Chapter 101 (2 of 2) Hurdles of Heracleion

“But Officer Whitlock, this was the agreement made between us and Lucille Goldcroft if you were to become involved in these operations-”

“Shut up! I’ve had it! Don’t mention anymore ‘Lucille Goldcroft’ to me again or else you’ll be dead before you even get to see this fabled doomsday!”

“Officer-”

The hard metal door was slammed in the face of Antoine Sutherburg, warping in its frame at the force of the impact. Mathew’s expression was ice cold as he marched away from the room where Antoine had attempted to pressure him into a secrecy contract. Not feeling the slightest bit of guilt of leaving Rachel in there with her stubborn superior, he stormed past the scientists watching him with quizzical eyes, coming face to face with the dark glass windows of the sea floor facility.

Destructive thoughts threatened to overwhelm his self-control as he glared at the abyssal depths outside.

They wouldn’t care if I smashed one window, right? Just a teensy little hole. A single punch.

His tense hands curled into fists... then all of a sudden they sagged by his side, all his energy drained.

Who am I kidding? The pressure would overwhelm us all in an instant. I’m not ‘Antoine Sutherburg’ smart but I’m at least not that dumb.

Dragging his feet, he flopped onto the nearest couch and looked at the roof with exhaustion.

If this is what that ‘Jeremy’ guy saw then I guess I can get why he cracked like that.

His eyes closed but he could still see those vivid images of those things burned into his mind. He quickly opened them just as his watch vibrated. A glance down told him who had sent him a message.

‘I’ll keep Sutherburg occupied for a few days. He broke protocol to ask you to sign the contract so soon anyway.’ Guess I owe Rachel one. But we have connection to the Network here?

He checked his settings, upbeat at the prospect of watching an esper sport, then sighed.

Figures. It’s a local Network only.

But... that discovery didn’t hold up when some good ol’ fashioned rock started playing from his watch, attracting eyes from anyone near him. He hit the pick-up button on reflex, belatedly realising that the person who called him shouldn’t have been capable of contacting him.

The unshaved face of one of his men came into view. “Hey, Lock.”

“Junko.” He surveyed the room with a frown before lowering the screen, trying to hide it from view. “What in hades do you think you’re doing? You know how rigid the World Gov is about communications in their domain, did the last time teach you nothing? Though you did get it to work this time, I guess…”

“Lock, I wouldn’t have done this if it weren’t for-”

“Is he on? Move aside, Junko.”

‘Junko’, also known as Jeffery Fischer, the technology wizard of his forces, was shoved off cam and the ugly mug of a gruff, burly man entered the view screen.

“Locky, when are you going to tell those government scrubs that they’d better open these damn doors or else my fist will be coming out from between their eyes!?”

“Gavin, I don’t even know where you are yet.”

“Which is why I told Gav to let me do the talking, but... never mind.” The frustrated face of Jeffery slipped back into view at the corner of the window. “I put together an ad-hoc depth detector module for my holowatch and-”

“Was that what you were making while the special ops had me in a headlock-”

“Ahem! And its readings are giving off an insane number. 6.5-ish miles or more below sea level. You know anything ‘bout that, Chief?”

“Uhhhhh.....” Mathew glanced at the foggy deep water outside, a dull orange glow illuminating rubbery tubular creatures clinging to thermal vent sides like leeches on human skin. “How deep is the Mariana Trench again?”

“36000 ft or- shoot.” Jeffery looked at Gavin, the gruff guy who was watching their vaguely technical conversation with a look of consternation... or constipation. Mathew never knew which. “Don’t go busting up anymore doors, alright? One little crack and we’ll end up like a tin can in a hydraulic press.”

“Anymore? You know what, never mind. Let’s work out the more important stuff.” Mathew stood up and paced along the window, growing very suspicious about under what terms he had really been brought to Sector Null for. “Firstly, is it just you two? Secondly, you seem to know I’m down here with you? Were you told you’d meet up with me or something?”

“Yeah, but we figured you wanted us down here. Because we got the message from Heracleion that we were needed, but zero info. And no, all the A team is here. Liwei is right there-” The view panned to show a long-haired Chinese man with his hair in a ponytail, snoring as he slept against the wall, a thick sword on his lap, “And Aless has free roam. Apparently, she has a cousin down here who vouched for her? I think she’s just trying to find the closest free food, honestly.”

“It would be free for her, wouldn’t it, with that politician mom of hers,” Mathew muttered. He sighed and swept back the hair from his eyes. “And Komarov?”

“Decontamination chamber. Looks like he snuck in one of his ‘malyshka’ on the way in. They’re currently giving him a full-body purge to make sure he hasn’t secretly got anymore of the blighters on him.”

One of the rare few people in the world who could ‘tame’ monsters in any sense of the word, yet the guy was also one of the most ignorant people alive when it came to social expectations such as not stowing away a potentially deadly monster when visiting a top-security facility.

“Sounds about right.” He stopped pacing, a plan of action in mind. “Well, this place ain’t that big compared to Heracleion. I’m sure if I bust you lot out they can’t get too mad. It seems like Lucille’s got control over this place anyhow-”

“Huh? Lucille?”

“You don’t know yet? Eh, you’ll learn. Junko, you’ve triangulated my position in this abyss prison already, haven’t you? Point me to you guys.” Mathew began walking before he even got a response.

“What about Komarov?”

“…he might live. Possibly. Either way, forget him.”

…

This the spot?

Mathew found the unmarked door in the inner room area, taking in its flimsy appearance. As flimsy as solid steel could be, at least.

Who installed this rubbish? Makes my job easier though. Not even a key pad.

He backed up a little, sparing a look around to see if there were witnesses, then charged at the door. Forgoing all attempts at subtly he let out a war cry and leapt up, slamming his legs into the door. It crumpled like tin foil and he stood proudly in the doorway. “Piece of cake.”

He was only too late to see the frantic gestures of his soldiers before a dry voice was heard behind him.

“And this is why I hate muscle brained soldiers.”

Search "NovelPhoenix" plus the story's title to find the original; this copy was posted without permission.

Mathew spun to see Rachel there, judging him behind her thick glasses. “You’ve made one big mistake here, Whitlock.”

“Ha. I’ve made worse on the field, and they haven’t gotten me killed yet,” he retorted.

“The door, Whitlock! Look!” She threw her hands out towards the sad remains of the steel, eyes wide. “It was unlocked!”

His eyes drifted to the remains of metal barrier, and lingered on the doorknob. Instead of admitting his fault, Mathew decided to blame his subordinates.

“Why didn’t you test the door?” he demanded, scowling at Jeffery and Gavin as Liwei approached the doorway, still yawning.

“Liwei told me it was locked and he couldn’t open it,” Gavin muttered sheepishly.

“Huh?” Liwei perked up when he heard someone accusing him. “What? No, you asked me if we could get it open, to which I replied no because this is a government institute.”

“Enough.” Rachel glared at them over her clipboard until they fell silent in submission. She let out a drained sigh. “Come with me. I need to speak to you of the reason why you’re in this facility.”

…

An hour later, they were all gathered around a flat countertop in a dark room, far from the other researchers. The A team had been given the mandatory ‘Lucille’ run down and were looking mighty confused. Above the table was a projected raised landscape, mottled and distorted by large craters. It was spotted with red dots of varied sizes.

The thick doors opened as a blonde-haired man was escorted in, each arm held firmly in the grip of two specialist guards they sat him down on a chair at the table and slowly backed away, eagle eyes trained on him.

“Ahh, hello chief!” the man said in a thick Slavic accent, spreading his hands. “Was wondering when you would turn up. Is dark down here, no?”

“Yeah, sure.” Mathew frowned at Rachel who stood at the end of the table. “So. It wasn’t just me then.”

“We were advised to tell you and we were planning to, but yes, you are all necessary for reasons I will explain. But first….” She swept a hand over the display and the landscape quickly sped past, crossing mountain ranges, valleys and oceans before it landed on one deep jagged line, a glowing green dot right in the centre.

Rachel gestured to the display and it grew in size, showing the deep blue chasm that lay within. She pointed at the much larger dot. “This is where we are.”

Then she pushed a button on the side of the table, and the projection shrunk to show the globe. Hundreds of golden dots sprawled across the world at random. “And these are all the last locations our ‘Stolen’ were at before they were summoned.”

“Okayyy,” he slowly replied, feeling impatient.

“Now, we took their last-known global positions in full 3D space, aligned them to Earth’s curvature, and then flattened them onto a common projection. This is what we got,” she stated, pointing as the hologram did exactly as she said.

“Looks like… a star,” Jeffery Fischer commented. “Spherical coordinates?”

“Yes. This isn’t our doing. And if we layer this to-scale image over the relative positions of the 35 S-Ranked and 5 SS-Ranked Rifts... ” The projection overlapped the pattern, showing a perfect match. “We get this exact same shape... to an impossible degree.”

Mathew was tapping his foot on the ground by now. “And so?”

Rachel Carlson tapped something on her watch, and then they all looked as thin lines began to be drawn across the star, from one point to another. The simulation sped up until finally, all points had been connected to their opposites, and a glowing violet circle appeared in the centre of the star. “Our models converge here.” The violet circle pulsed. “If we’re right, the first X-grade Rift will erupt in this spot.”

First, Mathew took note of the location.

The Fringes...smack dab in the centre of Lake Superior.

Second, he turned to Rachel. “That’s absolutely bogus.”

“Incorrect.” She fixed a steely gaze on them. “It is not ‘bogus’. We have confirmed that the provided formulae used to calculate the location of ‘epicentre’ Rifts is valid, and as said to us, the energy network connecting all Rifts does suggest the emergence of an unprecedentedly strong Rift in the centre of energy convergence.”

“But you’ve just drawn lines across a shape and proclaimed that’s where a Rift will form! I could do that!” Mathew argued, feeling more angry than confused. “You expect me to believe that coincidently the shape made by the Stolen hints at some mega Rift forming, above Lake Superior no less?!”

“What about this situation implies anything here is coincidental, Whitlock?!” Rachel barked, her irritation taking them aback. “I never claimed this is a coincidence, nor would I have ever even considered the possibility if it weren’t for the fact that Lucille Goldcroft wanted us to prepare for the very first X-Ranked Rift!”

They all went silent, eyes wide.

“...we don’t have an SSS-ranked Rift yet,” Jeffery eventually replied.

“Yes.” Rachel frowned and looked at the hologram. “That is because based on the current energy readings and the expected rate of growth, this Rift will pose a threat level vastly superior to any predicted special grade Rifts... and Lucille Goldcroft confirmed that only once this Rift has been conquered that its energy will stabilise to its ‘usual’ difficulty level of SSS-rank.”

“Ha.” Gavin grunted, sitting down in a rotating desk chair with a thud as it gently rolled back. “Sounds like you Gov lots are putting a ton of stock into what Lucille has to say... when she’s not even here to say it.”

“Exactly what has made you so believing of this far-fetched ‘System’ and ‘Tower’ that the entire World Government would expend countless resources planning for some rumoured apocalypse?” Liwei added, eyes narrowed as he watched the projection slowly rotate.

“I for one believe that Heracleion wouldn’t joke about a Rift of this magnitude. Rifts are threats to be taken seriously,” Mathew stated, arms crossed. His brown eyes studied Rachel with no expression. “But my soldiers have a point. Lucille has no credibility to her name, and not once have you suggested it’s Marvin Goldcroft orchestrating this.”

The Assistant Head Researcher of Heracleion took a deep breath. “I can’t fault any of your points. Yes, we seem mad. Maybe we are mad. Possibly, we’re being subjected to an impossibly strong enemy’s mass hypnosis or hallucination attack. Maybe Lucille Goldcroft is dead along with all the others. But the Prophecy Regulation Bureau has given their unanimous support of Lucille Goldcroft and the future she claims will occur.”

Prophecy Regulation Bureau? The organisation in charge of all ‘fixed’ predestinator abilities?

A knock on the door shocked them out of the stupor they had fallen into. The door cracked open as a short woman with light blue eyes and pale blonde hair entered. She had a small stature, short hair in a pony tail, and wore a puffy winter jacket. “I’ve found some lunch but... did you mention the Prophecy Regulation Bureau? Then I might have something to say here.”

“...right, Aless.” Mathew nodded. “You were under their jurisdiction for a couple of years before your ability was reassigned.”

“Yeah, that debacle.” She walked up to the hologram bench and sat on the edge of it. “Pre-Ordinate abilities can see the past, future, or present in some form, but only the ‘future’ categories mean anything to the Bureau. Especially if you’re a ‘true’ seer, one who can see a future that will come true regardless of actions leading to it.” She studied her nails. “Then some Edictional abilities can fix the outcome of the future. In both scenarios, you’re under a strict geas to never abuse your abilities and only use them after submitting an application to the Bureau. Did you say the Bureau announced complete support of Lucy’s ‘prediction’?”

Rachel nodded, eyes narrowed at the woman.

“Well then.” Aless redirected her attention to the table. “Both sides of the Bureau must’ve noticed something about Lucille. Both sides. That she had changed a fixed future, and that every prophet predicts her expressed future.” She looked directly at Mathew. “Chief, this ultimatum means that out of all the futures that could and will occur... not one refutes Lucille’s words.”

He rubbed his head, feeling a migraine coming on. “...dammit. There’s no going back now I know this. I was hoping for some out – some way I could maintain my disbelief so emotions wouldn’t get involved. Dimensions? Mythical beasts? Empires the size of universes?” He laughed. “This isn’t the Earth I know anymore.”

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by him.

“No, forget it.” He marched up to her. “I’m a man of action, and the only way to prepare myself is to do something about it. What do you need? Experience? My immunity? I’ll do it, if only so I can say that when it all comes crashing down, I’ve done all I can.”

The researcher cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “An appropriate response. I’m glad you came around so quickly.” She turned to the hologram and zoomed in on the violet sphere indicative of the Rift’s location above Lake Superior. “All of your ‘A Team’ are to be involved in the preparation and eventual conquest of this Rift.”

Rachel stepped away to lead them to a large display screen, images flashing on it. “Lucille gave us comprehensive information as to why she has chosen your group as our Plan A, and with the unconditional support of the Prophecy Regulation Bureau, we are as prepared as possible to undertake this endeavour. The entire Sector Null is for the prevention of this global catastrophe and analysis of the X-ranked Rift’s convergence patterns.” Her firm gaze lingered on them all. “We will use all methods at our disposal to strengthen you for this Rift. Our ultimate goal? For Mathew Whitlock’s A Team to conquer the first X-ranked Rift in the world.”

“Fringe Special Forces Chief Officer Mathew Whitlock accepts this mission,” Mathew replied, saluting her. One by one, the others copied him. “What is our first directive?”

“To head to Sector 0.5 in Antarctica, where you will defeat the deadliest Rift to exist yet – The Glacial Chasm of Solitude.”

“...and Whitlock accepted the mission. That marks the end of my report.”

Very well, Stephen Lawrence. That will be all.

“O-oh, okay. I, uh, hope everything is going well in your... realm.”

The Simulacrum connection was cut and Lucille let out a drained sigh, leaning heavily against the workbench. A mess of metallic parts and electrical wires sprawled out around her, but her eyes were only focused on the casket in front of her, its two scales hanging in the balance for what she will bestow on it.

One crucial element of my revenge is now in motion. I cannot let the Hero conquer the Forsaken Sea Temple once more.

I’m placing my bets on Mathew this time. Using a ‘rival’ instead of a true enemy is one of the few ways I can counteract Deus Ex Machina’s hostility.

Then it will all be on the Hero’s inferiority complex to do the heavy lifting. But by then, Earth will already have its ‘Hero’.

Her eyes strayed to the remains of her last experiment with her recent Primary Skill, Indefinite Design, then she spun away from it.

This time too. I need to engineer myself a supply line of higher purity mundane metals for my projects, but I need to brute force it with my money unless I prove its profitability... another item to add to the agenda. I’ll speak with Vincent about this when...

She paused as a question occurred to her.

When was the last occasion I sat down with Vincent for any noticeable length of time?

It had to have been three weeks ago, at the very least. She shook her head.

Oh well. I’ll get around to it. Now, where was I with addressing Jacques’ concerns about Olden’s sabotage of his businesses...

...

It wasn’t until another three hours had passed that Lucille emerged from the spare room she had claimed as her own, sometime past eleven at night. She took note of Vincent standing in a nearby corridor and gave him a nod in greeting, but other than that, she left, delving tirelessly into another self-imposed duty of hers.

Vincent, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, frowned as he saw her ignore him again. “She’s been like this for weeks now. She didn’t even comment on the fact that I hadn’t gone home yet. Scytale, can you explain what’s happening to me?”

Scytale, standing beside Vincent with a strange look on his face, glanced at the door she had come from. “It isn’t entirely unusualfor her to become like this-”

“What is ‘this’?” Vincent interrupted with dry sarcasm, waving his hands vaguely.

“Um... hyper fixation, or obsession, or whatever you want to call it.” Scytale looked sheepish. “Personally I’d argue that she’s distracting herself by making more work for herself just so she avoids dwelling on the real issue, but the symptoms of it are the same either way I guess.”

“Then what is the real issue?” Vincent pushed.

“...mostly what she experienced on the plane shard last year. About ‘End’, specifically,” Scytale clarified. “She’s expecting the derailment of a lot of her plans if they become any larger a variable than they are now, and the stress is getting to her. Problem is, she never tries to resolve this or anything because her anti-social behaviour never impacts her ability to work so... she stays stuck like this for a while.”

“...that’s a much better explanation than I was expecting from you.”

“I’ve just seen this a lot. Usually it’s indistinguishable from when she’s just super passionate about a project,” Scytale replied. “She didn’t really hang out with people in the past timeline, so there was nobody to notice something was wrong. I’ve learnt to not bother her when she’s like this. She doesn’t respond well to any attempts to ‘make her feel better’... although that might just be when it comes to me.”

Scytale hesitated. “Well... alright, if I’m being truthful, it is definitely because it’s me.”

Vincent huffed. “Yet as her aide, I can’t very well just ‘not bother’ her. How long does this last?”

“Ummm...” Scytale thought about it. “A decade if you’re lucky, most likely a century. Under time dilation of course.”

“Wha- a century? And what time dilation do you think we have at the Commission? The soul crushing eternity that comes with work?” Vincent scowled and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to ‘put up’ with her ill temper right now. Not... when I- we need her... her insight or...” He went quiet. “Her ability to act, maybe. I don’t know what to call it. Everyone on the top floor of the Commission is honestly feeling a little out of sorts without her wit and plans stirring things up all the time.”

They both fell silent, before Vincent eventually spoke again. “How do we fix it?”

“Easy. She needs a break.” Scytale turned around and narrowed his eyes at the direction she left in. “Only difficulty is dragging her away from work long enough to be a break,” he added after a beat. “Last time that happened resulted in a little bit of collateral damage so we’ll have to be creative.”