fished a submarine out of the ocean like someone pulling a tuna from the depths… and at the same time, she's petting the dog and smiling, just like any happy little girl with her puppy.

And then, off in the infinite distance, fear transmutes to shock as she speaks. Herald.

Speak, Herald.

Witness. Do not run. Do not hide. I brought you here. To witness.

Words he'll never forget. He'd witnessed — oh, yes he had. Had it been a warning? Or a proclamation? Silas had never figured out which. But that doesn't really matter, because unless Heralding with a capital H is some kind of gig based job — and SIlas really doesn't think it is — then this is the author of that dread revelation. That's enough to throw Silas into even more of a tailspin than he'd already been… and enough that he's caught off guard, sent staggering, when Kaylee comes barreling through the door.

He raises a hand towards the telepath as she points her gun at the girl — that is a sight that strikes him as wrong on almost every level — only to sigh with relief as she chooses to use words instead.

Then Luther sets off a fireball or whatever it is his trick does.

What the actual fuck. Why. Why would you do that, one part of his mind thinks, while most of the rest is sent into absolute turmoil because some idiot just took a swing at someone who is levitating a submarine without visible effort. But he's moving even so. Not to run, not to hide — though those would be attractive alternatives right now if he thought it would make a difference — but because Luther had asked a salient question before apparently losing his goddamn mind. Where's Kim?

Silas means to find out. He probably won't even be missed, being honest… but maybe he can see to it that Kim gets out of here alive if or when things go even more pear-shaped.

"No… Why do you keep doing this? Did he steal your heart?!" The first question is more a rhetorical one because The Entity asked explained twice, always the herald. What was she missing? Was this all just to put Adam in his place for the betrayal centuries ago? Then the vessel used for a spirit far too powerful lifts that small hand and the submarine is wrenched from its position and left hanging above, Eve's face becomes wet with the mist and water raining down from above, gold eyes that burn so intensely widen in shock.

Sacrifice is the only way. A crimson streak of lightning releases down and over her back and Eve shudders while placing her arms around herself, rocking back and forth slowly. "Sacrifice is the only way… sacrifice is the-" Kaylee's action almost have the pale woman jumping over to block her much more for her own safety than for the Entity's but then the words she use would be suited for something that thought like a human and this spirit had grew beyond that long ago. "Psst… Miss Mind, she doesn't-" Eve doesn't finish that sentence, hoping for mercy is the best they could do right in this moment.

Luther fires off a question, "Watching Daddio, the Original." Is her quick reply before those eyes widen again and she crouches down, "Ohhoho," Slapping pale hands over her ears, Eve squeezes her eyes shut knowing what this is from her friend. Can't say she hasn't done very similar things in very similar situations. Fuck it!

"F-Fire in the hole!! A sun god approaches!" Ever the supportive friend as the stream of light and fire is thrown towards the Dragon. Eve knew from the memories that she witnessed, not even a nuke could scratch this. Hopefully this didn't result in their deaths.

So much happens so fast.

Eve’s question to the Entity is lost in the roar of flames and electricity that erupts on the deck of the ship. Von scrambles from it like a dog would from a thunderstorm, yelping and barreling past everyone into the cabin as fast as he can. The blinding flash consumes all vision of the Entity from those on the ship. Siobhan shields her eyes and lets out a hiss of surprise. Without Kaylee or Luther restraining her, she ducks her head down and scrambles behind cover in the cabin.

There is a distant, protesting groan of metal when the submarine begins to fall from the sky as the Entity’s focus is broken by the energetic explosion. The vessel drops the two hundred feet it had been raised in the blink of an eye, colliding with the surface of the water in a massive crash that rings with deafening report. The ocean swells around the impact, sending a wave rocketing toward the Clipper. Silas, having the best sea legs of all the passengers, braces for the impact against the side rail a split second before it smashes into the ship.

The Clipper pitches from stern to port, tilting to a near 45-degree angle and sending Kaylee flying toward the side of the ship, gun flying from her hands to clatter across the deck. With Silas in the cabin there is no one there to catch Kaylee and she collides with the railing and is thrown over the side. She flails out one arm, barely able to catch the other side of the seawater slicked metal before she plunges into the churning ocean between the Clipper and Silas’ boat. Luther, braced in the doorway of the cabin, sees Kaylee’s precarious grip slipping at the same time his vision comes back. Eve, able to shift between physical and intangible form with a thought has maintained her balance by briefly becoming insubstantial as a reflex.

A pair of glowing gold eyes burn through the sea spray washing over the deck as the ship rights itself against the wave. The Entity looks like a wayward orphan, drenched to the bone as she is. Burns on her face and hands from the intensity of Luther’s blast slowly begin to stitch themselves shut as she makes a gesture to the submarine, then clenches her hand shut as the metal in the middle of the vessel compresses like a beer can. She twists her wrist, wrenching the metal as though it were aluminum foil, and then releases her grip as the ship begins to sink into the ocean depths.

The Entity levels unblinking eye contact on Luther. Silas can hear those words as he makes his way through the cabin, catching a quick glimpse of Siobhan out of the corner of his eyes, ducked behind a cabinet in the kitchenette. He is quick to thunder down the stairs Kimberly had gone down with Eve, and misses Siobhan coming up from behind the counter with something in her hand.

Below decks, Silas comes to a stop at the T-junction as the ship finishes rocking. He can hear Kimberly’s hissing protests and profanity and knows precisely which way to go. Scrambling down the hall, he finds Kimberly in the medical room beside that ACTS container. The IV stands have fallen over, shelves are thrown open and packages of gauze and other medical supplies are scattered across the floor from the ship’s violent impact. “What the fuck is going on!?” Kimberly shouts, looking around frantically.

The Entity takes one barefooted step forward across the deck, right before a gunshot rings out over Luther’s shoulder. The Entity jerks back, one hand coming up to her side as blood blossoms at her abdomen. Siobhan stands behind and to the side of Luther with a handgun clutched in trembling grip. Before she can fire again, the Entity looks up and widens her eyes. Siobhan unravels like thread, blood raining down to the floor as she is disassembled on a molecular level; skin; bones, organs, clothes, even the gun she was holding are all unwoven as if she were tightly-wound wool on a spoon. She doesn’t even scream.

One moment Siobhan is there, the next she is simply gone.

Adam,” the Entity demands, turning burning gold eyes to Luther and Eve, and she takes one more step forward with a wince, holding the side where she was shot.

It all happens too fast for Kaylee. .

There was barely any time to duck, with arms over her head to protect herself, before Luther’s fireball went off. The heat of it washes over her and practically takes her breath away. While thankful he was able to do what she could not, its short lived as the mental shrieks from in the sub turn into sheer terror.

None of them wanted to die. So many were screaming about it, others were thinking about wanting to see their own kids and loved ones. Then after a millenia the sub slams into the water.

Kaylee is barely on her feet when it happens and the first minds blink out, their last moments slammed against her mental shields and seared into her mind. “No!” She half shrieks just before the wave hits and the world upends, sending her tumbling across the slanted deck towards the churning ocean.

The breath is knocked out of her when she collides with the railing; there is an audible pop as her side connects and a sharp pain. She knows instantly she might have broken something. Red creeps into her vision as fingers manage to snag the wet railing, aggravating the fresh injury.

Tears mingle with the droplets of salt spray that cling to her cheeks as she breathlessly screams, not in her own pain, but those of the dying as the sub is crunched and left to sink. The chaos even drowns out the panic of Siobahn before she simply stops existing. Kaylee twists to watch it sink, even though she can feel her grip loosen; it felt like her duty to do so. “I’m sorry,” is all she can think as those that survived faced drowning.

Even with his head whipped to a side and eyes squinted, Luther sees the flash and spots, the thunderous boom of his attack leave his ears ringing. He exhales with effort, but that barely gives him any time to brace for the heavy wave that slams into the boat's side and nearly sends Kaylee overboard. By the time he spots the telepath clinging for dear life, eyes widen and his weight shifts with intention to scramble from his position towards her. At least, it was. He grimaces as the wounds he inflicted already begin healing. Once storm grey eyes lock upon golden ones, Luther stops cold under the stare.

Luther sucks in a sharp breath as the waifish girl takes a step towards him, bracing tensely. His muscles twitch at the gunshot from his shoulder, but it's enough to break off the enraptured stare at the Entity. Just in time, or one may argue moments too late, to stop Siobhan from disintegrating into a red pool intermingling and joining the spray and the sea draining off the deck.

He might have continued staring in stunned horror, until the Entity speaks her demand. A voice he's heard before, a voice from a dream? The girl's voice strikes him as familiar. Too familiar. He'd heard it somewhere calling to him, before. Sunspot, New Mexico.

Yours is a chariot that can carry the sun on its back. All the heavens bow to you, if only you would raise your head high enough for them to see.

"Why?!" shouts the man, his retort barks out, choked with outrage building into visible waves of heat rising off his shoulders and gloved hands.


He remembers. Luther whirls back to face the girl, blinking hard and fists clenched. "What is the fucking point?!" What feels like a lifetime ago now, he'd been content to simply make his way in the world and survive under circumstances wrought in his life. Up until everything had been wrenched away. Once, twice, thrice.

An unending circle of death.

All the years he spent feeling like he'd had an ounce of control, only for it to turn out to be a fake. Or perhaps, Fate. He rebels against the notion, ripping off his helmet and tossing it down, revealing a faint glowing of his skin and a focused stare down. Luther steps forward a pace towards the Entity, standing to full height at a position shielding Eve behind him. "This bullshit," he snarls, "stops now. You want Adam? Give us a reason. One fucking good reason."

You ever seen Carrie?! Because we're shooting the remake right now, and we're doing it live, Silas wants to say — thankfully, having missed Siobhan's awful fate, he doesn't know how on the nose that particular assessment had been. "Trouble showed up topside," he pants.

"That swell that hit us was a submarine getting pulled outta the water and then dropped, like a kid playin' in the bathtub," he says… and then he catches sight of who it is that's actually laying in the coffin.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes, looking at the shriveled body in the coffin. He knows something of Adam Monroe's actions in this world, but he'd met Adam in his own timeline; seeing Monroe like this is shocking in a way Silas hadn't expected it to be. "Old Man, you look like shit…" he whispers, momentarily distracted.

As soon as Eve snaps back to corporeal form her mouth is wide at the destruction, the sub… Siobhan… Kaylee hanging on for dear life. As Luther calls for an answer to his question Eve steps forward slowly, barefeet making ripples in the water that's washed onto the deck. "I don't think we have a choice Hot Hands," Not right now, not this unprepared. Eve says it softly as she comes closer behind him almost putting a hand on his shoulder but she looks at the Entity from behind the large man, gold eyes seeking the matching pair pleading with her not to let her friends have the same fate as Siobahn only moments before.

There's so much she understands and so much she still doesn't. Biting the inside of her lip and nodding over towards Kaylee. "We will take you, please bring her back over to us? She helped… with the Crossing. To bring you here." That might be stretching the truth but Eve gathered the Entity already knew of Kaylee's involvement. "Don't worry Miss Mind!" Trying to sound reassuring though the situation they are in is becoming more and more dangerous. As if it hadn't been from the very start.

She led her friends into a trap.

The pale woman starts for the entryway leading below deck and she turns her head towards the girl, "What does he have that you want so much?" The woman twitches and presses a hand against the wall, "What do you want to kill?" Remembering her words more clearly in this moment. Kill it.

Crimson energy wafts out from Eve and the lighting crackles around her form. Kill it. What could be so important?

The Entity pauses, all forward movement arrested as she stares up at Luther. Her thin, waterlogged frame looks so weak in comparison to his thick, muscular one. She is practically eclipsed by his silhouette. Those gold eyes shimmer with faint, internal light as she watches his gaze. But then she blinks, looking over to Eve, then past her to Kaylee, struggling to hold the rail. Gold eyes blink back to Eve and Luther, and the Entity continues its slow and purposeful stride forward, walking past them both into the boat cabin, bare feet treading through a puddle of pink water that was once Siobhan Delaflote.

She does not save Kaylee. Kaylee, whose grip slips. Kaylee, who plummets with a sudden scream into the icy waters between the Clipper and Silas’ boat. Kaylee plunges into the frigid depths of the February Atlantic, arms and legs kicking as she is rapidly swallowed by cold darkness. Von, hearing that shriek, perks his ears forward and lets out an authoritative bork and runs for the railing and dives over it into the water.

Down below, Kimberly watches Silas with wide eyes. “You— know him?” She asks with a shaky voice, looking down into the sarcophagus of plastic and steel. Adam says nothing, the plastic tube down his throat still in place, eyes still shut. “Silas— Silas what the fuck do we do?” Kimberly asks as she reaches behind herself, untucking a small handgun from the waist of her jeans, eyes darting around the room nervously.

In the cabin, the Entity rebuked both Luther and Eve’s inquiry with silence. But as she reaches the top of the stairs she is given pause, looking down to her bare feet, then up and over her shoulder to the pair. Thunder peals in the distance where there was no stormclouds, though now the skies have rapidly darkened. “Adam has nothing,” she says with a soft voice, “except his own rage. He’s a boy with a sword, playing in a field, chasing dragons of shadow and imagination.”

Her gold eyes redirect to the stairs. “I am tired of his dangerous games. I will not…” her voice takes a deeper quality, “go back.”

Mercifully, the dying minds sink away from Kaylee’s telepathic field, clearing her own so that she can think and really grasp the danger she’s in. Panic filled the woman, but then there is Eve’s voice telling her not to worry. Though with a glance down at the churning black water, those words do not fill her with a lot of confidence. Eve does push her to try and save her damn self. A noble endeavor, except for one thing… when she felt her fingers slip a little on the damp metal, instinctively she tried to make a grab with her other hand.

The telepath’s side erupted in pain and she felt her fingers slip.

There is only a moment for Kaylee to think about how far away her voice seemed to her own ears, before she went feet first into the water. The darkness that had edged her vision is pushed back by the shocking sensation of icy water flowing over her face. under water, it was so dark. She hated the dark. Feared it. Enough so that panic has armored legs kick hard to get her to the surface. The telepath surfaces with a choked gasp, filling her lungs with precious air, and making her ribs ache that much more. She could already tell it was going to be more effort than she thought to keep above the surface, especially as a chill settled into her bones. Kaylee’d freeze soon if she didn’t get out.

Struggling, she looks for the rope, but only manages to glimpse Von paddling bravely to Kaylee. Such a good boy! A dumb boy for jumping in, but still good. “Von!” She tries to call out through chattering teeth, only to get a mouth full of sea water.

Kaylee can already feel the fatigue setting in along with hypothermia, that forced muscles to seize up. Then it occurs to her…

The armor!

Maybe if she could get it off, Kaylee reasons with herself, then she could float enough to give more time to find an escape. One shoulder latch is easily released, but when she tries to use the other arm to finish releasing the armor, the pain is blinding. Worse she couldn’t seem to lift far enough for her to reach the final emergency latch. No! Despite the pain, Kaylee struggles to push through, but in doing so she sinks under again. This time her legs are not strong enough to push her and the armor to the surface again.

Of those present topside, only Eve has seen Luther in the state that has oft played prelude to destructive capability. The touch to his shoulder, her calmer voice, pull him back from a traumatic brink as the heat waving off and steaming droplets of sea spray subsides. Caution returns to override the urges for violence. The man blinks hard, breaking the murderous stare aimed at the girl as she passes him and Eve and makes her way into the cabin.

He has nothing except his own rage.

The phrase cuts deeply enough it extinguishes Luther's angered outburst. But it also brings him back firmly into the present moment. He whips his head towards the sound of Kaylee's shriek, the heavy splash, Von's bark as the dog leaps overboard. Luther tears his gaze back to the girl pushing further into the cabin, towards Kimberly's and Silas' location below. Then to Eve, his stare desperately burning with the plea to the former seer. Save them. Please.

Stillness bursts into action. Luther grabs for a nearby life preserver and then off to the railing where Von had jumped. Eyes scan the churning water until finally he spots Kaylee break through the surface. The quick release pulled, he sheds his Aegis armor and hurls the protective gear to the deck before climbing over the rail. A scant few seconds to recalibrate and toss whatever doubt he has. Then the man jumps towards where he had last seen the telepath before she's gone back beneath the surface.

Downstairs, Silas has an epiphany. Whoops, shit. Cat's out of the bag. "I… knew him. Once. In another life," Silas says, grimacing. He looks over to Kimberly. "If we're both alive after this, I'll tell you the story. It's a wild one," he says, mustering a weak grin. Why not? That's looking like a dim damn chance at the moment, and Silas knows more than most that having something to look forward to can make all the difference in the world in a time like this. Even if it is just hearing an old salt telling sea stories.

Silas straightens a bit as Kimberly asks her question, as she pulls out her gun. He's seen the face of someone on the border of panic before, and he's seeing something awfully close to that in her face. Right. Get your shit together. A crap plan is better than no plan, right now. Silas reaches out and lays a hand gently on Kimberly's forearm, then shakes his head. "If it comes down to a fight, we've lost. She can pick up a submarine; sinkin' a yacht's a lot easier than that, and she can teleport out. We can't."

He withdraws his hand for a moment, reaches into a pocket, then pulls something out.

A key. The key that starts the boat, to be specific.

"Take this. It's the key to the boat," he says calmly, holding eye contact with Kimberly; he may not be calm, but he can look calm with the best of them. "There's only one damn thing on this boat that anyone is gonna be after, and if she goes after that, she ain't after us. We're gonna go down the other side of the hallway and duck into one of those rooms. When she's past the junction, you just… walk out, nice and calm. I kept the boat hidden, I can keep you hidden." He's got enough gas in the tank for that, at least. Hopefully. God, let me have enough gas in the tank for that. There may not be a man behind the curtain, but there aren't a lot of atheists in a foxhole, either, or so the saying goes; trite it may be, but there's some truth in that one. "Get to the boat, be ready to fire up the engine. I'll try to cover everyone else's exit, but we'll need to get going the instant we can."

They can't outrange Golden Eyes, but if she wanted them dead, they'd be dead right now. He nods one more time to Kimberly. "Let's go," he says, giving his best reassuring smile as he gestures for her to lead the way.

Back upstairs, Kaylee's fall and then Luther's diving into the water after her has Eve crying out. But she soon has her eyes on the back of the Entity and her eyebrows raise, "You don't want to go back to the In Between, your prison, the deep empty space that holds it all still," she whispers frantically and then her body hums and glows with that blood red light as she shifts her form but this time, two golden orbs float where her eyes should be. She doesn't take another moment's hesitation and burns through the floor to the room with Silas, Kimbo and Adam. As she falls through the floor she shifts back with a crack and pop and lands on her hands and knees breathing heavy.

"She's coming here… hide!" Crimson lightning crackles down her leg and leaves a scorch mark on the cabin floor. Gold colored eyes stare at the door leading out to the hall and she shakes her head fast sending the raven mane flying and clinging to her lips, "She's on the stairs already, hide," Implying Silas' gift, Eve's eyes are wide and she backpedals before wheeling around.

Hopping over to where Adam lies she pokes at the monitor without caring what her energy will do to the electronics, she had planned on trying to kill him still upon finding him in the coffin but she still thought he deserved the dignity to die awake. "Time to wake up, Mumroe." Eve's pale hand smacks against the glass as she repeats the phrase before thinking of trying to shift and burn through the coffin and shake the man.

"Wake up you old baboon!"

Sparks shower from the touch screen panel of the ACTS unit, smoke issues from the seams along that side of the console and digital alarms bellow. “Eve, what are you doing!?” Kimberly gasps, huddling beside Silas with her gun held down at her side in one hand. Kimberly’s protests may as well fall on deaf ears as the ACTS continues to spark and overload. The withered shell of a man held inside writhes after the second shower of sparks, his back arches and he convulses, taking a breath that is strangled by the tube down his throat. He reaches up with one veiny, gray-skinned hand and slowly slides the breathing tube out from his esophagus with a retching and gagging sound, near-blind eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Adam Monroe, reduced to little more than a shadow of his former self, slaps one hand on the open side of the ACTS and exhales a wet, ragged cough as he levers himself up into a seated position. Kimberly covers her mouth in horror, ducking behind Silas, trembling. Adam, wheezing, looks around the room with glassy eyes. His breathing hastens, he looks down at his withered hands, and a dawning look of horror crosses his face. His focus shifts, turning to the pair of golden eyes staring down at him from Eve’s face.

Eve,” Adam gasps in a wet exhalation, “what have you done?”

She's standing by the wall, face nearly pressed up against the turquoise paint. Her pills are on the floor, ashtray scattered, joint unlit. There's no blood at her feet, and the wall — Eve leans back and looks at the smudges of black marred into the surface that take on a shape as she leans away. "Eve," the voice that had been demanding her in her dream is clearer now, not an avalanche but Chicken. As Eve slowly turns from the disaster she scrawled on the wall in charcoal, she looks at a frightened Jolene, standing in the doorway of Eve's bedroom, looking at the strange drawing defaced across the blue-green paint.

"Eve…" Lene murmurs, green eyes flicking from drawing to prophet.

"…what have you done?"

Above deck, Luther scales down the side of the Clipper on one of the ropes used to ascend the ship. The surf is choppy, rougher than it was when they’d first arrived. Dark clouds are gathering overhead, a swirling and unnatural movement of gray and black twisting in spiral patterns that natural weather does not take. The wind has grown strong and bitter cold, exacerbating the sea spray as he searches for signs of Kaylee as she surfaces again, only to be sucked back down into the frigid depths before he can move for her.

A sharp series of barks catch Luther’s attention some fifteen feet away where Kaylee surfaces, drifting out from both vessels. Von has surfaced with her, the dog struggling to stick with her. Von turns, calling out with another sharp series of whines and barks. A peal of thunder cuts over Von’s cries, followed by a flash of lightning further out at sea. The waters churn, the ships rock, a storm is coming.

Back downstairs, Adam stares vacantly at Eve, his jaw trembling, eyes wide. “No, this— you’re not supposed to… be here…” his voice is weak, fragile. It is clear that he is dying; slowly, painfully. But it is the sound of footsteps behind Eve that divides her attention and draws Silas and Kimberly’s focus. Kimberly grabs Silas by the arm and drags him into the corner of the room, clutching the key to his ship in the same hand that is wound into his sleeve. She remembers the weight of the gun in her hand, breath hitching in the back of her throat.

Through the doorway, the vessel of the Entity emerges, dripping with seawater and treading barefoot across the floor. Adam’s eyes lock on her, he goes silent. They stand, now, but ten feet apart from one-another. In this space, it feels as though everything is wide and open, and then suddenly—

it is.

Outside, Luther hears the splitting crack of metal and wood cracking. He feels the Clipper pitch to the side, sees seams splitting in the side of the ship mere moments before the entire cabin explodes upwards in a shower of heatless, lightless energy. It is not an explosion in the most literal of senses, but an upwards disassembly of the ship. Windows, furniture, walls, are all reduced to individual components and flung skyward in a cone. The sides of the ship likewise fly apart as though no longer able to be held together by their welds and nails. Luther is dropped down into the ocean in the same moment as his rope unravels into individual threads of tightly-braided synthetic fiber.

Luther crashes into the depths, mercifully without the weight of his AEGIS armor. He is able to reflexively right himself, legs kicking and arms working against the churn of the ocean, coming back up to the surface with a gasping breath. The water freezes his veins, sends a chill of shock down his spine and to the pit of his stomach. He can see Kaylee and Von nearby, and can also hear voices just over the shattered sides of the ship.

The Clipper is reduced to the silhouette of a skiff, the bottom third of the boat barely above the choppy waterline. Pieces of the ship rain down around the vessel, some striking Silas’ boat, others crashing into the water so close to Kaylee she can feel the rush of air alongside it. Spears of wood and steel perforate the sea as the Entity extends a hand out toward Adam, fingers curled angrily. “Kensei,” she says forcibly, “we should be united in our distrust of those who betray the future…” she starts to curl her fingers closed and Adam grasps helplessly at his neck, trying to pull something away that he cannot touch. “But we are not united. I am not your enemy, Kensei…” her eyes narrow, “I am not your friend.” Her fingers squeeze tighter. “I am your creator.

This isn’t what she expected when she saw the dog paddling towards her, before she went under. The last ditch effort to shed the AIGIS works, the sharp cold of the ocean numbing her ribs just enough for her to reach the final latch. She was going to regret that later. The armor slides away in time for the dog to help her come to the surface. As soon as Kaylee reaches the surface, she starts violently coughing water out of her lungs. Fingers clutch as wet fur as she struggles to get her breathing under control and keep her cold limbs moving, lord it hurt to breath.

The choppy seas weren't helping her situation.

Once she can manage it, Kaylee gives a half sobbed laugh, pressing her face against the dog's fur. “Good boy, Von. Good boy,” she croons at him, with a cough at the end. She’s only glad that her face is wet, cause the tears won’t stop, memories of death swimming through her head even now. She couldn't dash them away.

Desperate for something living, Kaylee is drawn to the familiar hum of Luther’s mind above her, but she when she looks up…. The hanging man sees her eyes widen and she cries out his name in warning. “Luther!” The telepath is helpless only able to watch, with her heart in her throat, as the boat starts to come apart and watch him plunge into the frigid water. So invested in what was happening, Kaylee is startled when hull pieces start to fall around them. Out of instinct, the telepath pulls the dog close and shields him as best she can with her body without sinking them, whispering comforting words. “I got you. Gonna be okay, little guy.”

Once it’s safe enough, Kaylee turns towards the Clipper and moves to swim for the man with the good boy, Von, in tow. “Luther!” He can feel the gentle press of her ability against his mind, checking to make sure he is okay. The multiple hums on the ship is a good sign, at least. Kaylee silently prayed that it stayed that way.

In those seconds of hearing the crackling of the disintegrating boat, Luther spends them horrifically going over possibilities. It's not his life that flashes before his eyes but fates to come. None of which he agrees with. None of which are retained when he's summarily clinging to naught but loose strands of rope as he's plunged into the icy Atlantic. Thoughts leave; it's the lizard brain that churns his legs and wheels his arms, that force his lungs to wait until he's broken the water's surface before hauling for air.

Then it's all back and the man practically roars out, "KAYLEE!" Von's barks coupled with Kaylee's call and brush to his mind whips his attention around, and he narrowly avoids a piece of the railing he had clung to earlier when it smacks into the water beside him. Legs kicking furiously, Luther swims for his life. Once he's close enough, he flings the buoyant preserver out in front of him. "Grab on!"

Once reunited, Luther pulls the telepath and dog closer into his bare arms. "I got you, I got you," he repeats with grit teeth, and only then turns his attention towards the shattered ship nearby. Worry knits his brow, but so does focus as his body works to push away the chill of the waters, drawing upon the battering waves around them to pump out extra warmth.

Eve's entrance is enough to make Silas's stomach do all sorts of funny things — he's seen it before, but here and now it takes him uncomfortably back to Sunspot. What she has to say isn't much better. Shit!

He doesn't ask questions. He just does it, hiding them both, as Eve starts frying Adam's life support coffin… and Adam wakes up.

Adam had looked dreadful before, but seeing him actually moving in his condition is… worse. So much worse. When Kimbo ducks behind him, Silas straightens a bit — the better to interpose himself between them. He doesn't know her story, but she seems to have an especial fear of Monroe; Silas doubts that the Old Man is going to be taking any flying lunges at anyone any time soon, but if it helps Kimbo hold herself together, it's worth it.

Then… footsteps. She's here. This time it's Kimbo who reacts, dragging him back to the corner; bless her. Golden Eyes makes her entrance, barefoot, dripping with brine… and with what looks to be a bullet hole in her side. For a second, Silas feels shock. Then he notices something else. Kaylee and Luther still aren't here. Where are they?

As if to answer that unspoken question, the ship… doesn't so much explode as violently disassembles itself. Silas goes absolutely still. He remembers an old joke they used to have back home about wearing a red shirt when you were outnumbered, and brown pants when you were really outnumbered, and for a moment feels an absurd urge to giggle.

Von's barking distracts him from his own momentary hysteria, thankfully; Luther's screaming also helps. He can see them now; they're alive! But they're also drifting out to sea, and probably gonna be in some serious danger of hypothermia if they stay in the drink very long. And if that wasn't enough… the sky is changing. Everything had been clear on the way out, but now it looks like some weather is coming up; a wind this cold, this sudden, this far south, means they're probably about to have what would've been referred to back home as 'some serious fuck off storms'. We need to get out of here…

Slowly, Silas's gaze shifts back to the girl… who is now telekinetically choking Adam. Kensei? She'd said that before, come to think of it. 'I am your creator'? What the shit is even going on? Maybe Adam Monroe deserves to die — Silas is aware of some of the things the Old Man has done, and maybe saying that he deserves death wouldn't be a stretch. And, being honest… given his current condition, and the fact that Eve just wrecked his life-support pod and Golden Eyes wrecked his boat, seems like death isn't a matter of if so much as when and how painful, at this point. But…

"Kimbo. Go to the boat," Silas whispers. "If Luther and Kaylee stay in the water too long, they're gonna get hypothermia. Especially with this weather coming up. If you throw 'em a line, you can fish em out."

"Doing what I do best! Fucking shi-" Eve’s yelling at Adam is stopped by the Entity's arrival and the moments with those words… but those words.. in her dream. Said twice.. "You know you can be kinda rude we were asking a question- hey!" Eve waves her hands in Adam's direction gold eyes widening at the display of force before the world around them erupts and Eve shifts forms rapidly.

Covering her head as her corporeal form returns there's silence as she crouches there with her mouth hanging open wide in shock, she had come here to learn what she could and then be done with Adam, kill him. Wouldn't it be better if someone else did it? She had conflicted feelings about the man but so something about this felt wrong. "He-He's already dying! Isn't that enough? Just hold on Mother and Father," Eve's kind flashes back to that drawing on the wall and she shakes her head slowly.

"He's already dead," This wasn't how it was supposed to go, lifting her head Eve leaps at the Entity hoping to grab onto her clothing, arm, anything before she feels her ability flex and she wills her body to disperse into a cloud of crimson energy, desperate to do something. Hopeful she can do something.

As Eve approaches the Entity reflexively lashes out, throwing one of her hands out to the side and releasing a shockwave of kinetic force that blasts Eve apart into a vitriolic cloud of surging crimson energy. Sucking in a sharp breath she watches as the cloud surges around her, violent jolts of electricity striking her bare skin and grounding out through the floor. She drops Adam, who collapses back down into his ACTS and out of sight.

Kimberly, Frozen in place, stands in horrified silence as she watches Eve’s incorporeal form swarm around the Entity, sparking and crackling. SIlas’ words are like a dull roar in the back of her mind, hands trembling.

Cease this!” The Entity howls, unleashing a wave of electromagnetic energy from her that crackles through Silas and Kimberly, vibrating behind their eyes and sparking off of every metal surface. The blast sends a shockwave of pain through Eve, forcing her out of her incorporeal stand and violently shunts her back into a more material form. The Entity hisses, steam and smoke rising off of her burned flesh. She turns, angry and willful like a toddler told to go to bed, and reaches out with curled fingers, telekinetically grasping Eve by the throat.

Silas feel’s Kimberly back up against him, then push away. He sees the look of fear in her eyes, and for all the Kimberly wants to save Eve, she wants to save herself more. Kimberly’s feet scuff and slip on the wet floor. She scrambles around the Entity with a keening cry, dropping her gun to the deck as she does before making her way to the partially disassembled stairs. As she ascends the steps, Kimberly turns and looks back over her shoulder, watching Eve struggle in the telekinetic grasp. She sucks in a ragged sob, then jumps the distance between the two ships and lands on Silas’ boat with a crash.

The Entity hurls Eve aside, sending her crashing into the already knocked over IV stands, then turns back to the ACTs that contained Adam. She steps forward, hands clenching into fists. Her face is a mask of fury, eyes as bright as the sun, and when she leans over the ACTS she is met by Adam’s form rising up to meet her. He grabs her by the throat, struggling with all his might. But he is tired, he is old, and now, his time is up.

“Goodbye, Kensei.” The Entity says, and Adam unravels like a spool of crimson thread. There is a scream that resonates from him and slips away into the oncoming storm. His body is reduced to a fine red mist that commingles with the sea spray before vanishing entirely. Slowly, the Entity turns her attention back to Eve, seemingly ignoring Silas.

Nearby, the roar of Silas’ boat engine turning over draws the Entity’s attention away from Eve. Kimberly, standing at the helm, looks at the controls and struggles to figure out precisely how to pilot the ship. She’d seen Silas do it, but panic is making her hands tremble. Making her legs weak. When she looks up over the helm, she locks on to a pair of gold eyes staring directly at her.

The Entity slowly raises one hand…

Kaylee is clinging to Luther, allowing her a brief moment to feel safe in his arms, when she notices the chaos of minds above and the sudden and inevitable extinguishing of Adam’s mind. One of the reasons she had come along was to try and give Adam a measure of peace when Eve killed him, to give him a moment of happiness and not… that. But she missed it. The sudden loss of Adam hits her in a way she didn't expect, a sharp pain of emotions she thought had been squashed. Staring into nothingness, a soft keening that begins at the back of her throat.

”You shouldn’t be here.”

But there is no time to let the surge of emotions drown her, as the engine of their own boat starts up. The sound pulls Kaylee’s attention upward. Allowing her to notice a shift in the monster’s mind and see a pale arm reach out, stretched in the direction of Kimberly’s mind. As she sees slender fingers outstretched, the world seems to fall into slow motion and something snaps within her, with the sharp realization of what was going to happen.

NO!” Kaylee shrieks in panic at the top of her lungs.

She knows what these girls mean to Luther and it tugs at the mother in her and the terror that comes with the thought of losing her own children…. or maybe she is simply tired of all the death today. Kimberly may irritate Kaylee, but the telepath didn’t want her to die.

#FFFF80|”«Leave her alone!»”##

The full force of Kaylee’s ability slams into the mind of the Entity. Without even a thought to her own safety, she had lashed out like a whip. It was too late now, so using the path that Eileen had shown her once, Kaylee latches onto the Entity’s mind. Her single purpose… to save the daughter of the man she loved and hopefully all the rest of them. Luther didn't deserve to suffer more of that unthinkable loss. The telepath couldn’t kill her, but maybe… just maybe she could get her to simply leave. So calling on the silky serpentine whispers of her mind tricks, she tries to weave in a new narrative.

«You got what you wanted! LEAVE!»

«They are below you, not worth your time. LEAVE!»

The words are released into the Entity’s stream of thought. Kaylee doesn't know if it will work, but she knew there was only one way to know. To try it. As the words try to sink in, Kaylee’s through turn unbidden to all those people in the sub and Adam… anger curls into a tight knot in her gut, like a coiled snake trembling with the full potential of its energy. The Entity’s only warning is a soft hiss between clenched teeth before Kaylee suddenly strikes.

The telepath throws all of her energy into plunging her mental fingers into the stream of memories with a guttural scream from the very depths of her soul, letting loose all the terror within her as she shoves the final moments of all those that perished on the sub into the mind of a monster.

To let the Entity feel the way bones snap and pop as the hull crumbles around her.

The taste of copper in her mouth as she is crushed under falling equipment.

To feel the terror and panic as she scrambled for that last breath, as the lights within the sub flicker out leaving her to float in inky darkness. To hold on to that last shred of life, before instinct forces her to breath.

So many memories, so many ways to feel death again and again. Snakes seem to shed off of Kaylee and wiggle into the grasses of the Entity’s mind around her, striking where they will. Unfortunately, in doing this, Kaylee experiences each death again. In Luther’s arms, Kaylee’s back suddenly arches as she seizes, having pushed herself to the edge of her ability, blood oozing from both nostrils of her nose.

In the Entity’s mind, each black withering snake shrieks and screams. A symphony of death knells of her own making. Through it all a single command-laden suggestion bubbles to the forefront of the chaos, whispering in the Entity’s ear.


For all that he can't do as he focus on keeping the waterlogged trio afloat, Luther also watches helplessly at the scene happening aboard the Clipper. But more than that, the energy swirling around has caught him in a wide-eyed stare. The man's uncomfortable grunt is lost to howling wind, to churning waves in both water and invisible forces that strike him. Locked arms draw Kaylee and Von closer, almost crushingly so as he feels the surge of energies coursing like being in the middle of a developing anvilhead cloud.

He coughs, struggling to hold on while witnessing Eve caught in the Entity's grasp, seeing Kimberly fleeing, leaping impossibly from one boat to the next. He watches as Adam ignominiously falls apart in a scream of red that disappears into the ever-growing dark.

And his heart drops as the Entity turns so coldly towards the next target. Kimberly?! No, no…

His voicelessness translates into Kaylee's keening screech of defiance. Luther winces. But, it's enough to snap him out of his fugue. As Kaylee seizes up he clutches her closer, a hand cradling her skull tight to his jaw. The next look to Silas' boat sparks an idea born of desperation.

Cluthing both Kaylee and Von tightly to him, Luther pushes against throbbing, pulsing in his head and "aims" for the open deck of the approaching boat. "Hang on," he whispers tightly, despite both his wards not necessarily understanding what he's about to do. With a hard kick, he thrusts upwards and wills an explosive burst beneath him, pouring all of the gathered power he has to launch them as if the crumpled submarine sinking below the waves had fired its last shot and sent the trio breaching out of the black waters.

It's the instant when the girl goes after Eve that Silas's hesitation starts to slip away. If there's one thing that Silas has stood by since the day the Flood came, it's this: there's everyone else, and there's crew. Crew is family. You guard your crew's safety with your life, and they guard yours with theirs. That's how it is. And now this girl is a threat to his crew. His hand, ever so stealthily, creeps over and picks up Kimbo's gun.

He's glad that Kimbo had gotten out of there — one crew member off the field, maybe two more to be saved. What Golden Eyes does to Adam is an absolute horror, but that horror feels far away, eclipsed by grim purpose. And… whatever else you might say about the Old Man — whatever else Adam Monroe may have done — there is this to be said for him, now: he died fighting.

Then the boat engine starts. Shit, too soon! Golden Eyes turns and looks at Kimberly, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, starts to raise a hand. And in that moment, Silas slips beyond horror and hesitation to that cold, dark place at the bottom of the night, where the only things left are actions…

…and consequences.

So this is how it's going to be, he has time to think, his heart heavy. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. His only consolation in what he has to do is that if he does his job right, she won't feel it at all.

Then he moves.

One step to the side, the gun rising as he moves, and he's behind her, pistol pointing at the back of that mop of reddish-brown hair. Pistols aren't his best weapon, but at this range he'd have a hard time missing. Two shots ring out, one after the other. No coins of gold or silver on the eyes to pay for passage across the Styx this time; no, this time payment is rendered direct, in lead.

Being slammed with the electromagnetic has Eve choking on her knees and then literally choking by the Entity's power. Pale legs kick out wildly to no avail and her glowing eyes shine in utter terror. Eve isn't the focus and that's made clear when Adam is again sought after the spirit inhabiting Sibyl Black's body.

Eve lays gasping for breath on the cabin floor, curled up on herself as her vision swims. Kaylee's scream echoes out and the pale woman flinches. Her body hurts all over but lucky for her she's been living with constant pain since the transformation though this sensation of beinglocked out from her ability was a new one and frustratingly inconvenient, slowly the dark haired woman lifts her head and stares at the girl and Adam. The moment before he simply unravels Eve looks at him and shakes her head, it wasn't supposed to be like this, "Bye… you cheap bastard," The former seer doesn't look away but she rolls back and forth on the floor with a shocked expression on her face. One down. One former friend, frenemy, psycho, father, dick, soldier.

As the Entity begins to focus on Kimberly and the boat, amber irises widen and she shakes her head trying to climb to her feet. "Not.. no no no no, what are you doing, she's innocent! She's-" Eve stops talking as she sees Silas in motion and she shrinks back and crouches with her hands on her head.

"One…Two… buckle your shoes…" For better or for worse something was about to happen, "Three… Four… knock at the door." Sang through quiet sobs, Eve clings to her knees and almost closes her eyes, squinting through thick eyelashes.


Two Years Earlier

In a Dream

The night has been cold and Cat’s Cradle is dark. The hour’s late as the bar had closed a little bit ago. Down the steps into the Oracle Room the haze is heavy and Eve Mas sits cross legged on one of the many comfortable pillows, her pale skin illuminated by the flames of the fireplace in the corner.

In front of her sits a recent sketch of a confusing dream of a triangle.. a mysterious one. She didn't know what it meant and she sought to gain more insight. Rocking back and forth she swings her long raven mane to and fro it frames her face, “Take the plunge,” she echoes the whispers she hears before she delves into the world of her dreams and visions.

“Follow the riddle.”

Light gray eyes become unfocused and they fade slowly to that milky white, mouth hangs open as she begins to fall backwards onto the large pillow behind her.

Through the pillow, like the surface of water, sinking deep below its surface as bubbles of air trail up from her mouth and nose. The bubbles twist, distort, shimmer with rainbow iridescence until there is no more light and there is nothing left for them to reflect. Eve falls silently into suffocating darkness.

I can see

A voice whispers in the dark, Eve’s voice.

Eye to Eye

It draws closer, her whispering cadence.

I can see

Somewhere in that moment, Eve stopped falling, now suspended like a fly in ointment.

Eye to Eye

In the darkness, a pair of burning orange rings come into view. Irises that glow like molten steel, emerging from the darkness into an indiscernible downcast light like the lamp of an interrogation room.

I can see

It's Eve. Bare feet move across a solid but also watery surface, ripples spreading out from each footfall but never sinking below. She is nude, hair long and wild, eyes of golden fire with overly wide and infinitely dark pupils.

Eye to Eye

At the center of Eve’s chest, over her sternum, a black mark blotches into view like a swiftly forming bruise. Soon, it's lines take sharp and well-defined shape. She's seen the symbol a thousand times before. Hiro’s sword, Niki’s tattoo, the Haitian’s necklace. Half of a helix.

I can see

This Eve raises one hand, covered in thick and bright red blood, brushing it down her face from brow to chin, then neck to collar. Rivulets of red roll down pale skin, over the symbol, drip down into the abyss below.

I can see

Wherever the blood touches her skin, it turns black and veiny. It spreads like an infection, dark and sick under her skin. The infinitely dark water below her books where each droplet touches. Veins of radiant golden light spread from those points, like roots of a great tree branching out into myriad forks of light.

Eye to Eye

A light appears over Eve’s head, in the way halos are depicted behind the heads of angels in Renaissance art. It is a triangle of blue-white light crackling with static and horizontal scan lines like an old cathode ray tube television. Veins of white light extend out from that too, forking branches of static and white noise.

I can see

That Eve turns, facing the triangle, reaching up to smear one bloodied hand over it like it was glass. The surface squeaks with the touch, then she balls a hand into a fist and slams against the triangle.

Let me in

Again, harder this time.

Let me in

Harder once more, enough that the glass cracks and small chips are embedded into the side of her palm.

Let me in

The glass cracks deeper, and a noise escapes from the fissures like wind whistling through a keyhole. Eve recognizes the song, recognizes Else Kjelstrom’s voice singing La Mer to an ocean’s crashing waves.

Let me in

There's an audible {click} like that of an old television dial turning, and the black void changes entirely. Eve now stands under a cloudy, gray sky on the south end of Roosevelt Island where the old turn of the century plague hospital stands. Ivy crawls up its surface, and crows are perched on it's broken walls, cawing loudly. There are bones scattered around the walls of the hospital, and a young Eileen Ruskin stands at the center of them where Eve once was, pounding on the triangle of glass and light.

Let me in

There's an audible {click} like that of an old television dial turning, and the cloudy landscape of Roosevelt Island changes in a pop of {static} to the ruins of Midtown Manhattan, bomb-gutted buildings slouched against one-another, except every surface is crawling with vegetation. Buildings are covered in moss and creeping vines. Flowers grow up from the broken concrete. Richard Ray — or is it Cardinal — has replaced Eileen, pounding his bloody first against the triangle. There are thirty-six dead children fanned out in a circle around him, covered in blood.

Let me in

There's an audible {click} like that of an old television dial turning, and the verdant ruins disappear in a pop of {static} to a pristine cityscape surrounded by high, concrete walls. The sky is a beige shade and wispy clouds streak through the nuclear winter. Red flags bearing the seal of the Department of Evolved Affairs flap in the wind, and Tamara Brooks replaces Richard, her bloody hand pounding on the triangle of light with intensity as horrific cries of machines echo in the distance.

Let me in

There's an audible {click} like that of an old television dial turning, and the walled city disappears in a flash of {static} to an infinite expanse of ocean, from which rises the rusted frame of an old radio tower lined with satellite dishes and slowly flashing red lights. Sea birds circle it's upper reaches. Odessa Price replaces Tamara, standing atop the surface of the water, pounding her fist against the triangle of light.

Let me in

There's an audible {click} like that of an old television dial turning, and the ocean disappears in a flash of {static} to the Manhattan Exclusion Zone, as viewed from the rooftop of the Deveaux Building. A dusting of snow covers the ruined cityscape, and Mateo Ruiz replaces Odessa Price. The triangle of light is gone, replaced instead by a swirling ring of infinite darkness surrounded by electricity.

Let me in

Wordlessly, Mateo steps into the ring, and is consumed by the darkness.

Let me out

Eve startles to waking, wind rushing through her hair and the noise of the city all around her. She stands on the edge of the roof of her building, nothing to hold her or keep her from —

Her foot slips.

Hands claw at the air, and Eve plummets from the roof, body twisting and an involuntary scream rising up from the back of her throat. She impacts the pavement, back and shoulder breaking from the impact, skill fracturing, vision blurring. She didn't slip, Barbara Zimmerman is standing where she was on the roof. She was pushed.

To her death.

Eve jolts awake again, surrounded by broken glass. A twisted mirror frame lays at her side, cuts on her hands and arms, blood staining what was once a wall-mounted bathroom mirror that has been smashed to pieces.

Blood is smeared across the concrete floor.

In the shape of a half helix.

Present Day


The Entity lets out a howl, her gold eyes glowing as a shockwave of rainbow light spills out from her body. A moment of synchronicity with the Entity, a moment of total overlap, and in that moment Kaylee Thatcher feels connected with something that has been missing for so long. In the back of her mind there is a sibilant hiss, a coiling rasp that whispers into the back of her mind. It is as though she is reconnected with a part of herself that has been missing since the Looking Glass tore itself open.

One Year Earlier

In a Dream

Deciding to take a leap of fate, Kaylee decides to confide in the woman a little. “Do you believe in fate, Ms. Nisatta?”

Her gaze moves to where the sword once sat, but clearly lost in thought. “With precogs and probability manipulators more prominent in the world, if feels more like we are at the mercy of them. And just when you think that something was fated or destined, you find out that it might not be.” She trails off, looking up at the mask, her expression turning a touch wistful.. Only to turn into a barely contained grimace. “I believe in fate; but sometimes, it feels like such a foreign concept and when my own father was a probability manipulator.” A sigh escapes her. “It’s hard to know what is fate… and what has been manipulated.”

“There is no fate,” is Kam’s resolute answer, disregarding the remainder of Kaylee’s conversation. She circles the tall glass case holding Kensei’s armor, coming up to sidle up on Kaylee’s other side. “There are only the machinations of people who have a long enough reach and perspective to push you where you needed to be.” Then, she takes a step away from Kaylee, walking a few paces before turning around, keeping that ancient scroll in its case at her back.

“That isn’t to say there isn’t free will,” Kam suggests with an include of her head to the side, brows furrowed. “But,” her dark eyes flick back up to Kaylee, “not everyone has the same strength of will.” There is a sinking feeling in the pit of Kaylee’s stomach as something slithers out from behind Kam, up over her shoulder climbs an ink black snake of gut-wrenching familiar countenance. It coils down one of Kam’s arms as she raises it, and rests its head in the palm of her hand.

“Welcome home, child.” Kam murmurs in a sibilant tone, her dark eyes partway lidded by red-painted lids.

When the other woman starts moving, Kaylee’s eyes snaps from the mask to follow her. Hands half tuck into jean pockets, trying to seem relaxed even though she was far from it. Though she herself doesn’t move to follow those movements, only those eyes… shifting to look at Kam’s reflection when she needs too. There is a wariness, but also a curiosity as she listens. Kam was making sense, but only because her own life was so manipulated by Edward Ray.

Or was it?

Kaylee turns when Kam steps away, not really feeling comfortable enough to keep her back to the woman. It makes sense why, when she catches that first flash of glittering scales and the familiarity hits her… Her stomach gives a painful twist, remembering Joseph’s vision and the snake wound around Adam’s arm. Eyes widen and breath catches. Instinct has a hand going to her throat where she would normally find the same glittering scales wraps around her neck, but finds it empty.

What was going on?

It wasn’t registering what she was seeing and she feels a tremble start as her back tenses. “I-I,” she tries to speak, but she finds herself staring at the snake. “H-home?” Kaylee whispers in confusion, looking back at that dark hooded gaze, brows furrowing. “I… I don’t understand.” There is a step taken back; but, of course the case at her back prevents her from going any further.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Kam takes a slow step forward, eyes shifting from brown to gold, brows furrowing and lips pursed. “There is no fate,” As Kam’s eyes change, so too do the serpent’s, shifting to spheres of glowing gold, like hot metal pulled from a raging fire, “just manipulation.”

The acting President of Yamagato Industries comes to stop within arm’s reach of Kaylee, gold eyes shimmering softly. “A long time ago, I was burdened with power and purpose. A long time ago, someone stole that from me, and left me a shell. But one day… I saw an eclipse, and my blood sang to me a story with words I did not even know existed.” Eyes halfway lidded, Kam tilts her chin up and regards Kaylee through the fringe of dark lashes. “I remembered what I was host to, what purpose I served, and my every waking moment has been to get back what was taken from me.”

The air around Kam vibrates with a sonorous hum, a low, bass-filled tremor. “Where do you think your father’s power came from?” Kam asks in a hushed exhalation. “Whose voice do you think whispered in the back of your mind, pushing you. Guiding you.

Those gold eyes narrow, and Kam lifts the serpent up to Kaylee’s face. “I am the serpent in the garden,” she says with honeyed tone, “and I will see the face of God again.”

Her head thumps softly against the case as she tries to get away from the snake. The moment that become aware of it, wound around the necks of her and her husband… Seeing it out in the world…. wrapped around Kam’s arm… There was something frightening about that. “All these years I thought I was going crazy… thought I—” Kaylee lets out a slow shaky breath as her world again in her life seems to upend itself. “Why?

Then almost as if something click, something connects the dots. “The face of- “ Kaylee’s blinks and her focus goes from the snake to the woman. “So everything that Edward had my brother doing? That was you?” She doesn’t flinch away from those golden eyes, even if she can’t read the woman’s mind, she can guess. “To eventually, build the Looking Glass? That is one heck of a long game.” But Kaylee knows she had the time if everything she’s seen has anything to say about.

“But… Why me? You had Richard, he has always blindly followed my father,” Kaylee’s head shakes slowly, a nervous look flicked down to the snake again. A part of her wants to reach for it, it’s been apart of her for so very long. It felt a little like losing a part of herself. A part of her knew she should be running, but curiosity is why she was still here… and why she asks, “Why did I need guiding?”

“Not everything. Not all things. It wasn't me, so to speak.” Kam dithers, her eyes narrowing. “You wouldn't understand, can't understand. Because you, like I, can't see far enough. We don't have the perspective that a higher power does. We exist here, in the moment, in this second and the second that follow.”

They exist outside of time, outside of space. What is time, to them?” Kam raises one brow, spreading her hands and carrying the snake with one. “Not a line, surely. More… a web.” Looking to the armor of Adam Monroe’s past life, Kam looks momentarily wistful, then settles back on Kaylee.

“Everyone is connected. Every choice impacts someone else. To come here, to stay there, who you love, who you leave behind. It creates a maze of forking paths representing our choices in life. Those inside the maze can only navigate the passages they can see. But from above…” Kam smiles softly, widely, “the maze becomes a pattern of lines.”

Kam steps one pace closer, now near enough for Kaylee to feel the woman’s body heat and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. “I was given a gift, Kaylee. We all were. And we…” She begins to reach out toward Kaylee’s brow with her unburdened hand, “are— ”

There's a look in Kam’s eyes, a momentary glimpse of uncertainty, or opaque confusion. The snake turns to her, and then flickers away like an illusion made of smoke and nightmares. Kam’s gold eyes flicker, turn brown, and there is a look in them not of confidence and strength but of fragility and uncertainty.

“Kaylee— ” Kam whispers hoarsely, “run!

Present Day


The Entity’s scream splits into two voices, one the high-pitched shriek of Sibyl Black, the other a distorted and sonorous roar that reverberates through the air as though coming from something a hundred times her size. A wave of rainbow-colored light erupts from the Entity, explodes outward from her body as she brings her hands up to her head. The sky parts, clouds spin outward and away from her, revealing a curtain of jade-colored light tipped with hues of pink that shines down from above.

The aurora.

A gunshot rings out in that same moment, and as Silas Mackenzie pulls that trigger, the bullet passes through that shimmering field of rainbow-hued light and passes through Sibyl Black’s skull at her right temple. The bullet exits out the back of her head in a shower of bone, brain, and blood with a tuft of hair included with it. The gold lights in Sibyl’s eyes go out like a candle blown out in the wind, legs instantly buckling as she collapses to the deck of the ship.

The wave of rainbow-colored light explodes in a sphere out from the ship, passing harmlessly through Eve, Kaylee, Luther, and Kimberly. But when the wave hits Silas

he explodes.

Silas Mackenzie is torn apart in a swirling haze of multicolored light and an echoing scream. His clothes and his gun hit the ground as though the man wearing them simply ceased to exist. Twisting fireflies of light wind out and away from his body before disappearing as well.

Kimberly screams from the deck of the ship, knuckle white and grip anchored around the wheel. Her cry becomes one of mournful and horrified agony as she watches this moment in time, as she watches Silas reduced to nothing but light and sound and nothing. Her cry becomes a ragged sob. “Eve!” She calls out, unable to see Eve from the angle of the ragged deck of the ship that remains behind.


Slowly, Eve’s hand comes up over the side of the ship. She pulls herself up, shakily, dark hair matted to her face by the rainwater. As she pulls herself up to stand, Kimberly claps a hand over her mouth. For a moment, Luther and Kaylee think it is an expression of relief. Eve is fine. But it is not.

Eve is not.


Eve is gone.

Burning gold eyes stare out from Eve’s face, and while that face is familiar the posture she carries herself with and the expression she wears is not. Kaylee can feel it in the back of her mind, a sibilant hissing, a coiling of scales and unblinking gold eyes eyes. The Entity raises one hand, and her expression is nothing but fury.


A wave of roaring flame extends out from the Entity, destroying what remains of the Clipper. The wall burns with a shocking intensity, reflected bright in Luther’s eyes. Like the wall of flame he survived that day in Midtown Manhattan.

He sucks in one breath—

The explosion could be seen for miles.

But there is no one to see it.

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