[Interim Two] Reprise

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Tundra
Bonfire Pit

OSC-01 raised her head as the questions came in, her head ticking to the side as Juryrig spoke remotely through the stream. The Overseer never stopped the careful picking of her wired innards, keeping an eye on the group as they recollected. Rhea's question had brought up some rather strained memories as the machine froze for a mechanical beat. "The remnants of Arcadia have proven themselves like roaches. With a control expanse that wide, strands have cropped up over the years. Nothing large enough to take back what was lost, but enough to cause."

The Overseer paused. "Collateral damage, over the years."

The moment passed as the robot shared nothing of what was going through their mind. Instead, they refocused on Juryrigs end of the question. "The Schism itself caused a massive loss of life and land, among other things. Most of what was engulfed in that time was thought to never return- but there have been exceptions in my lifespan. Sometimes, a lost person or place would make it out of the Great Nothing unscathed, or as close as you could call it. Plots of land that once belonged in the Nepherian homeland, spliced elsewhere with fury. They were few and far between, of course, but New Incipere's first leader was no exception."

The Captain looked at the ground beneath her, pondering on that phrase for a moment.

The Overseer nodded at Keith, giving him his due answer in turn. "Someone you may learn about, if you find yourself deserving."

Finally to the difficult question, to which the Overseer mumbled something rather quietly. "Figured the Captain would have asked that too." The robot recollected herself. "It will take more than that ship, that much is certain. Arcadia doesn't exist in a place where we can fly, we'll need to burrow through that paradoxical space itself, the Great Nothing. But even then, it may not be enough. The doorway to Arcadia was only open for a short time after their reign ended- the Archstar."

The Overseer grew hushed. "...and I was there to witness it burn out."

It was best not to dwell on that, fuel was needed. The Overseer piqued up once more, returning to her formal tone. "But if we want a chance, we'll need to first source ourselves a spacecraft-grade rift boring drive. Proper Arcadian technology. It seems those marauders had at least some access to rundown tech, but there may be other, less aggressive ways of finding one."


The Captain had been awfully quiet, taken aback by the sudden, almost disgraceful drop of an impossibility. Dahlia shifted, finally moving herself out of the spot on the cold ground she had almost formed to. There was something here that wasn't right. She saw the glimpse of the robed Overseer sped over at the end of the presentation, and she heard an almost elusive tick to the robots words. When the Overseer finished, she spoke up with a grunt. "What about you? It seems like you've been in many places, but why... here. It doesn't seem like you could have been misplaced by the Schism."

The Overseer craned her head, looking down at the grounded captain inquisitively. The girl had an attentive eye for the details, annoyingly. "A wise man once told me that everything in this reality exists to serve a purpose. I came to this side of the Archstar under my own will. My own failure. That reasoning is my burden to carry."

The conversation was interrupted by a groaning shift from one of the detainees, in good timing. The Overseer snapped her arm back into place layer by layer, reforming a more natural shape out of the mess. "It would seem the reckless are waking."

Dahlia rested once more, briefly eyeing the robot's scarred midriff from the intercepted projctile meant for herself.
 
Tundra

For a moment, there was silence.

"I have a question, A few actually." Romulus struck through the silence like lightning, getting prepared for yet another interrogation in his lifetime.

"Arcadian tech? I'm sorry, but I don't think you see the whole picture. Furthermore, in their hubris did they actually consider what someone, say from Terran origin WOULD do if they had found out about this little magic material you had cooped up?" He stared at Osco, unblinking. Partially to psych himself up for what he was up against, and partially to show her a bit of tense understanding. In vain, he whips his arm away only to find it caught by solid opal-like crystal held around his wrists. The cuffs were bound to the back of the now shaking and rattling chair. The Gun man lets out a few grunts in pain and effort as he tries to separate himself from the chair. After a while, he sits tight, catching his breath.

"I bet you want me to let loose already, so how about we give you a starting point." The Biker struggled once more, wearing out his legs, which were also bound with similar structures to the seat he was currently in. After a while he stopped and tried to heat the material he was bound with, only to find his pyrokinesis useless on the material he was sealed in. He gives up again, and starts with a long exasperated sigh. "My name was never Caesar. I am Romulus Aurum, Lead researcher of project Round Table and the inventor of the Knight Systems. That artifact that Reman has, and moreover everything you've seen from the invaders is based upon my design."
 
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Tundra

Wake up.

Marie bolted awake, causing the chair to slip a little beneath her. She noticed that she was bound across her body to a chair, a fire nearby, close to two others...

"What do you want? I'm not a witch, I don't have any money, and I've done nothing illegal, I pro-"

Oh wait. It was just the crew. She sighed in some amount of relief as she tried her best to slump down in the chair, before looking around a little better.

What was all that happened, anyways? She felt something calling to her, like a little tickle in her mind, a little pinprick of an incredibly high amount of voltage in her view, but it couldn't be identified, like it was something more than just electricity.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes darting around, looking for the source...and there it was, lying in the snow. A vantablack key, with its edges an acid green. It was calling. Whispering things she couldn't make out.

She looked away for now. The whispers stopped.
 
Tundra - Ferguson Branded Campfire™

For a while, Perry just seemed to not want to be seen; obviously, he felt like he was a total and complete outsider to what was going on. During the amount of time that had past, however, he had heeded the Overseer's directions, grabbing materials for the fire to help put it together. While unremarkable, he did scavenge around for chair-material, eventually hauling a few lumpy rocks near and around the makeshift fireplace for people to sit on.

When most of his work was all done and dusted, he took a seat on one of the rocks, listening in to the questions being asked. He had little idea about half of what they were talking about; in fact, to say he even would know half was generous. The Schism? New Incipere? A star named Archie? He knew he had skimped out in history, but he didn't know he did that poorly.

For now, the little AI Sky seemed to be helping poor, uninformed Perry by recording most of the conversation that was ongoing, indicated by the flicker of blue light that appeared on the handheld computer's screen. Perry knew Sky wouldn't manifest herself in a moment like this, and thus followed her example, waiting until things moved on from whatever the one who told him to make the fire was doing to ask a legitimate question.
 
Tundra
Bonfire Squad

Rhea nodded, as the overseer answered her questions. And as the captain asked what was left unsaid in her question, and the overseer answered that too. She was curious. Of course she was, she couldn't leave well enough alone, knowing that it could very well have something to do with herself. As she huddled by the fire, her chin on her knees, she listened to a few of the others talking, and frowned at the crazy people waking up again, deciding to hold any further questions for when they were alone. She also looked to the new person... well, probably new. She was pretty unsure of where he came from in anycase, but, he didn't seem like a nutcase like the tied up crewmembers, or the attackers that fled into the night.

Between them all, she wasn't really sure what to think, but she knew she really did't want to be friendly with the people using the keys, drivers, whatever they wanted to call them. They were as mad as a bucket of coked up ferrets, and she was having none of it. But, as sad as it was, they were probably much more friendly than the ones causing 'collateral damage'. If things really went bad, she supposed she'd rather beable to throw the bucket of coked up ferrets at the people fancying themselves as the law, before kicking them in the jimmy and running away. If only she wasn't pretty sure that the connection between the number of crazy people on board, and the number of people who use drivers, weren't a coincidence, she'd probably try one out herself for keeps.

Finally, she looked to the crazy people. "So, were those other crazy people friends of yours? Or, is it just a coincidence that they all had stuff like yours, would do anything to get more of it, and were probably also crazy?"
 
Tundra
The person who most deserves a nap, but will never get one

Aradia Sivins looked about as physically stable as the Riders were mentally. She appreciated the help of the newcomer medic, though; she sped the process along quite well. Unfortunately, the smol pilot was running on almost nothing, energy-wise. She was plopped, rather unceremoniously, next to the fire, sleepily sapping energy from a shard of topaz in her hand. She... almost looked like she was on a drug high. Almost.
 
Tundra
Bonfire Pit

Overseer Tara was right---the reckless awoke once more, indeed. It seemed the cozy campfire get-together was abruptly turning into a scene set for a soon-to-be interrogation, something Romulus "Caesar" Aurum seemed too aware of, considering the subject in question had made the first move. Another case of a false identity... much like Keith himself, Romulus also hid behind a mask of his own making. In the short time they had known each other for, the informant came to despise the artificer for his smug and cold-hearted personality, but much as he had learned to forgive himself years ago, he could come to accept this man's faults, depending on what he was about to learn and based upon his earlier findings.

That thought didn't make his job any easier.

Keith unceremoniously stood up from his seat on the blanket of fresh snow, patting Rhea's shoulder as if to say "I'll be right back". He didn't bother dusting his clothes off before reaching inside his poncho to withdraw the papers he'd been holding on to for a while now, and motioning for OSC-01 to come closer. Before showing them off to the rest of the crew and the current captives, however, Keith carefully maneuvered the papers around so that they would be hidden behind the currently open notebook he kept on him at all times.

The Abspectra research papers were his trump card, and it would be unwise to reveal irrefutable evidence without a lie to catch the perpetrator on. Of course, one could not follow this roundabout route and open up with the proof anyway to prevent possible lies altogether, but that wouldn't make the interviewee slip up. Inducing anxiety is an invaluable skill for interrogators, as are suggestibility and deception.

"Now then, Romulus Aurum, first things first..." He cracked his knuckles, limbering up his nigh-frostbitten finger joints. "We have reason to suspect you hold valuable information about our engineer Reman's current state. Tell us what you know."
 
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TUNDRA
Perhaps it is the hunters seeking a witch that will find one faster than those who wait.

Deimos didn't really know much in terms of means of contributing. All of this adventure had already gone by in a flurry. He hadn't even known about the underlying feud between the different sides of the team until now. Why he didn't question his teammates being bound to chairs by the fire was beyond him, but at the same time, he never was one to think such sides of the story were really his business, especially since nobody had made it his business in the first place.

The drivers. The use of technology that enhanced individuals beyond human capacity with this mysterious element. Deimos was still wrapping himself around the wonders of Arcadian engineering. These abilities displayed by these Echyllis-benders seemed just as any other ability displayed by Ayenee explorers - the mages and wizards common to any team. Heck, he remembered a Sorceress being a part of his team on the faithful night he lost it all.

He'd been out of the loop, so he took the time to pluck his datapad from his bag and catalog the interaction before him with not a word to be spoken - a stenographer of sorts to the interrogation he was bearing witness to. Asking for the shakedown of events he wasn't privy to would have to wait until they were all back in the confines of a cleaned ship.
 
Tundra
Bonfire

OSC-01s green gaze wavered not an inch as she took her place near Keith. The Overseer waited patiently for the outbreak of the accused to finish, not once breaking eye contact. "I suppose you're one of the lucky ones who happened upon this work long after that tyrants death, Romulus Aurum. Many better-minded men and women lost their lives in the centuries leading to your grand breakthrough."

The Overseer unfurled a wing, revealing one of the many collected keys clenched in their metal palm. The robot held it between two hands now, feeling the sides of the abducted key. Or rather, a fuse so indignantly named 'Trigger'. "The crew has many questions regarding your biography or your whereabouts, but that's not my interest. From what I've seen, you've only created one contrivance." The Overseer continued forth, calm as can be. "The past events have posed you as a threat to the safety of Captain Dahlia Morgan, her crew, as well as the general populous you surround yourself with. As a former representative of the New Incipere Courthouse, investigating dangers posed by echyllis-enriched devices are perfectly within my paradigm."

The Overseer gripped the key on both sides, maintaining direct eye contact with the accused, recording his reactions. "...And as a former representative of the New Incipere Courthouse, I am free to use any means deemed necessary to investigate." OSC-01 twisted her wrists, snapping the blue key clean in two without hesitation. The crystalline fuse snapped in two, a small shatter of blue "glass" flicking into the air before quickly being wicked away. Before the crews very eyes, the crystal began to decompose and evaporate, giving out a quiet fizzle as the force drained away from it.


"You are not a man intimidated by the cheap threat of physical pain, and I discern that your many creations only stand to amplify that ego." The Overseer paused, kicking forward a sack of items which spilled out onto the cold tundra. Keys, tools, drivers, most notably the Veteran itself, as well as the disk that contained the compressed form of Romulus' life work.

"The marauders that attacked the crew weren't after them, they were after you. However, no one here is safe now due to your involvement. Only you know full well who they were and why they attacked, as well as their armaments." The Overseer raised an arm, unfurling a primary feather out into its more weaponized form. The Overseer rested the inert blade of the glaive atop the receiver of the Veteran, keeping it there for the time being as she returned her gaze to Romulus. "In your position, I advise you to answer the crews questions and any more deemed necessary openly and honestly," the Overseer spoke as she pressed the glaive down, scratching the surface of the weapon against the ground, "or I will burn everything to your name in the fires it came from, until all that is left is your one creation."

The Overseer yawed her head slightly, in the direction of the unconscious engineer tied mere feet away from the accused artificer. "The one you can't stand letting free."

Tara shot an eye over to Keith, alluding to him to keep note and continue.
 
Tundra
Bonfire

"I'll have you know that I wasn't even aware of my involvement until fifteen years later," Marie grumbled to the robotic overseer. "He's on his own here. I almost became a pet project of his, now that I'm aware."

Marie started scooching her chair across the frozen earth, away from Romulus. She had something Romulus did not: Fifteen years of understanding what her abilities did thoroughly. Nothing she could do would help her escape, but...well, as the saying went, when on a camping trip, if you run into a bear, you only have to be faster than the slowest person in the group.

The white-haired engineer-scientist smirked a little. Quite the irony, wasn't it? The pyrokinetic on the hottest seat of all time. She looked directly at the Overseer. Her eyes were regular deep blue as she tried to plead her case to the self-appointed judge -- mostly through pleading guilt but also promising to testify against the head honcho.
 
Romulus only leaned back in his chair, before darting a look towards Reman, across from him.

The mechanic was only now waking, the dazed state of the man was only complimented by the glossed-over blank expression on his face. His eyes only had a small spark of color left in them as a small streak of black slowly inched it's way across Reman's face.

Romulus looked back at Osco with an intensity only matched when taking the step to eliminate the Beast after the presentation. What came out of his mouth was a deep, guttural cackle, as if he was well prepared for this, at this point. Romulus rattled around in his chair, still attempting to shake whatever was on his hands loose, before trying to hatch some sort of escape plan. "You're giving me the implication that wasn't what I was planning to do." In his mind, if he couldn't destroy the cuffs on his floor-bound chair, he would try destroying the emplacements instead. Romulus pulled back his restraints, like he was punching the air in front of him in order to attempt to shake the poles his hands were bound to loose from the construction. No luck so far, but he wouldn't waste any more energy than he could. "That's HILARIOUS. If you could, open those papers onto any page you like, and let's follow along. Give me an excerpt I can quote verbatim."

The mechanic couldn't fully comprehend exactly where he was at the moment, and being chairbound really wasn't something he expected to come up to after being knocked out for the billionth time. It was par for the course, given what was spreading through his body. It was painful, but not overtly. Like something was wrong, and every time you moved something inside you broke further. "O-ow. I feel s-so much worse. What's going on? Marie?"

Romulus looked over at Reman with contempt. "Sucks to be you right now, doesn't it Beta? Fitting that you're once again in the position that you are given that you ignored my directions on taking off your equipment. Not only that, but putting forward one that doesn't have a regulator? Priceless." Reman could only look away from the little strength he had, out of fear and an understanding he lacked the capacity to fully comprehend. Romulus jolted back towards Tara with the same glare he had before. "You're on a timer. If he loses control; You, Your clueless captain, My-" Romulus faked a cough to imply something more. "blameless former colleague, The oh-so brilliant alchemist, The limbless, and the soon to be. If he's the only creation of mine left, He will be the only one of you left."
 
Downrider
Cleaning Duty

Juryrig has listened in on everyone, thanks to Osco and all that jazz. With the ship finally cleaned up, the two decided to discuss amongst themselves whilst heading to the camp.

"Well I'll be, their little world is locked behind a barrier of pure science fantasy! Bro, this may be what I've been looking for."

"We, Jury?"

"... Yeah sure whatever."

"But this is just because they're advanced, right?"

"Advanced AND we know for certain that echyllis had mutated the bacteria to be able to target only civilians of different countries. Echyllis tends to mutate whatever lifeform there is, assuming that the contact is at least prolonged. There could be documents about this, and even a cure for it!"

"... Well yeah, but... Wait... That sounds like the Curse!"

"You darn well bet it does! I wouldn't be surprised if the Curse and the infected bacteria were the same kind of mutated microorganism! We just need to research and do some tests..."

By now, Juryrig just walked out of the Downrider, and he heard what Osco, Marie, and Romulus said with his own two ears. It was what Romulus said and implied that irked him just the wrong way. Tom was quick to sense this...

"Heeeeeeeeey, Juryrig-"

... And was quick to get shut down.

"Shut up Tom!"

Juryrig puffed his chest, and began to approach Romulus with a clenched fist, a twisted smile, and a aura of fury. "Oh is he, now? Little old Reman is infected with a foreign agent that'll bubble up and cause him to go on a cute little murder spree? Trying to be the grown adult here and pop him off before he'd get a chance to taste blood, and calling it good and taking responsibility? That is not how you do either of that! You're just upset because he costed you your whole work; all those accomplishments washed away, like a town in a hurricane."

"By the way," he says as he pointed to the bound man in the chair, "what have your accomplishments ever done for you since you came aboard, Romulus? You have failed to change anything, you ultimately done nothing you set out to do, and if anything, everyone else who's ever used your own little accomplishments has been more successful than you have ever been since you signed up with us! I literally sat on my ass playing with rocks and robot corpses in our first episode, and I've still done more for this crew than you have ever done since you got here!"

Jury dropped his accusing pointer finger, but kept his other hand a clenched fist. "As far as I care about, your work is just a means to a end to everyone else here. You know, the more productive, useful people."

".... W-well, that's... That's harsh. But I'm surprised-"

"You can start being productive by taking back what you said about me; not cool, Romulus. I'll have you know I'm the best alchemist here, second only to my own brother!"

"... Dammit Jury." Tom is disappointed in this.
 
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Tundra
Makeshift Courtroom

"I never mentioned any papers, Mr. Romulus," was the informant's immediate response to the artificer's little quip. Picking up on OSC-01's cue and noticing the interviewee had sidestepped his question entirely, Keith let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders backwards, warming himself up to stave off the cold. "Now then, since you seem so keen on sidetracking, I'll ask you again in clearer terms:" For the first time ever, he deliberately allowed his notebook to carelessly fall from his grasp onto the snow blanket below, at last showcasing his definite evidence to the supposed culprit; the Abspectra research documentation.

"Head director of project Round Table, Romulus Aurum, you are hereby suspected of withholding valuable information about the Abspectra phenomenon observed in your test subject, Reman, after intense mutation as a byproduct of simultaneous exposure to the cyclone and nightmare keys. Tell us, in no uncertain terms, how to stabilize his condition." The ex-sergeant motioned with a subtle nod for OSC-01 to put on further stress on Romulus by slightly intensifying her glaive's pressure against his creation, the Veteran. "I won't ask you again."

Juryrig's testimony on the nature of the mutations might yet prove useful, as could Marie's version of the events that transpired in those years she seemingly worked underneath the head director---that is, assuming Keith was able to coerce anything useful out of her by proxy. Though she wasn't completely off the hook in being related to all of this, the informant had no dirt to press her on with directly. Right now, it appeared the most useful confessions would come out of the contrast between Marie's and Romulus' stories, and the victim Reman's own account of what happened.
 
Tundra Turnabout
Bonfire

OSC-01 stood with her arms folded now, taking in the details of Romulus whiplash as the questions came pouring in. The man was nearing delusion, but it seemed that the implications of Remans status were at least partly to blame. A horrid, mutant case of echyllis poisoning was all it was. A condition simialr to glassvein, but... tainted. She had seen far worse in her days. The Overseer leaned forwards, resting their weight on the glaive. "You must not have too much concern for your health pumping that much echyllis radiation directly into your colleagues."

The Overseer shot an eye, both at Romulus and Marie. "I like my chances," the Overseer said as the glaive flared up, slicing cleanly through the receiver of the Veteran. The gun was sliced clean in half, the newly exposed surface glowing hot. "I can't say anything about yours."

OSC-01 recollected. "I advise you proceed and give us the full story," the Overseer paused and looked at a different face, "before I ordain Juryrig to untie the mechanic and let him deal with you himself. I'm sure you've got many things to answer for."
 
Tundra
Peanut gallery without penuts

Rhea watched the back and forth between the lot of them- utterly losing track of the conversation very, very fast. The only thing she could gather from this, was that yes, those weird things on the ground being threatened were infact, very dangerous. Romulous was crazy, and Reman was his dangerous pet project. Everything beyond that started to make Rhea's head spin. Maybe she was really going loopy just listening to this- juryrig almost sounded sensible! Quickly, she slapped her cheeks and shook her head, getting herself back into the grove of things. And of course, the moment she did, juryrig started sounding like a crazy person again, she'd done it!

Once she'd gotten her head back on straight, during keith's speach, she decided to sidle on by to position the overseer inbetween herself and the nuts, and then scooted closer, observing the strange keys now that she has a chance to see them- with the almost sure knowledge that they are made with... something... probably similar to her own powers. IF that blue glass evaporating in the air was any indication. Did that mean that her powers were just as, if not more dangerous?

... another set of questions for when she was alone with the overseer, she thought. Though, she felt her face grow cold as she went just a little bit pale. She wasn't crazy. She was pretty sure, anyway. Hopefully she was immune... yeah... Though that left a question- were those things actually safe for her to use? She looked up to the overseer questioningly, but, didn't want to say anything.
 
Tundra
C R O S S E X A M I N A T I O N
Romulus pushed against the chair, shifting his body mass to try and tilt the chair to a more comfortable position. "Fine. Every excruciating detail then." Romulus cleared his throat and tried to visualize that scenario in his mind. The intense manufactured glare turned to staring into the abyss as if he wasn't there at all. He could remember the shame, teh humiliation, every misstep he made to get to this point.

"I was once a respected scientist. Head of my region on station Ysgard out in the middle of nowhere. Employed at Amperia researching the remnants of magitech we Terrans never got the chance to understand. We were starved for new things to research in our department, and it just so happens we were donated one by delivery one night. A husk with a little imprint of Echyllis inside. I still don't fully understand but that casing... It's shape lead it to convey and channel energy like I've never seen before. We decided to open up a project to study these artifacts to get a good idea of what we were working with, and originally they were to be as tools to anyone who used them." Romulus attempted to point inside the downrider. "Beta built one of those early machines we created in the lab. It's far, far more than a cloaking device depending on what you insert into it."

"Wait, that's more than a cloaking device?" Reman tried to turn towards the ship, but found himself still stuck in the chair, the extra exertion making him cough and wheeze for his effort.

As if offended to the highest degree, Romulus stuck up his nose just slightly enough to not lose focus, but also enough to convey the now forming sneer across the Biker's face.

"If anyone with a brain took more than a CURSORY GLANCE of things as they saw them, they might know exactly what it was. There were more prototypes, including one with a machine that was able to read what the key's properties were. At this point, our benefactor joined our research team, and at the time, I thought nothing of it. He was an interesting type of person, long-winded and lost in thought when we were working together. To our behest, He didn't really... Have a name. The concept had not apparently crossed his mind, so he named himself after what he saw as familiar, one of the equations on our research papers. Sigma."

Romulus took a heavy sigh and clenched his fists as he held particular regret for what he was about to say next.

"We had accepted three people to volunteer as test subjects for our program. All but one had precursory echyllis exposure, and were sent in these... Stasis pods is the nicest way to put it. They were to increase the exposure of subjects periodically so we could test on how to connect the host to the machine, as sometimes our testing noted an unusual strain to the body when used by individuals that were less experienced to the material. And one of those-" Romulus faked another cough quickly. "was that little mischievous mechanic you have on board.

"W-What??? I don't... No! I never even volunteered!"

"We had you sign CONSENT beforehand, and I'm surprised you say that you DIDN'T. If I was allowed back on Ysgard, I'd take you there so I'd have the right to spit in your rations. Anyways you're not the one being interrogated here. Zip it, dumbass.

Reman looked down at the ground semi-frustrated. Something seemed odd to him; the certainty of which he said that honestly made him more angry than anything else. The artificer continued on from that rude interruption.

It wouldn't have gone into weapons development until I had left that first key in the inspection chamber. It was late at night while I was working, and your little prissy scientist had started cataloging all of the different keys we had made in the lab with extra materials we had shipped in from other places. The screen didn't show up quite normal, and it didn't really respond like a program would. It had taken on what I could say was a mind of it's own. The panel had alerted me to something I had never known about that shook me to my core. There was what seemed to be verses of some far off religious text. I couldn't read them, but... She could. Something about her allowed her to read those symbols that the machine produced.

I don't remember it exactly, but what I do remember was talk of a Blackened King, strengthened to godhood by the materials within, with a series of followers who were in the same higher form, fighting a war against the people of every planet there was. Every time they fought, even if it was a knockout they got stronger, and stronger, decimating all there was until there was nothing but them. I don't care if it was a hallucination or a bad dream. I couldn't ever let that happen. And thus, began the true project. A weapons system that could allow us to fight and beat the escalating force. Project Round Table.

I was the first to test the device we made. The Proto 1, the first bracer we had made to control the systems was built, and since I took charge on the drastic tonal shift, I tested it first myself. The strength of the suit was greater than expected, and afterwards left me even more altered than the tools did. It was like something was trying to take your place while you were standing there. We had tested it on the three others, and most of them went just fine. I had to intervene when Sigma started exposing Beta to too much of that first key too quickly. Those growths looked different then, less wispy and more hairy, and it started spreading kind of like it is now, but slower.

He leaned back and was quiet for a moment, in a moment of humiliation and regret.

And then I tried using other keys to stabilize his condition. From the beginning we had used Nightmare to catalyze his echyllis growth. That first key. It wasn't until I put in cyclone that the beasts manifested themselves for the first time. Creatures we later came to call Abspectra." He took a moment to stare at Keith and wait for him to flip through the papers. "I had decided to use Cyclone, that green key to stabilize his condition, but I never realized the keys could work together. Instead of slowing the growth, it had intensified it, and sent the mechanic into a form I had not seen. Right now, he is becoming that form again. He's mutating to become that creature, that monster inside the key. The monster that maimed and murdered over half of my research team, and got the most valuable member of our crew to transfer departments. I wish I could go back to the day when I did it, so that I'd have not put their lives in danger.

Most of the remaining team was shocked, but not Sigma. He was almost perversely pleased with that result. It came to a night where I was researching where the keys went to that Sigma went without jurisdiction to expose Beta again. I had a fight with him in the office, and in one of our testing areas linked to that area you called 'The great nothing', I pushed him onto it, and he had just outright Dissipated. Gone to dust right in front of me. I had committed a murder of someone I never even truly knew, and I found out exactly what he wanted. It was just like the Nightmare key wanted me to hear, he was trying to force Reman into that state again so he could either imitate the exposure, or transfer it to himself via the machines we built.

That realm is only created by these artifacts, and by using them, we had been making an anchor to that world we had feared, both figuratively and literally. We moved departments to work under closed doors so that no higher ups could have found out what I'd have done. We had to take in more subjects for testing purposes in, and that's when he came in. You've heard his name by now.

Bismark Urane.

Sigma had apparently earlier sent someone he had indoctrinated unknowingly into my ranks, developing a plan to try and attain this kind of power for himself. Urane set a plan into motion and read my documents, re-exposing Beta and letting the beast loose among the populous of the station. I recaptured him quicker than the first time, but at that point it was over for me. In every effort he could use to defame me, he posted me for the murder of Sigma, conspiracy of terrorism, and removed my credentials to make it seem like I had gone on the run. I broke into my lab and freed everyone I could, but there's no way even the Voltage suit I had could outrun what Bismark had done."

"Wait..." Reman muttered quietly to himself. He could remember both memories in his mind, with conflicting intent. The fogginess of both his escape and his capture couldn't make sense of what he was experiencing. For him it was like putting together a puzzle without all of the pieces.

"I went out on the run, and in time I had to keep tabs on the people I let out. I learned about what Sigma and Urane were a part of, and I took to doing the only thing I wanted to do. I was going to burn that little Cult of theirs to the ground. Once I found out Sigma was being stabilized by Reman and his overexposure, I couldn't risk it. I used the magic-centered retrieval frequency that was standard on almost all Amperian technology and tracked him through arcane means. I know exactly what they're after, too. I just need the time and the Freedom to do it. Believe me, if there was another way, I'd have taken every attempt I could and done it myself. Reman needs to die so that Sigma does as well."

"No, but there has to be another way! I can't just be a goat for slaughter, that's not right in the slightest!" Reman's panic only further accelerated his mutation, sending the black scales and fur careening across the back of his neck.

"If you really care that much about your own useless life, Let's make a deal. The prissy investigators of this crew wants to know how to stabilize Reman? You either have to kill him here and now, or you use a conduit to drain that energy out of him. A Living conduit. Maybe you could make yourself useful, inventor. Maybe I could reconsider if you took on that burden." The artificer cracked a smirk and tried to motion inside the ship. "That disc contains my equipment, my Keys, and every last bit of notes left I have. If you want to take a step and see what to do next, you must absorb enough of his energy to stabilize him. I have one bulk transfer unit remaining inside my ship, and at the rate he's going, you had better find that disc and learn how to stabilize him enough so that he won't overflow again. Because if he does, and I escape these bindings after doing that,"

"I'm going to put a bullet in his temple."
 
Marie opened her mouth to object, but then something caught her eye: the black key in the snow with its edges in a bright green. It seemed to be glowing. No, it wasn't glowing, it was transferring. Transferring in the sense that if she really closed her eyes and focused, she could feel her driver contacting with the Downrider's onboard computer and its communicator trying to find the nearest FTL communications hub.

Except it wasn't transferring information in the sense of fields and waves, but rather, across...something else. Its target was...her.

Transfer complete.

Her eyes closed. Yes, there it was -- the ordered logic in the chaotic symbols, gibberish that had no right to make sense. And yet, it did. The noise cleaned up, turning into proper text.

"...in the end, nothing shall matter but strength..." she whispered. Her eyes opened, and as the fire caught her irises, they seemed to almost flash green for a second.

"Yes, I did find a discrepancy at the time," Marie noted. "No known medical scanner was ever made to display on the scale you requested. It was later understood that your medical scanner was not a measure of some arbitrary blood sugar or heart rate, but rather it was about the amount of power one could afford to cram through a driver."

"The idea that keys can work together to strengthen each other was called Resonance, a nod to the idea of resonant frequencies," Marie continued, slowly affirming everything Romulus stated. "Most of what you are stating is correct."

"However, there is one last discrepancy," Marie noted, as she slumped a little in her chair, looking ever so slightly dazed and exhausted. "If the Cult's goals are as you said, why were they after you? Why not me, or Reman? I was out there. They wanted you by name."
 
Tundra

Juryrig mulled over the exposition; as Romulus spoke, that smile of the inventor's had waned. He pursed his lips, and twiddled his thumbs.

"... Juryrig...?"

"Yeah yeah bro, we aren't killing him. But for cripes sake, he didn't even give me praise!"

"But Jury, Reman!"

"The weak-willed twerp can go turn into a basilisk for all I care, Tom!"

"... Would you let me be a basilisk?" Tom thought-asked, the tone sounding hurtful.

At that moment, Juryrig had to acknowledge that Tom took offense to that; the latter being aware that Juryrig only cared for Reman as much as he does is because Tom and Reman aren't so different. The both of them are naive imbeciles with gifts that could've made them something better than what they are now. Just grown-up babies.

"Nah... Never. You know what, alright. It'll work out in our favor anyways, brother! Just you wait."

Juryrig then snapped out of his 'deep think' pose, focusing on Reman. A smile grew, grew, yet grew, and he let out a cackle. "Ah yes, you say it as if it were even a challenge!"

The alchemist craned and twisted, walking past Marie as he began his dialogue. "I have seen this kind of curse before; one where your tumors become a body-grown armor that takes a life of its own, a prison of flesh where you are in the front row seats; where the mud eats children and the looks of the buildings could kill you with depression; where there was no light that can break through the cloud-covered sky! A town whose feast is your body!"

"I will have you know that my brother and I lived in that town, and I thought I have made that EXCEPTIONALLY clear with all of Ayenee!" He turned on his heals, facing the group, however his heel hit the Data key, which prompted him to pause and see what he hit on accident.

"Oh hello little fellow, there you are!" Juryrig picked up the Data key, looked it over, and pocketed it. "Yeah, this was one of the four to five Keys I stole from your ship, and then I lost it in the scuffle with the old lady. Now where was I..."

"Um... The part where we lived in town?"

"Ah yes, thanks brother! That town was Stallion Hallow, and my brother lost his life, but that's fine, the whole town went along with it anyway!" Juryrig laughed once more. "You and I aren't that different, Romulus! We're one and the same, men of genius looking to fix the errors of the past that define who we are, who we will be when we lead the great chaos parade! Ah yes I can see it now, with great banners that speak my name and a car that's the great popstar of the next generation! Glowing moths fluttering around like the real confetti, and lumbering demons of tumors and malice that dwarf the floats and the dancing blots of arms and hellfire!"

The mad alchemist sprinted back to Romulus, and slid to a stop. "By all means, let me fix your problems, little artificer! Let me prove to you how much of a failure you are by single-handily accepting your challenge in stride. Just like how I used your keys to take down a armored juggernaut ALL of you struggled to go against!"

Juryrig twisted to Reman, and pointed at the poor man bound in the chair with a wicked smile on his features. "Fear not, REMAN! Your fate is in all of my hands, my good hands, for I am the ULTIMATE ONE!"

With a final mad cackle, Juryrig flicked his red coat, and entered the Downrider to find that disc; it was time to prepare for TRUE artificer work!
 
Tundra
Updated Autopsy Report

Keith smirked. It was a rare situation that the informant would ever be caught demonstrating any signs of vanity, but it was just as Marie had said: the Biechelon Collective was after Romulus by name, despite having two other potential targets to pick freely from among those who participated in Round Table in some way. That meant he held something unique, something neither Marie nor Reman would be able to provide.

But there was something else in the artificer's long account that did not match the Abspectra research documents. Keith cast his eyes down from staring defiantly at Romulus to the papers he held in his hands, scanning them once more for hints of evidence before lightly backhand-slapping them on the edge with his left hand, as if he had found something else of note.

"You said you murdered Sigma by pushing him into the Great Nothing, and saw him turn to dust right before your very eyes. But this contradicts your written account of Sigma's involuntary exposure to an aspect of these "keys" your research team had been, so far, unable to recreate." Keith stressed the words "involuntary exposure", drawing them out accusingly. "Furthermore, the report suggests he was dragged into the Great Nothing, through the Nightmare key, by an unknown factor, rather than pushed into it by an outside force."

"Earlier, you arrogantly assured us of your capability of citing the entirety of these papers verbatim. Even the greatest conman would struggle to keep track of all their lies for so long as fifteen years; we can, then, surmise whatever is written in these records must be the truth." He paused, handing the papers over to OSC-01 standing guard nearby so she might also have a read of the evidence. "Behind a thousand lies, there must be one hidden truth. Is there something you're not telling us, Romulus Aurum?"
 
Tundra

OSC-01 stood at guard, listening to every detail of the artificers story and saving it for future use. Their gaze only wavered once, briefly looking down at the red-headed girl that was staring up at them. The Overseer grabbed the papers Keith handed, folding through them with absolute brevity. The papers were quickly pushed back to Keith as fast as a scanner could process them, if not faster than any he had seen.

The first detail, a cloaking device, specifically one utilizing echyllis fuses. It could be a number of things, but the most common device the man could be mistaking for a religious epiphany would be an ATES Klahta-Echo line device. Wretched things built into every armor unit produced by the corporation. Not a traditional camouflage cloak, but rather an illusory device that used condensed fields of echyllis to seemingly erase any trace of a being contained within. If true, that delusion could be broken another day.

Secondly, the state of Reman, and what Romulus believed where the solution lied. "As unforgivable the Arcadians were for their crimes, there were reasons for keeping their secrets dear. Echyllis is a dangerous and anomalous material, Aurum and company." The overseer looked briefly down at the worried child.

"Not even the best of Arcadian scientists could explain all its properties, notoriously it's ability to imprint."

"Imprint?" echoed the Artificer, with a mix of agitation and... slight curiosity.

The Overseer rested, allowing her glaives to fold once more into orderly- albeit now asymmetrical feathers. "Echyllis has a tendency to remember things, without a mind of will of its own. Rarely it can remember the places its been, what its been formed into, who it has been channeled by." The robot paused. "Lengthened exposure to these figments can drive even the most stable minds to hysteria. If I had to establish a theory as to why your partners in science present aren't seeing things straight, they've spent their lives, as well as yours, surrounded by Echyllis that has been imprinted in many of the past eons, carrying it with them in their daily lives. There is no sapience or will involved, but rather an ancient echo, caught in reprise."

"If whispered enough times in the ear, people will believe anything- and this fire has the luxury of going straight to the brain." The Overseer eyed Juryrig, as if by example.

Dahlia scratched her chin, having sat up eventually to hear this entire turnabout unfold in front of her. The Overseer had an almost cruelty about her interrogation, but was starting to work around to something. Exactly what, she was left to wonder.


The Overseer paused, continuing after looking back at Keith. "Regardless of wether it was a push or a willfull pull, the Great Nothing holds nothing back. Any unprotected matter caught in it is mercilessly disintegrated in moments, the particles of whom are either returned to form that fire, or spread so thin about the many dimensions that someone with all the time in the world could retrieve them."

OSC-01's disembodied head dropped just a hair, subconsciously. It wasn't a second before it snapped straight once more, locked in place.

The Overseer shot an eye over to Keith, waving a folded wing as she turned away from Romulus to allow him space to think this over. The motion signaled him to follow as the Overseer walked towards where the captain of the vessel was resting around the bonfire.


---


The Overseer spoke directly to the two, in a hushed voice. Granted, it was her normal voice with the volumee lowered. "This is starting to go the way of white noise- but I am not the captain of this vessel, nor a proper member of the crew. The verdict of this testimony is your right to make, not mine."

Dahlia pondered on it, looking briefly at the waning bonfire as the orange light bounced off her blue eyes. "Well, there's no denying the man is guilty of his past work, but we aren't exactly in an area of proper law..."

"He does seem to want to fix his own mistakes, at least, even if it be in whatever morbid ways he concluded would work. I can't say I don't sympathize with the man---I have gone through much the same in my own life." Keith paused for a moment, scratching his chin in thought. "He's a man riddled with built-up regret from fifteen years on the run, clouding his judgement and pushing him to hostility."

OSC-01 nodded hesitantly, taken aback. "I cannot say I trust him to restrain from doing something destructive once he's freed."

Dahlia thought on the duos statements. There wasn't a clean way to handle a case like this, given it was mostly hearsay beyond documentation. OSC-01 spoke once more. "The man doesn't know a fact about the materiel he's addicted his crew too outside of the limited scope he's been able to work with it. We may be able to stabilize the mechanic without him."

Dahlia grimaced, thinking it over. It wasn't too far from the deal she had struck with the present Overseer mere days ago. How time flies when you're evading danger. "We don't need him, but he needs us."

OSC-01 tilted her head just a touch. Dahlia continued. "It's our way, or he'll be left on his own until that collective comes back to collect him."

OSC-01 noted. "Therefore, we have leverage."

"He certainly doesn't think he needs us, what with an inflated ego such as his. I doubt blackmailing the man would do much to tip the scales of negotiation further in our favor, having fallen so deep down the well as he has." The informant took one more glance at the research papers he held, eyeing the name Biechelon Collective as a brief refresher to his memory. "He's managed to avoid the Collective so far, but, I believe, has come no closer to unveiling more information about them. They have shown themselves to pose a real threat, and have already stolen part of our research. So, what's the plan?"

OSC-01 spoke up. "The head of that group didn't seem pleased at their forced retreat. I'm afraid we've made ourselves a target with or without the man in tow. Worst comes to worst, his presence could be used as an offering. Should it have to come to it."

Dahlia raised an eyebrow, looking at the Overseer. As much as she felt the man was a threat, she didn't enjoy the idea of trading lives. However, there was a point. The Captain looked over at Keith. "Then it's no longer a negotiation, if that makes sense." OSC-01 added to the statement. "I've dealt with this type before. You either make it sound like it's their idea or make sure there is no other option for them to cling to."

"And right now, Romulus is entirely at our mercy. But even if we do provide him no other option but to comply, we still cannot guarantee no harm will come to Reman, and possibly Marie if he sees her as a gateway to correct his failures. I trust the title of Overseer wasn't picked for vanity?" Keith took a quick peek over his shoulder at the still bound interviewees. "He's... persistent, if nothing else, and we have little to gain by keeping him around. Your thoughts, Captain?"

OSC-01 gave a subtle chortle. "He won't be spared a truly private moment until his work is finished."

Dahlia nodded, glancing at the new scars that been punched into the Overseers midriff. She exhaled, looking back at the two. As angered as she had been, there was still some good intentions behind Romulus' actions, however wrong the methods had been. "Deferred judgement. We'll give him the chance to fix Reman under supervision, then decide his future with the crew when the deed is done. If nothing else, he can be left at the doorstep of someone who wants him. Sound fair?"

Keith gave a solemn nod, albeit with a look of uncertainty in his eyes. All he could do now was hope the artificer wouldn't cause more trouble than he was worth---if he hadn't, already. Despite his personal judgement, the informant couldn't help but see a little of his past self in the man. "Shall we return?"

OSC-01 nodded, extending a hand to the captain. "You need to be the one to issue the deal." Dahlia took the hand, albeit a little shook at the proposition. The captain sent the thought away as she stood up.

---

The gaggle of a makeshift court system made its way back to Romulus. The Captain took the head, folding her arms as she stopped a few feet short of Romulus. "Romulus Aurum, we have convened and made a decision. Here is your one chance to make a difference in your fate."

The Captain toughened up, looking him square in the eye. Admittedly, it was hard for Dahlia to look tough when she wasn't actively enraged. "We do not need your aid, your charity, or your blessing to correct the state of the mechanic. You being here is meaningless to me or my crew, so if you want anything to do with it, you will take it upon yourself to kindly correct this mistake and save our mechanics life."

Dahlia looked over at Juryrig and Marie, pointing her out as well. "And you are going to help him."

The captain returned to the detainee at hand. "If you accept, you will be given controlled access to your tools under careful supervision. You will remain separate from the rest of the crew, sharing no bunk or common space with them until you have completed the deed. If you harm or threaten another soul on board, I will let whatever justice necessary have you." This sounded familiar to someone. From behind Dahlia, Romulus could see OSC-01 raise a still wing. The forefront feather unfurled halfway into a destructive blade, before snapping back into place. The Captain leaned back, looking down on the cuffed man. "If you refuse, we will gladly let the Vigali drop you off with nothing but your stupid hat and damning evidence to your pursuers."


"There will be no negotiation. Do we have an agreement?"
 
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