>>3574512

>Updates: https://twitter.com/MolochQM
>Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=NERV%20Second%20Daughter

June, 2021

The sound of rock and roll guitars jabs at you from the background, mingling with the clatter of cutlery and glasses. Kay's Diner is busy today, a large number of young families crammed into the cafe. You were mistaken for one of them – Fletcher, Monroe and you. That got a few awkward laughs, but you don't feel like laughing now. Not after what Fletcher showed you.

“Be honest with me, chief,” you murmur, “Am I gonna wake up in a shooting war one of these days?”

Fletcher considers this in silence, ending the video footage and pocketing his tablet. “Not immediately,” he replies eventually, “We're not at that level yet. But, when the winds change, we won't have time to bring in outside help. We need to make preparations early.” Closing his mouth, the mercenary leans back as the waitress approaches with a pot of steaming coffee. Filling his cup with a flirty smile, the young girl glances away from Fletcher and nods to Monroe.

“Freshen up your coffee?” she offers, gesturing with the pot.

“I'd rather Irish it up,” Monroe replies with a smile, shaking her head after a pause, “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. No more coffee for me – I'm climbing the walls already.” The waitress leaves at this, looking more than eager to get away.

“Careful,” Fletcher warns with a smile, “You scared the poor girl half to death.”

“Yeah? Well, if she wants to see something really scary, she should take a look at our budget for next month,” Monroe sighs, “We're all going to have to tighten our belts.”

“That was my next point,” Fletcher continues, the corner of his mouth twisting down as he considers the situation, “Rather than a direct attack, we're likely to see a long campaign of attrition. We rely on the UN for resources, and they're all too aware of that. I can plan around a defensive conflict, but this... I'm not sure.”

Awkward silence, then Monroe lets out a forced laugh. “Hey, how come we're just talking about work again?” she complains, “This was supposed to be a nice day out, just the three of us!”

It's only the three of you, you recall, because none of the other pilots wanted to come. Nate, in particular, said that the idea was “lame”, and... well, she was probably right about that.

[2/3]

>>3574513

“So what's the plan?” you ask nobody in particular, “Just keep doing what we're doing?”

Fletcher pauses, giving Monroe a look of warning – a look that seems to say “I'm about to start talking about work again.” She sighs, admitting defeat with a shake of her head and gesturing for the mercenary to continue. “I'm thinking about additional training. Not ADM combat training, but ground level material,” he announces carefully, “Military training. The same kind of training that my people-”

“Fletcher, no! She's just a kid!” Monroe interrupts, almost shouting aloud before she stops herself, lowering her voice and looking around to you. “Besides,” she murmurs, “I don't think you're ready, Holly. You're still recovering from the last fight. We're ALL still recovering from that one. You need to rest, not play at being a soldier. As your commander, I cannot recommend this. Look, the others are planning a day out, a picnic. Karina thinks we've got a few days of peace and quiet, why not make the most of it?”

It all feels like another family squabble. Sighing inwardly, you take out your phone and glance sullenly down at the screen. One new message, from Coraline - “I've got a free afternoon. Want to talk?”

These things never happen one at a time, do they?

>Attend the training with Fletcher
>Help the other pilots with their picnic
>Meet up with Coraline
>You've got something else to do... (Write in)
>Other

>>3574514
>Meet up with Coraline
I'm curious to see how she'll spin this.

>>3574514
>Attend the training with Fletcher
>The Lilim are getting smarter, right? Maybe I should learn how to fight something that thinks.

>>3574514
>Meet up with Coraline
This may be our last chance to meet her before things go too far.
Also Fletcher asked us to ask a her a question that we never got around too asking.
from Thread #5 post >>3500072
“I would like a favour, though. Ask Coraline if she knows what the Garden's commander was selling.

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>>3574514
>Attend the training with Fletcher

>>3574514
>>Attend the training with Fletcher

>>3574514
>Meet up with Coraline

>I can totally take that training. I'm tough.

>>3574514
Welcome back, good to see you.

I feel like normal combat training is something they should have given us from the beginning, considering the way we use the ADMs. It would make us much more proficient in actually hitting things with the guns and making the most of melee combat.

>>3574535
I wonder how big the bruise is where we got shot clean through in the ADM

>>3574514
>>Meet up with Coraline

“The Lilim are starting to think, right?” you suggest, giving Monroe a sideways glance, “So like, it might help if I knew how to fight stuff that thinks. Any advantage we can get, right? Right? And besides, just sitting about isn't going to make me feel any better. I need to get out and do something!”

Monroe sighs enormously, giving Fletcher a suspicious look. “I've heard bad things about the “training” you people tend to use,” she remarks, “I'm not going to stop by and find you spraying my pilots with tear gas, am I?”

“That's part of the advanced course,” Fletcher replies, his voice perfectly deadpan, “So, not yet.”

“Just... ugh,” sighing again, Monroe shakes her head in dismay. “Just don't push her too hard, okay?” she insists, “I want you to finish up by the evening – and see if anyone else wants to take part. If you insist on doing this, Holly, I don't want you doing it on your own. I just hope someone volunteers...” Popping open her purse, Monroe takes out some money and tucks it under her coffee cup. With the bill paid, you get up to leave. As you'r'e leaving, you type out a quick reply to Coraline's message.

“Busy this afternoon,” you tell her, “Dinner?”

“It's a date,” she replies. Knowing her, she might mean that literally.

-

Fletcher, it seems, has been preparing for this training. The warehouse above HQ has been converted into an improvised training camp, the hollow space filled up by a winding set of wooden corridors. Uniformed NERV soldiers patrol the upper walkways, while Fletcher himself stares proudly at his creation. You're not exactly sure what to make of it, and Juliet – the only one to volunteer for this ordeal – offers no comment either.

“It's a kill house, although I don't think I'm supposed to use that term these days. It's too aggressive, apparently - “shoot house” is the modern term,” Fletcher explains, “It's to train soldiers in urban conditions, close quarters combat. I've done my best to replicate the corridors down in HQ, so this should be familiar to you. Less familiar to you, Juliet.”

“This is fine,” she answers, giving the kill house a blank stare, “I learn quickly.”

“Of course you do,” the mercenary mutters, “Holly, I want you to take a walk around. Learn your way around – you've had trouble with your sense of direction before, correct?”

“That was like, one time!” you protest, throwing your hands up in irritation, “And I wasn't lost, I was just... taking the scenic route!” Juliet's mouth twitches, a tiny hint of a smile showing itself before sinking beneath her impassive mask. Without ever making a sound, she manages to laugh long and loud at you. “Yeah, well, fine,” you grumble, “Just walk through, right?”

“Start at the entrance, leave through the exit,” Fletcher confirms, “Then we'll move on.”

[1/2]

>>3574514
>Attend the training with Fletcher

>>3574545

There's something eerie about seeing familiar corridors replicated in plywood and spray paint. It feels faintly mocking, although you can't really say why. “Sense of direction...” you mutter to yourself as you walk through the corridors, “Get lost like one time, and nobody lets you forget it. It's easy. Just turn this way, and... wait a minute.” Pausing at a junction, you feel your cheeks heat up as you look both ways. This wouldn't be a problem if the corridors didn't all look the same...

When you finally find your way to the exit, Fletcher is deeply engrossed in studying his tablet. “Congratulations,” he announces, without looking up at you, “You're dead. Three times over, in fact.”

“Hey, what the hell?” you protest, storming over, “I feel like, totally NOT dead!”

Fletcher turns, showing you his tablet. On it, a map of the kill house displays your winding route through the corridors – three points are marked with angry red crosses. “Here, you didn't check a room before passing by,” the mercenary explains, “And here, on two occasions, you forgot to check your corners. If there had been a gunman waiting in ambush, you wouldn't even notice him killing you.”

“That's...” blinking, you look up at him, “That's cheating! You never said I was supposed to be keeping my guard up!”

“I shouldn't need to,” he points out, “Thanks to Karina, we have some degree of warning before a Lilim attack. If it's an attack by human forces, we might not be so lucky. Consider this a lesson learned.” Setting the tablet aside, Fletcher gets up and starts to leave. “We'll do something a little more interesting next,” he tells you both, “Just give me a moment to fetch the rifles.”

Rifles? As he leaves, you give Juliet a curious look. “So did you get a lot of training?” you ask her, “You know, the military stuff. I figured we'd get more of it, but we never really did.”

“It isn't very useful,” Juliet answers simply, “The motions don't translate well to an ADM Unit. Some degree of training helps, of course, but simulated training has been deemed more effective. That was what I was told.” Pausing, she looks back to the kill house. “Although I did train like this,” she continues, “Target shooting, mostly. They pushed me hard, but I was glad of the distraction. It gave me something to focus on.”

“Shooting training, huh?” you muse, “Training you to shoot at people?”

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Would you?” you add, “Shoot a person, I mean.”

“If I was ordered to,” Juliet replies, although only after a hesitation, “Would you?”

>I don't think I could do it
>Maybe if I really disliked the guy, yeah
>If I was ordered to, yeah. Just like you
>I... (Write in)
>Other

>>3574597
>>I... (Write in)
>If they were threatening me or someone I cared about, yeah. Better them dead than me.

>>3574597
>>3574600
This works Supporting.

>>3574597
>>I... (Write in)
>"I don't know"

Talking about is one thing, but where you're in the actual moment with all the variables and emotions? It's hard to say what you would do. I feel with Holly it would depend on what's on the line like if Karina was going to get shot if Holly didn't shoot, etc.

>>3574597
>Maybe if I really disliked the guy, yeah. I'd have to know they deserve it, and that there wasn't another way.

“I don't know. It's like, I could answer one way or the other, but things are totally different once you're actually in that situation,” you answer with a shrug, “But here and now? I think... maybe I could, but only if I had a good reason. Like if they pulled a gun on ME, or if it was to save someone I cared about.” You fall silent here, and Juliet considers your answer in silence. With a slight furrow in her brow, she seems to struggle to understand.

“You would do it if you wanted to,” she replies, “If you decided to do it.”

“Right. Well, no. Not exactly. I wouldn't WANT to do it,” you correct her, only to let out a soft laugh, “Well, I guess that depends on who we're talking about. If it was someone I really disliked...”

“Not me, I hope,” Juliet remarks. With another one of her tiny smiles, you realise that she's actually making a joke. Something that was meant to be a joke, at least.

Fletcher returns as you're thinking of an answer to this, carrying a rifle in each hand. Without a word, he passes one of the long, bulky guns to you. “This is kinda...” you complain, trying to get a good grip on the weapon, “Kinda awkward? You don't have something in a smaller size, do you?”

“Nope,” he answers, “In an emergency situation, you won't have the luxury of choice. You'll need to use whatever you can get – in most cases, that's going to mean scavenging up a discarded rifle.” Stripping it off a corpse, in other words. As you continue to fumble with it, Fletcher passes a magazine to you. “Simunitions. Simulated munitions,” he explains, showing you the bullets inside, “Wax projectiles, mostly. They won't pierce the plywood backstop, and they're safe enough for use in training. You can expect one hell of a bruise if you get hit, mind you. I should know – I've taken a few hits in my time.”

It takes you a moment to grasp his point. “We're going to be shooting each other?” you yelp, looking aside to Juliet. It's like he was listening in to your conversation, or maybe Juliet knew what to expect...

“No. Not at this stage, at least. I'm going to simulate an attack on HQ – your objective will be to get to the exit, just like before. This time, though, you're going to have company. A number of my people will be searching for you, with orders to shoot on sight,” Fletcher offers a smile as he nods up to the soldiers patrolling above, “You're going to be at a severe disadvantage here, so I don't expect you to succeed on your first go, but you won't learn anything if I go easy on you. Remember your directions, watch your corners, and work together. Oh, and there's one last thing...”

“Oh good,” you sigh, “What?”

“Don't tell Commander Monroe about this,” the man concludes with a wan laugh, “She'd kill me if she knew I was doing this.”

[1/2]

>>3574620

“This is so crazy...” you whisper, shrugging your shoulders underneath the thick vest. You're both wearing heavy protective gear, earplugs and dorky safety glasses included, as a minor break from the “reality” Fletcher is trying to create. Legal issues, apparently. Even with the protective gear, you feel nervous about this – no, you feel shit scared, and you can't say why. It's training, it's not real, but you're trembling nonetheless. The long rifle, already awkward, jitters in front of you as you try to hold it upright.

The lights are turned down low, the flat white glow replaced by a strobing red emergency lamp. Hidden speakers fill the warehouse with muted sirens and crashing industrial noise, only adding to the hellish atmosphere. This, you suppose, is what a real attack on HQ would be like. If you freak out now, maybe you won't drop the ball if – when – the real thing happens.

Ah, who are you kidding? You'll probably freak out either way.

Juliet slaps you lightly on the shoulder, nodding towards the corridor ahead. Swallowing against a dry throat, you stalk on ahead. A doorway looms to one side of you, and you clumsily peer inside with the rifle raised. It's empty, with the outline of a desk drawn on the floor with chalk. Pulling back, you nod to Juliet and make a vague gesture. Soldiers gesture a lot, don't they? She just stares blankly at you, and then a dark shape looms around the corner ahead. Crying out in alarm, you start to turn as the soldier opens fire.

Three, no four, stinging impacts hit you and drive you back against the doorway. Falling heavily to the ground, you gasp for breath as the soldier cautiously approaches to check on you both. As he glances down at you, so indifferent as to be contemptuous, you feel a sickening humiliation gnawing at you. You didn't just lose, you got destroyed.

>Ego reduced by 2
>Current Ego: 63/100

“Reset and start again,” Fletcher orders, his shout carrying across the warehouse, “We'll take this from the top!”

-

Three more times, you start the training only to get cut down in short order. After the last time, you rip off your safety glasses in disgust. This time, you never even managed to get a shot off before you lost. “This is bullshit!” you shout, throwing the dumb glasses aside, “There's like a dozen guys in here, and they're all trained soldiers. This is so fucking unfair!”

“The real thing wouldn't be any different,” Juliet points out, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a particularly lurid bruise, “No, it would be different. You couldn't just reset and start over in real life.”

“Shut up, I know that!” you snap, struggling to keep your temper under control.

“Holly,” Fletcher interrupts, and you look up to see him gazing down from above, “Are you giving up?”

>Hell no, I'm not giving up!
>This is pointless, I'm done with this
>Other

>>3574656
>>Hell no, I'm not giving up!
If we need to know this, stuff, we're really going to need to know it.

>>3574656
>>Hell no, I'm not giving up!

>>3574656
>Hell no, I'm not giving up!

>>3574656
>Hell no, I'm not giving up!
Even if we keep failing we have a lot of Ego left to burn if necessary.

>>3574656
>Hell no, I'm not giving up!
Holly>>>>>Shinji

>>3574656
>Not giving up
But we could use a couple of guys on our side, just to see what they actually do in this situation. Then repeat without them.

Because if the situation ends up with pilots literally surrounded by enemies, you will have to pretty much give up on them.

>>3574656
>Hell no, I'm not giving up!

Your entire body is aching, and you're so tired that you just want to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Even so, Fletcher's words cut through your pain and fatigue to needle at your pride. “Hell no, I'm not giving up!” you shout back, grabbing the protective glasses and jamming them back on your face, “Your guys better have enough ammo, because I ain't giving up until I've beaten this stupid game!”

“You heard her. Reset and take it from the top,” Fletcher calls out, gesturing to his waiting men, “Take a five minute break, then begin.”

Juliet cracks open a bottle of water and drinks deeply, taking a second bottle out from behind a plywood screen and tossing it across to you. Taking a deep swallow of the lukewarm water, you give Juliet a nod of gratitude. “Try holding your rifle further back,” she suggests, “It's closer to the centre of gravity. It might help.”

The advice jabs at you, but you force a smile and do as she suggests. It doesn't feel all that different, but it can't hurt to try. She's had more experience with this kind of training, after all, maybe she really knows what she's talking about. Shaking the stiffness out of your shoulders, you raise the rifle as the lights dim again. “Just do better than the last time,” you whisper to yourself, “Get a little further. Do a little better. One step at a time...”

One step at a time.

>Okay! Calling for a dice check to see how far we get. This will be 1D100, with our +10 ranged bonus, and we're aiming to beat a DC of 60. I'll take the first three results, and we'll need two successes to set a new personal best!

Rolled 95 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3574694

Rolled 88 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3574694

Rolled 55 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3574694

Rolled 11 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3574694
I've got a bad feeling about this.

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>>3574699
>>3574701
>>3574702

>>3574705
Yeah, a bad feeling about how hard we're going to kick the butt of Fletcher's men.

>>3574702
>>3574701
>>3574699
Holly channeling her UN anger.

>Potent success!

A siren blares, signalling the start of the game. Holding the rifle close to your body, you advance through the gloom. Juliet turns to cover your rear, pacing backwards with an almost mechanical precision, but you barely notice her. The first corner approaches, and the dark shape of one of Fletcher's soldiers is already rounding it. Shockingly loud, even through your ear protection, you fire off a blurt of fire from your rifle. Before, your shots would fly all over the place as you struggled to control the rifle. This time, they hit the mark. Stumbling back as the wax bullets hit him, the soldier raises his hands in surrender.

Breezing past the “dead” man, you hurry down the corridor. At the next branch, Juliet shoots down another opponent and gestures down the correct path. With your heart hammering in your chest, you move on. Every corner, you advance with your rifle at the ready. Every room you pass, you sweep it for hostile targets. You're still angry – angry at how obviously unfair this test was, at how you were set up to fail – but your anger is leashed, kept under a tight control.

You're untouchable. For every move Juliet makes, you react as if she was a part of your own body, and you can almost sense the soldiers prowling around you. Things just... work. By the time you realise what's going on, you're almost at the exit. Shocked by the change in your performance, you almost falter in your advance. You almost lose your nerve.

Almost.

Rounding one last corner, you see a pair of soldiers waiting for you. Previously, you've taken them on one at a time. Never in a group. Two of them, and two of you. A rattle of wild gunfire fills the corridor as you fire, your training bullets stitching a path up one soldier as Juliet fires on the second, knocking him back a pace with a tight group of shots. Both men lower their guns slowly, disbelief spreading across their faces. You can't blame them – you can scarcely believe it yourself.

“Let's go!” Juliet snaps, bumping your shoulder with hers. Nodding, you hurry out the makeshift exit and flinch as the bright overhead lights snap on. The background noise cuts off, leaving you to tremble with exhaustion as the adrenaline leaves your body. Setting her rifle onto safe, Juliet carefully sets it down and pulls off her ear protection. “We did it,” she mutters, only to correct herself after a moment, “YOU did it.”

“We did it,” you point out, “It was a team effort.”

“Exactly so,” Fletcher agrees, descending the stairs and giving you an unreadable look, “Very good work, both of you. I think we can call that a complete success.”

The earlier humiliation is gone now. In its place, you feel a burning pride.

>Ego increased by 10
>Current Ego: 73/100

[1/2]

>>3574745

As you rest your aching body, Fletcher replays bits of footage from your successful run and comments on various things – what you did right, what was too much of a risk, what could have happened if things had been different... Most of it flies over your head, your mind too weary to take much in, but you do your best to listen. “You were faster this time. Decisive. That's the key difference. You can't hesitate in a situation like this,” he remarks, “Although realistically, you should never BE in a situation like this. You'd have allies on your side, although that can complicate matters. You'll need to be sure of who you're aiming that gun at before you pull the trigger.”

“But I can't hesitate either,” you remark, “That's a tough balancing act.”

“It is,” Fletcher agrees, “If all else fails, just shoot anything wearing UN blue. No offence, Juliet.”

Juliet shakes her head slowly, dismissing his concern.

-

“So,” Coraline purrs, “Dinner?”

“Nothing fancy,” you plead, shifting your phone from one ear to the other, “I'm in the mood for something really greasy and nasty. There's a good burger place around here, that's what I'm craving right now. It's not far from me. Can you meet me there?” You give the address, listening as Coraline repeats it back to you before hanging up. Pocketing the phone, you look back to find Fletcher studying you intensely. “What?” you ask him, “Coraline invited me out for dinner. We're getting burgers. Is that fine with you?”

“Just don't stay out too late,” he instructs, “I just got word that Doctor Bergmann is looking for you. She's eager to discuss her next research project with you... among other things, I'm sure. I'll let her know that you'll be away from HQ for a little. How do you feel about the training?”

“Like I've had the shit kicked out of me,” you reply, lifting your shirt to examine a spreading bruise on your gut, “But I gave as good as I got, huh?”

Nodding, Fletcher gestures for you to cover back up again. “Just don't let it go to your head. Foolish mistakes can cut a life short in an instant,” he warns, “Taking needless risks is all well and good in training, but the real thing...”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, waving off his concern, “Now, I'm outta here. Gotta get me some fucking burgers.”

“Have fun,” the mercenary orders.

-

Running his fingers across the dented plywood, Fletcher examines the dark wax marks left behind by training munitions. The marks form an unnaturally wide spread across the wall, as if the bullets curved away from their intended target. “Well well...” he murmurs to himself, digging out a flattened slug of wax and rolling it between his fingers, “Just how did you manage to pull off that little trick?”

[2/3]

Oh shit, Holly has an AT field.

>>3574792

Grease spots glisten under the flat fluorescent light, paper rustling as you put aside your thick burger. You thought that Coraline might hate a place like this, but she's gobbling down her burger with an undisguised pleasure. Fine dining is all well and good, but it can't beat a good bit of fast food. Wiping her fingers on a napkin and washing the last of her meal down with a swig of soda, she gives you a humble smile.

“I needed that,” she declares, “Busy day. Busy month, to be honest. How's life in NERV?”

“Tense,” you admit, “That shit with Adrian... I guess you heard about that, huh?”

“Mm, that's... not an easy thing to talk about,” Coraline offers cautiously. You give her a quizzical look, but she refused to be hurried. Thinking about her next words carefully, she leans a little closer and lowers her voice. “Nobody seems quite sure what Adrian's situation is,” she murmurs, “Your commander threw him out, correct? Our records say that, officially, he was recalled for going above his authority. The strangest thing is, people really believe that. It's not just some cover story going around. He's... a strange one. Gives me a bad feeling.”

A common thing, it seems. “What kind of bad feeling?” you ask, “Or just a general... bad feeling?”

“Bad vibes. Hey, I work in risk assessment – I know a risk when I see one,” Coraline laughs, “He just... I don't know, he seems very phony to me.”

“He told me a story once, about his time in Africa. The virtues of going against orders,” you recall, “And then, pretty much the day after, he starts pulling all this shit and claiming he's just following orders. I don't get it.”

“Africa, huh? I see how it is,” Coraline raises an eyebrow, stealing a fry from your tray and chewing on it. “He was never in Africa. That whole story was bullshit. He probably cooked it up to try and win you over, then dropped the act when it didn't work,” she continues, “Forgive me for the assumption, but... you seem like the type who doesn't place too much faith in just following orders, correct?”

>Yeah, you got that right. Orders are more like guidelines anyway
>Nah, I like to let other people do the thinking for me
>Not if the orders are coming from UN assholes, sure
>Actually... (Write in)
>Other

>>3574830
>>Not if the orders are coming from UN assholes, sure

>>3574830
>Yeah, you got that right. Orders are more like guidelines anyway. You gotta keep some initiative on the field after all.
"Depends on who it comes from though."

Respect, faith in competence, etc

>>3574797
>Are you saying I can dodge bullets?

>No Holly. I'm saying that when you're ready, you won't have to.

>>3574841
>>3574830
Yeah, all that jazz

“Yeah, I guess you've got me there. The way I see it, orders are more like “guidelines” or whatever,” you concede with a laugh, “I mean, that's how Monroe sees it too. Most of the time, she lets us make our own decisions in the field. So, she trusts us to handle shit on our end, and I... mostly trust her to handle shit on her end. Not everyone is like that, though. I bet you've known some pretty bad tyrants in your time.”

“Like Cross, you mean?” Coraline replies, wincing at the thought, “You know, he STILL sends in letters of protest every so often. Protesting about anything really, whatever he can think of at the time.”

“Yeah, well, I definitely wouldn't follow orders from an asshole like him,” you agree, sighing and shaking your head, “Whatever. So like, what do you actually think is going on with Adrian?”

Stealing another fry, Coraline considers this. “Now, I've got no proof for this, but I think he's got friends in high places. Maybe even a powerful father or something like that. Oh, but he always says that he doesn't have parents...” she pauses, “Another lie, maybe. He certainly has someone looking out for him – the way it seems to me, he's got the freedom to do whatever the hell he likes. Isn't that a comforting thought?”

“About as comforting as anything else these days,” you mutter, snapping your fingers as a thought occurs. “Fletcher asked me to ask you,” you continue, “This might be a long shot, but... the commander at the Garden was doing some shady business on the side. Have you guys been able to figure out what he was selling yet?”

Ice rattles in Coraline's drink as she swirls it. “Research data, we think. Data on the Lilim they held there, and the ADM Units themselves. Unit 05 in particular,” she offers at last, “It's not clear, but he might have even sold physical samples. It's even harder to trace the buyers. The one lead we had was a private company in Moscow, but that was just a shell. After that... I don't know, actually, things get very classified after that.”

“Oh,” you pause, “What company was it?”

“Something irritatingly vague. Some kind of import/export thing, although it was just a front. I would guess something medical – Lilim material is dangerous, but it has near limitless potential for scientific research,” she shrugs, idly fiddling with the top button of her blouse, “The UN won't touch it, of course. They're worried about what might go wrong – and, to be fair, anything could happen. The sample might mutate, turn into some kind of pathogen. One last gift from our Lilim friends.”

[1/2]

>>3574925

You nod vaguely, watching as Coraline continues to toy with her blouse button. It slips out, revealing a crescent of smooth, pale flesh, but Coraline doesn't seem to notice. “I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here,” she admits, “I wanted to give you a warning. I don't know the full story, but the UN is going to try something. Some new trick. They might already be working on it.”

“Like a budget cut?” you guess, forcing your eyes up. Monroe mentioned...

“Something rather worse than that, I should think,” the older girl suggests, “But that might be part of it. Like I said, I don't know the full details. I just wanted to warn you.” Looking away again, she begins to trace a meaningless pattern on the scuffed table. “Do you ever get... sick of it all?” she asks softly, “Not just these stupid games, but... all of it? People don't understand what we do, they don't appreciate it. Wherever you go, people like Adrian just fight for whatever scraps they can find. It never ends, does it?”

Unsure of what to say, what she expects you to say, you just shrug.

“Ah, excuse me. I didn't mean to get melancholy,” Coraline apologises quickly, “I'm just tired. They've been working me hard lately, and for no good reason. Just meaningless paperwork, pointless errands, distracting me from... well, from doing anything else. I should quit. It's not like I need the money, after all.”

“So why don't you?” you ask. In her position, you'd ditch that shit in a heartbeat. Then again, your job isn't much better, so...

“Hmm, because having nothing to do wouldn't be much better. I'd need to think of a hobby, and I've never been any good at that. At least I'm keeping busy this way, even if I'm TOO busy,” shaking her head, Coraline pushes the subject aside. “But never mind that!” she insists, “I've given you my regrettably vague warning, so I've done my duty here. What do you have planned for the day?”

What's left of it, that is. “Gotta head back to base and speak with the doc,” you reply with a shrug, “That's going to be... fun. Maybe.”

“Oh!” Coraline's eyes widen, “I didn't mean to keep you! Do you need to get going?”

>I do, yeah. I better head out
>I'm in no hurry. I wanted to talk about... (Write in)
>Other

>>3574966
>I'm in no hurry. I wanted to talk about... (Write in)
"What do you know about Juliet?"

We could bring up the doctored parents if it becomes relevant to the conversation.

>>3574966
Is she flirting with Holly?

>>3574966
>>I'm in no hurry. I wanted to talk about... (Write in)
Can they manipulate AT fields? Juliet seems like she's had a bad case of brainwashing, and I know that you can change or add memories via the doc's experiments....

>>3574980
The thing is is that we don't know how far the UN's research team has advanced down that track, we know that they have some level of competency in the area but nothing hard on the matter and them doing so would be pointless because if they were going to do everything in parallel with Bergmann they wouldn't need to steal her results.

>>3574987
Yeah they might not have the same kind of tech potentially, but it really seems like there was some kind of brainwashing involved. Like the 15 years of her growing up in Berlin as a normal teenager disappeared overnight.

Could be implanted memories?

“I'm in no hurry. Actually, I wanted to talk with you a little more,” you tell Coraline, your words causing her lips to lift in a light smile. “We've got this new girl staying with us at the moment, a UN reject. Name's Juliet Moore,” you continue, the mention of the other girl causing Coraline's smile to fade again, “What's that look for? Do you know anything about her?”

“I only know what I've read in the files, but... I don't exactly approve of how she was recruited. It was after Berlin, her parents were... you've heard all this already, haven't you?” Coraline pauses as you nod, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Well, she was vulnerable. I joined NERV willingly, and I imagine you were the same. Juliet might have had a choice, technically, but there was no real alternative for her. They... WE took someone with nothing left, and put her in a terrible job,” she continues, “So I feel bad for her, but I don't know her at all. What's she like?”

There's no easy way to put this, so you might as well just blurt it out. “She's weird as fuck. Acts like she's been brainwashed half the time,” you declare, “Like she can barely bring herself to refuse an order. That ain't normal. Is it possible that your people... did something to her?”

Coraline takes another sip of her flat soda as she considers this. “There are ways to make people... obedient... but they're not really efficient. The UN does have some research on the subject of hypnosis – probably salvaged from old US government trials way before Second Impact – but commands can only really be imprinted in the young,” she offers at last, “So if we DID do something to Juliet, we did it a long time ago. Seems unlikely to me, but what do I know?”

“What about manipulating her AT Field directly?” you press, “I don't know how this stuff works, but we all have one, even if it is like, super weak. Could it be used to... make her behave in a certain way?”

“Now that, I really don't know about. Here in the UN, we barely understand the AT Field – that's more of a NERV area. It does seem to have some relation to thoughts and emotions so... maybe?” Coraline shakes her head, “No, I really don't have much to tell you, I'm afraid. The UN research projects tend to be rather secretive, so I'm not sure exactly how much we know compared with what we admit to knowing. Your own doctors might be the same – toiling away on their own little projects, doing just enough to convince head office that they're part of the team. Like I said before, people are all the same – looking out for themselves, even at the expense of everyone else.”

She's really killing the mood here...

[1/2]

>>3575017

“You, uh, you said that you read Juliet's file,” you point out, hoping to salvage something, “Did it say anything about her life before Berlin? You know, where she went to school, what her parents did for a living, stuff like that.”

“I don't think so. There was a note that her original file was likely lost in the Berlin attack, so there's that,” Coraline replies with a blithe shrug, “Or maybe she never had a file in the first place. She could have been illegal, her parents operating under a false identity. I'm really not in any position to say. You should know one thing, though – I've heard talk of “recovering lost UN property” about the office. Nothing specific, but...”

“But it's something to keep in mind,” you agree. That could man Juliet's ADM Unit, or it could mean Juliet herself. Neither option bodes well for you.

“So that's two warnings I've given you!” Coraline declares, looking revoltingly proud of herself, “Aren't I generous? You're really going to have to treat me to something nice one of these days, you know.”

“Hey,” you point out, “I took you out for burgers, didn't I?”

>I'm feeling pretty beat, so I'm going to pause this here for today. Should be continuing tomorrow, same usual time
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3575070
Thanks for the Run.

We should tell Fletcher and Monroe what we have learned today.
We need to tell Bergmann that they know that she is doing her own research
Also is it just me or does anyone else find it weird that she can answer all of these questions off the top of her head. it almost feels like Coraline is trying to recruit us or something, as she keeps going on about how everyone else is working in their own self interest to busy working to protect their to see the big picture. You could almost say after her partner's death she has lived like a Phantom it almost feels Nihilistic in tone

>>3575087
>it almost feels like Coraline is trying to recruit us or something

She's said to Holly before that 'NERV isn't the only option' so her trying to potentially recruit has always been on the table. Adrian tanked any chance of Holly wanting to join the UN though.

There is also the chance that Caroline is referring to another organization beyond NERV *and* the UN, but that's just speculation.

>>3575070
Thanks for running. Is Fletcher consoling his soldiers about their loss? 'It's okay, I didn't know she had bullet bending powers either'

>>3574797
>>3574846
>implying it isn't Juliet with AT powers being the final Lilim

>>3575098

He told them that losing is fun

>>3575159
I don't get it

>>3575171
The carp stands up.

>>3575159
They dug too deep.

>>3574975
She's been flirting in every convo I've seen so far

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There's no easy way to describe what you're feeling right now. The emotion radiating off Doctor Bergmann is impossible, contradictory. It's a kind of angry Zen, a fury so pure and refined that it leaves her seeming serene. The look in her single eye could bore a hole through metal plate, but she casually flicks through the pages of her notebook as you linger in the doorway. “Don't just stand there,” Bergmann calls out, “Come in. Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

Now you're definitely worried. “Uh, right,” you mumble, tentatively sitting down opposite her, “You wanted to talk about... research, right?”

“Yes,” Bergmann confirms, “More specifically, the fact that our esteemed leaders have decided to lock us out of their external research archives. It's a computer error on their end, apparently. No indication of when it might be fixed. Apparently.”

“That...” you pause, lost for words, “That's a load of shit!”

“It's exactly that,” Bergmann agrees, nodding sagely. Closing her notebook with a loud snap, she sets it aside and gives you a scalding look. “It's fascinating really. They're showing just how much power they hold over us, yet at the same time they show just how powerless, how insecure, they really are,” the doctor continues, “I was discussing this with Claudia earlier. She seemed endlessly intrigued by the idea. You, I think, are less enthralled.”

Slumping back in your chair, you shake your head. “I just want this all to stop,” you admit, “So... what? We've lost all our research?”

“It's not that bad. We've lost access to a great deal of older material, but we still have our own files. Like... this,” Bergmann sifts through the papers on her desk, eventually pulling out a set of charts. More brainwaves, like the ones Yulia was collecting for her project. “These are from your last battle,” Bergmann explains, pointing to a spike in the readings, “This disturbance came during the battle. Did anything strange happen?”

Your ADM tried to rouse itself. That was kind of a thing. Shrugging, you gesture for Bergmann to continue. “I suspect that your Unit came close to berserking, but you managed to restrain it. Of course, this is the real highlight,” Bergmann points instead to a second spike, this one far stronger than the first, “This marks the moment when Juliet entered the area. You see how your ADM Unit reacted to her? There is a reason that a pair of units is the ideal number.”

“Right,” you agree with a cynical smile, “I'm sure that's the only reason.”

“You're always so suspicious,” Bergmann muses, smiling ambiguously to herself.

[1/2]

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>>3576710

“But really, the pair bond is a sacred thing. A miraculous thing,” the doctor continues, something akin to religious awe creeping into her voice, “By coming together, man and woman can create new life. Two weak AT Fields combine, and a new one is created. A new soul, created from nothing. There is no loss on the part of the parents, but this new life emerges nonetheless. Impossible, by any other means. Miracles can happen, Holly... even if we need to give them a little help sometimes.”

An uneasy silence follows this. It stretches out for a minute, then a second, before you clear your throat. “So...” you begin, “Can we begin a new research project?”

“Oh yes, certainly!” Bergmann announces, clapping her hands together and dismissing... everything else. Tapping a few keys on her keyboard, she brings up the current state of her research. It's all leading to something, but you don't know what. NERV's objective, or her own personal goal?

“We have some new ideas for enhancing your weapons, as well as a refinement of your natural AT abilities. I'm sure Diane will tell you not to push yourself too hard, but I know you can handle this,” the doctor continues, “So what do you say?”

>AT Bunker: Half incoming Integrity damage. Cost: Ego equal to damage reduced
>Close combat training 2: Gain a further +10 to close combat attack rolls
>Close combat damage: Increase base close combat damage by 2
>Ranged combat damage: Increase base ranged combat damage by 2

“And I get to choose which one?” you ask, quite unnecessarily. You know how this works already, but you like to make sure. Studying the computer screen again, you decide on...

>AT Bunker
>Close combat training 2
>Close combat damage
>Ranged combat damage

>>3576712
In this system *objectively* the best build is ranged with all the Kaori damage and roll bonuses. Incredible damage at any range to end fights quickly. However Kaori won't always be available and melee is what we've been leaning towards since the start.

>Close combat training 2

>>3576712
>AT Bunker: Half incoming Integrity damage. Cost: Ego equal to damage reduced
DETERMINATION

>>3576727
The best defense is a good offense in this system

>>3576712
>>Close combat training 2
When we finally go berserker mode I want maximum rip and tear

>>3576712
>Close combat damage

>Closing this vote here. Looks like we're going with close combat training 2. We'll have the chance to upgrade again soon enough, though!

>Close combat training 2 acquired!

“I figure I'll stick with what I know,” you suggest, nodding towards the screen, “Close combat training. How soon will that be up and running?”

“It won't take long. Even with our... budget issues, the Trimurti system is being kept running at full capacity. It won't take long to push through the update,” Bergmann assures you, looking to the screen and letting out a wistful sigh. “We're making progress, aren't we?” she murmurs, “It doesn't matter how many hurdles they throw in our path. We'll make our way to paradise eventually – even if we have to build it with our own hands.”

“Uh...” you pause, “Are you feeling okay, doc?”

Bergmann looks back around to you. “I'm quite fine,” she replies, “Just lost in thought, that's all.”

Coraline's words come back to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Hey, look, you gotta be careful with this research stuff,” you warn, “The UN probably knows that you're up to something. Coraline was talking about it today – apparently their own scientists are the same, more focused on their own personal projects than what's really important. Whatever that is. So I dunno. Just be careful, okay?”

“I'm always careful,” Bergmann assures you, her smile as cold as midwinter.

-

“So Coraline thinks that unknown parties may have bought research materials, even samples, from the Garden,” Fletcher muses, tapping one finger against his forehead, “And she thinks the UN might be planning something. That certainly fits with what we're seeing here – the budget cuts, the research block... they're showing us just how much we can lose.”

“They'll get in contact with us soon. They'll offer to give us back everything we've lost. Hell, they might even throw in a little extra,” the commander suggests, “Just so long as we do them one little favour. Maybe they'll ask for Juliet's ADM back – they might even ask for Juliet too.”

A cold silence greets this. “If they did...” you ask carefully, “Would you do it?”

Monroe hesitates, biting her lip. “I would be willing to give them the ADM Unit,” she answers at last, “But not Juliet herself. That girl needs a stable home – it's not fair for her to be passed around like an unwanted gift. We can get by with the ADM Units we currently have, but we still need access to the UN's resources. We'd need to make some kind of deal with them. It's just a case of finding some kind of acceptable compromise.”

“But let us worry about that,” Fletcher continues, “You've got enough to deal with. It's a school day tomorrow, isn't it?”

“Man...” you groan, “Can't I have the day off? I'm still sore from all that training.”

“Fletcher...” Monroe growls, giving the mercenary a hard look, “What did I tell you about pushing her too hard?”

It's not often that you see the mercenary looking worried.

[1/2]

>>3576776
>“I would be willing to give them the ADM Unit,” she answers at last, “But not Juliet herself.
That's a dumb idea. Without an ADM, Juliet is dead weight.


Hey, where's the UN HQ? If they're going to underfund us, maybe we should show them how much more they need us.

>>3576796
I don't know about that. Juliet's the key for AT-field disruption, not the ADM unit.

Given that Holly is exhibiting pilot-level AT tricks, Juliet might not be so useless.

>>3576796
>If they're going to underfund us, maybe we should show them how much more they need us.
I enjoyed Pearl Harbor as much as the next guy my dude, but let's not get ahead of ourselves

>>3576796
if you don't feel conferable with Monroe's decision whenever we get around to talking to Juliet next, we may want to make sure she is ok with being separated from her Unit, and if she disagrees with said course of action she should talk to Monroe so if Monroe needs to make that decision they are on the same page.

>>3576776

Even in your sleep that night, you're still running through Fletcher's training course. This time, in your dreams, you see it as the real thing – the familiar HQ corridors, not his plywood facsimile. There's no shooting, at least, although you can't shake the feeling that violence is never far behind you. It's a game of cat and mouse, with your hunter – or is it your prey? - never revealing itself. Woken by your alarm, you already feel exhausted.

Breakfast. The meal is rowdy, with the others continuing some conversation that you're not privy to. Nate looks sullen, irritated by the last minute cancellation of her move to Temple – thanks to another one of the UN's tricks, her security clearance has been left unresolved and it's unclear when, if ever, it might get granted. Seeking to cheer her up, you lean across the table. “So hey,” you call out, “How was the picnic yesterday? Did you go anywhere nice?”

“It was pretty good. We just went to the park though. I mean like, where else would we go?” Nate replies, “Claudia wanted to go up into the hills, but it's still off limits. I guess it might be radioactive or something? Either way, they're not taking any chances.”

“Claudia,” you remark, looking across to the heiress, “What the fuck?”

“I wanted to see the crater,” she stresses, “It doesn't look very large on TV, does it? I thought it might be a little more impressive in person, but we're going not going to get the chance to find out, aren't we?”

“People DIED up there, Claudia. Kaori could have...” you begin, only to give up with a sigh. You really should know better than to try and talk some sense into her. Looking across to where the TV plays on mute, you watch the news pass by in silence for a moment. “Do we know how many died?” you ask softly, “Roughly?”

Kaori shakes her head, clumsily lifting a piece of toast to her mouth. She can use her hands again, at least, although it'll be a while before she's back to optimal condition. “They're having trouble identifying who might have been on the hills at the time,” she explains, “And... the Lilim didn't leave any bodies.”

You've got to wonder, is that better or worse? At least a body might offer some measure of closure. As you ponder on this, the group starts to break up and go their separate ways. School for most of you, although Juliet is going to be remaining behind. She's not enrolled anywhere here, you assume, and the school likely wouldn't take too kindly to a random stranger forcing her way into class.

“Better make a move too. You don't want to be late, do you?” Claire whispers to you, “Gonna pair up with someone?”

>I'm walking with you, of course
>Screw it, I'm staying here with Juliet
>I might go with... (Who?)
>Other

>>3576824
>>I might go with... (Who?)
We've haven't hung out with Nate much, iirc.

>>3576829
>>3576824
Sure. Seconded.

>inb4 we try to cheer her up and she says something from our memories and we get all awkward for the next week again.

>>3576824
>>3576829
Supporting.
We should see what Claire she thinks of what is going on. Do we even know what Class she is in?
We can catch up with the others at lunch.

>>3576824
>Hang out with Yulia. Did anyone even comment when SHE started going to school?

>>3576824
>>I might go with... (Who?)
Claudia

>>3576824
>>>I might go with... (Who?)
Claudia

“Hey Nate, want to walk together?” you ask, leaning across the table to her, “You're not gonna be walking with Vic, are you?”

“Nah, he left early. What a dork, right? It's not like school is going anywhere,” chuckling to herself, Nate glances up at the clock and yelps, “But we need to be going! Like, now!” Jamming one last piece of toast in her mouth, she runs out of the dorm and leaves you to follow hastily after her. You catch up with her at the elevators, the younger girl impatiently tapping her foot as she waits for the lift to arrive. “Typical,” she jokes, glancing back, “It's like, hurry up and wait. That's an army thing, right? I heard Fletch say it once. That kind of army slang is so funny. Like, whiskey tango foxtrot!”

“Affirmative,” you reply with a laugh. You forgot just how much Nate can talk, seemingly without ever needing to breathe in. “What even IS a foxtrot?” you add after a moment, “Like, some kind of dance?”

“Ask Fletcher,” Nate suggests, “Although he doesn't seem like the dancing type to me...” The elevator arrives with a soft chime, and you step inside. As it ascends towards the surface, Nate hums softly to herself. “So Juliet is... okay,” she offers, “I had a really bad feeling about her at first, but if Kaori is cool with her then I guess it's fine. I was poking around in her room earlier, though, and it was like, super depressing. No decoration at all, and all her clothes are the same. Plain shirts and skirts, and all this super boring white underwear.” A pause. “Don't ask why I was looking in her underwear drawer,” Nate pleads, “Just don't.”

“Nate,” you assure her gravely, “I don't even WANT to know.”

“Hey,” Claire whispers as Nate lets out a sigh of relief, “I want to know!” You shush her hurriedly, checking to see if Nate heard. The younger girl pays you no mind, simply rocking back and forth on her heels as she waits for the elevator to reach the surface. Even so, you feel the need to change the subject before things can get dangerous. What to talk about, though?

The girl of the hour, perhaps. “Juliet might be staying with us for a while longer. The UN might want her back, but Monroe said she was going to try and keep her with us,” you remark, “They can take her ADM, but Juliet stays here.”

Nate considers this. “I don't really get all this stuff,” she admits eventually, “But like, Juliet's gotta be better off here, right? She seems happier now, don't you think?”

“How can you even tell?” Claire whispers again, smirking faintly to herself. Again, you hush her with a jab from your elbow. Hurrying out, you have to step around the soldiers lingering nearby. There are more of them than normal, but... maybe this IS normal now.

It's going to take some getting used to.

[1/2]

>>3576884

Early morning fatigue sets in during your second class of the day, the warmth from the window only adding to your torpor. Resting your head on your hand, you stare out the window and leave your mind to wander. Yulia joined your school at short notice, you recall, so maybe Juliet could do the same. Strings can always be pulled. Although, would she really appreciate it? Maybe she's perfectly happy to stay back at HQ while the rest of you are gone, although you wonder what she gets up to on her own. It leaves an uneasy feeling in your stomach, but you can imagine her sitting on the edge of her bed and just... staring into space. Waiting until someone comes along and gives her an order.

Closing your eyes, you try to picture it. Instead, a completely different scene forms in your mind. You see...

-

Karina's room is never really silent, with the constant hum and chime of machines, but it can be quiet. It's quiet now, with the soft footsteps barely carrying at all. Karina stands in the kitchen, leaning stubbornly against the counter as she waits for a kettle to boil. Her wheelchair waits nearby, a constant reminder of her weakness. Juliet approaches, reaching out to touch the sickly girl on the shoulder. Jolting upright, Karina lets out a stifled scream and nearly falls. Turning, she braces herself against the wall and whimpers softly.

“Juliet, you frightened me!” she scolds, “I thought... well, never mind that. What are you doing down here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Juliet answers quietly, “We're the same, you and I.”

“We are?” Karina looks puzzled, “Well, I suppose we're both stuck here. I'm not really supposed to go out much. Was that what you meant? I'm afraid that I don't really understand-”

“You don't remember anything, do you? We've lost everything, even our pasts,” Juliet explains, her voice low and flat, “We're alone here, both of us.”

Shakily lowering herself into her wheelchair, Karina reaches out to touch Juliet's arm. “I'm not alone,” she states firmly, “And neither are you. No matter where you go, we're all connected now.”

Those words fade out, and you crack open one eye to see the classroom around you. At the front of the room, your teacher drones on and on. “The body can never be truly separated from the soul,” he lectures, his voice somehow different from normal, “A body without a soul must surely decay and collapse. We remain trapped within these flawed, imperfect bodies. If the soul could somehow safely leave the body, it might travel anywhere and witness anything. But does anyone know how such a thing could be done? Holly, do you know? Holly?”

-

“Holly?” a sharp voice calls out, “Holly, wake up!” Jolting upright, you look around in alarm. The whole class is staring at you, the teacher giving you a look of both disapproval and concern. “I'm glad to see you're still with us,” the teacher remarks drily, “Now turn to page...”

[2/3]

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>>3576948

>>3576948

Lunch. Normally, you might head to the roof, but you don't feel like meeting up with everyone today. You've got one hell of a headache, and the whole gang might just be too much for you. Instead, you take a wander into the gardens. The overwhelming scent of flowers almost makes you change your mind, but you persist. It's quiet, at least. Nobody else seems to be about, although you can hear the soft rustle of footsteps on grass. Peering around the corner of a beautifully sculpted hedge, you spot Claudia behaving in a remarkably strange fashion.

The heiress struts back and forth across the lawn, chopping and cutting at imaginary targets with the long stick she holds. Her hair flies back and forth, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her brow, but her face is set in a smile of genuine delight. Swishing through one last series of flamboyant motions, she raises the stick in a formal salute and then turns your way. You start to draw back, but too late. Your eyes meet, and a terrible silence falls across the garden. Even the lazily humming bees seem to fall silent.

Claudia's eyes bulge with an embarrassed fury, the stick trembling as she tightens her grip on it. You've got to do something, but...

>Discretion is the better part of valour. Get the hell out of here
>You've got a better idea... (Write in)
>Other

>>3576983
>You've got a better idea... (Write in)
Wordlessly pick up another stick and hold it like a sword. Let battle be joined.

>>3576983
>>3576995
we're going to suck against someone trained, even if it was only fencing. Still, sounds like fun. Let's do it.

>>3576995
Supporting
Siri, play Duel of Fates

Thinking fast, you stoop down and grab another stick from the ground. It looks like a fallen branch of some kind, probably cut from one of the bushes, but it's too thin to really do any harm. You won't be breaking anyone's head open with it, at least. Leaping back to your feet, you wordlessly brandish the stick at Claudia. Her jaw drops, a dark rush of blood heating up her cheeks, but then she seems to reach some kind of conclusion. With an almost resigned shrug, she raises her own stick to meet your challenge.

Springing forwards, you swipe at her with the branch. She blocks your blow, stray grass clippings thrown up by the clash of blades. Pushing back and spinning away from you, Claudia quickly reverses and launches into a flurry of jabs and sweeps. They're fancy moves, the sort that leaves wide gaps in her guard, but you're too busy defending to capitalise on them. “Is that the best you can do?” she jeers, “You fight like a dairy farmer!”

“Well you fight like a... a...” you fumble for something to say, “Like a great big idiot!”

“That's not right!” Claudia complains, giving you a stinging blow to the shoulder, “You're supposed to say... oh, forget it!” Bringing her blade down again, she knocks you back a few paces and leaps back. Breathing heavily, she sweeps her sword through the air in an intricate pattern before dashing forwards. You meet her charge, drawing back your own blade and striking out at her. Metal clashes, sparks fly, and-

With a pathetic snap, the sticks both snap against each other, leaving you both holding tiny stumps of wood. Claudia looks down in surprised silence before a wild burst of laughter escapes her. You laugh as well, throwing the broken branch aside and sitting down on the grass. “So hey,” you remark, “You never told me you knew how to fence.”

“That?” Claudia laughs, “That wasn't fencing. The only “teacher” I had was a great stack of videotapes – classic swashbucklers. Father had a collection, and I'd watch them whenever it rained. Then, when the weather was better, I would find something to act as a sword and just... play. Hester would join in sometimes, but she always let me win. It feels like years since I've done it, but when I saw that branch lying there...”

“Just couldn't help yourself, huh?” you joke, “Don't worry, I'll keep your secret.”

“Please do,” she stresses, “I have a reputation to consider, after all.”

As she sits down beside you, you catch a glimpse of someone completely different – a Claudia that could have been, carefree and joyful without the cynicism that you've grown to expect from her. It's sad, in a way, to think that the others won't be able to see her this way. Maybe you should have tried filming her. Then again, if she had seen you with your phone out... well, she might have cracked that stick of hers over your head, not against your own weapon.

Totally worth it though.

[1/2]

>>3577045

After your lunchtime dalliance, the rest of your day seems to slip past quickly. All the while, you consider the questions you heard. A body must have a soul, or it would collapse. Therefore, the soul remains anchored to the body. How, then, could a soul travel abroad and return to an intact vessel?

It couldn't, of course, and you're placing way too much importance on a dream. You were thinking about what Juliet might do back at HQ, so it's hardly surprising that she might creep into your dreams. If you really want to make sure, you can just ask her when you get back to HQ. She'll tell you that she just stayed in her room all day, and then you'll feel silly for getting worked up over nothing.

-

True enough, Juliet is sitting at the dining table when you arrive back at the dorm. Not quite her bedroom, but you were close. “I didn't do much today,” she tells you, answering your opening query, “There was a science program on television, I watched that. It was about radio telescopes.” Juliet says nothing after that, and you turn away with a sigh of relief. “Oh,” she adds as an afterthought, the lone syllable causing a dead weight to settle in the pit of your stomach, “I visited Karina. We had tea.”

Of course she did. Of COURSE they did. As you sit perfectly still, pondering on the implications of this, a knock at the door distracts you. Looking gratefully around, you call out a greeting and Cam enters. She looks nervous, on edge, but she tries hard not to show it. “Hey Cam,” you begin, waving to her, “Strange to see you up here. Need help with something?”

“Sort of. It's... Hello Juliet. Nice seeing you again,” Cam runs a distracted hand through her short hair, “Fancy a sleepover down in Karina's room tonight? I know that the budget is tight, but I could probably find some money for snacks. It's a real pain in the ass to call for a pizza, but...”

“A sleepover? That sounds fun,” Claudia drawls, “I don't see why not. But come now, why don't you tell us the rest of it?”

Cam lets out a sigh. “I just wanted someone to stay with Karina tonight. I've got business outside, so I can't be there for her. I know Doctor Weick is available, but... I think she'd prefer you guys. You know what to do if there's an emergency, don't you?” the guard asks, “Really, she just needs someone there to keep an eye on her. I just thought you all might want to make the most of the opportunity.”

>Yeah, that sounds like fun!
>I'd rather have a quiet night in
>I've got a question... (Write in)
>Other

>>3577100
>Yeah, that sounds like fun!

Honestly starting to think that Holly has two souls floating around her or something. Maybe her's and Claire's. Could maybe explain why Holly's mom doesn't consider Holly her daughter.

>>3577100
>>>Yeah, that sounds like fun!

>>3577100
>>Yeah, that sounds like fun!

>>3577111
>not 11 souls

>>3577100
>Yeah, that sounds like fun!
We may want to see if we can get a spare set of the Syringe's just in case
Also i wonder if we can influence scrying. before we go too bed we should think about Adrian or Coralineto see what are doing if it works we may be able to figure out it's limitations.

Maybe it's just the nap you took in class, but you don't feel very tired right now. A sleepover might be pretty fun, even if Karina's quarters aren't exactly peak comfy. Throw a few sleeping bags down and it might be okay, but...

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” you tell Cam, noting with interest as the guard lets out a sigh of relief. She really was getting stressed out over this. “I'm pretty curious, though,” you add, “What is this-”

“I can't tell you,” Cam interrupts, holding up a hand to silence you, “I'm sorry, but I can't talk about it. I'm going to be out of contact tonight, and that's all I can tell you. Please understand my position.”

Spooky military stuff, then. Sometimes you forget she's a soldier and not just Karina's babysitter. “No worries,” you assure her, “We'll look after Karina, but only because you're offering snacks!”

Flashing you a grateful smile, Cam turns and hurries out of the dorm.

-

An hour later, you all meet up down in Karina's den. A heavy curtain hides her bed from view – or, more accurately, it hides the imposing medical apparatus – and a number of sleeping bags have been prepared for you. As promised, the kitchen is filled with food and drink, mostly of the unhealthy variety. You feel a little bad looking at all the treats – with her delicate stomach, Karina herself can't eat most of this stuff.

“I feel like the odd one out,” Vic admits with a nervous laugh, “Like I'm not supposed to be here.”

“Nonsense,” Hester assures him, patting his arm gently, “You're more than welcome here.”

“Just don't get any funny ideas,” Claudia adds in a warning tone, “If I wake up in the middle of the night and find you unzipping my sleeping bag, I'm chopping your hands off.” Laughing merrily, she turns away and starts to sort through the food. “My, we're all going to be sick to our stomachs if we eat all of this,” she muses, “We won't be able to fit in our plugsuits either... although mine always was a little tight.”

Claire lets out a quiet snort of laughter. “Oh, have I mentioned that I have a large chest today?” she murmurs, feigning a snooty English accent, “I have? Well, let me mention it again.”

“Jealous?” you tease, nudging her with your elbow. Looking away as Claire scoffs, you crack open a can of soda and take a deep sip. “Right, so what do we do now?” you ask, gesturing to the whole group, “This is my first time, so I don't really know what these things involve. Do we... play games? Watch TV?”

“I think we just sit around and talk,” Kaori offers, sounding equally uncertain, “In other words, we do the same kind of thing that we always do. Just down here instead of up there.”

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun!” Karina declares, clapping eagerly.

[1/2]

>>3577143

With chirpy pop music playing in the background – Karina's choice – you lean across the low table and grab a fresh can of drink. You start to say something, only for Kaori to open her mouth at the same time. Fumbling for a moment, each of you gesturing for the other to speak, you take a determined drink. With your mouth full, Kaori is forced to act first. “I had a question for you, Juliet,” she asks, her tone carefully polite, “This might seem a little vague, but... how do you do it?”

“The thing with the AT Field,” you guess, “That's what we're talking about, right? Not gonna lie, I'm curious too.”

Kaori nods, giving Juliet a curious look. A frown crosses Juliet's face as she searches for the right words. “I solve equations,” she says eventually, “I concentrate on the target, and I think of an equation. I solve it, and that neutralises the AT Field.” A pause. “I can't write the equations out,” she adds, “I've tried. Even though I can see them in my head, I just... can't reproduce them.”

Another pause. “So like, while everyone else is fighting and stuff, you're doing math problems?” Nate asks, “Neeeeeerd!”

“It's not like that!” Juliet protests, “It's... not something I can explain, so please, no more questions. At least bother someone else!”

“Why don't YOU ask US something?” Karina prompts, “You could get to know us a little better!”

Juliet opens her mouth, then quickly closes it again as she fails to find something to talk about. “You were at school today,” she asks eventually, “Did you do anything interesting?”

“Uh...” Nate laughs awkwardly, “I had a pretty good slice of cake at lunch, does that count?”

“It was poetry day in English Lit,” Kaori adds with a weary sigh, “I hate poetry day. If I ever want to write something in the most obtuse way possible, I'll be sure to ask a poet for help.” She reaches for a small bag of chips, but her hands are shaking too badly for her to open them. With an indulgent smile, Claudia takes the bag from her and easily rips it open, passing it back. “Thank you,” Kaori murmurs, taking the lapse in stride, “I'm still not fully recovered yet. These things take time. Well, enough about me. Holly, what did you do today?”

Claudia shoots you a warning look in passing before looking away in deliberate disinterest.

>I think I slept through most of the day, actually
>Well, I had a sword fight with Claudia...
>You know, Juliet, I had a dream about you today
>Today... (Write in)
>Other

>>3577176
>>You know, Juliet, I had a dream about you today

Might as well lead into it even if it sounds really out there. The others might give some insight?

>>3577176
>You know, Juliet, I had a dream about you today
I wonder what Secret Squirrel Bullshit Cam's off doing now.
Anyone else feel that when Holly goes to sleep she is going to see her dieJust like Wilson.

>>3577176
>Slept mostly
>You know, Juliet, I had a dream about you today

Totally not going to come off as creepy.

>>3577176
>>I think I slept through most of the day, actually

“Well, uh, I think I slept most of the day,” you admit, wincing at how utterly uninteresting that must sound. So, with a wicked grin, you nod across the table. “You know, Juliet,” you remark, “I had a dream about you today.” This is met with a stunned silence. Then Claudia lets out a low whistle, and Nate laughs nervously. Juliet herself meets this with an impassive face. Only her eyes widen a little, the kind of tiny expression that you've come to expect from her. “Okay, sorry, couldn't resist,” you admit, holding your hands up, “But it wasn't a total joke. I did actually have this weird dream.”

“I read a book about dream interpretation once,” Vic quips, “It should have been in the fiction section.”

“Hush, you,” Claudia scolds, reaching across to slap him lightly on the arm.

“So, I dreamed about this place. Juliet, you were here,” you continue, watching as Karina freezes, “You walked up behind Karina and gave her one hell of a fright. Then you talked for a while, and she told you...”

“That we were all connected,” Juliet finishes for you, her voice low and flat. Then, reaching up, she massages her brow as if warding off a migraine. “What exactly are you suggesting?” she asks, lowering her hand so that your eyes can meet, “That you somehow... knew what we were talking about?”

Nate lets out a nervous laugh, but Kaori gestures for her to be patient. “I mean, I thought it was just a dumb dream at the time. It didn't seem real – you were talking in this weird, awkward way,” you explain, “But I guess that's pretty much normal for you two.”

“Should I be feeling insulted right now?” Karina asks mildly, giving you a polite smile. You just shrug. “Well, I suppose you might have a point,” the sickly girl continues, “I can't exactly explain how this is possible, but I believe you. I even have an idea of how you did it. A theory! Theories are good, aren't they?” Pausing, she gives you all a bright smile. Her question is met with very little in the way of enthusiasm, but she carries on regardless. “Imagine the ocean,” Karina begins, “Well, not THE ocean. An ocean that covers everything, absolutely everything. Also it's not made out of water.”

“So, not the ocean at all,” Claire mutters, rolling her eyes, “This is gonna be so lame...”

“It's an ocean of thought. A kind of background noise of human emotion and ah... presence. Human existence as a whole,” Karina gestures vaguely, “What you did is, you sent your mind out onto that ocean like it was a ship. You sailed here, although maybe you didn't mean to. Maybe it just happened.”

“But if I sent my mind, my soul, out here...” you hear yourself ask, the words coming unbidden to your lips, “How did my body remain intact?”

Karina blinks once, twice. “I'm sorry,” she admits, “I really don't know what you're talking about now.”

[1/2]

>>3577276
>“But if I sent my mind, my soul, out here...” you hear yourself ask, the words coming unbidden to your lips, “How did my body remain intact?”

Cause there was another soul or souls 'holding down the fort' so to speak. At least that's my theory.

>>3577276
>What exactly are you suggesting?” she asks, lowering her hand so that your eyes can meet, “That you somehow... knew what we were talking about?”
My guess is that it's related to her work in 05. With our AT field apparently somewhat functional outside an ADM, when we tried to imagine HQ, we "sent out ship" over on a thread from Karina, thus us seeing that instead.

>>3577283
That neatly answers that question alarmly well.

>>3577276

You look around the table, hoping to see some glimmer of understanding. Nate looks confused, while Kaori frowns as she considers your words. Yulia keeps opening her mouth as if to say something, only to think better of it and remain silent. Claudia has already lost interest, instead working her way through a thick slice of coffee cake, and Hester has busied herself with cleaning up. Vic's expression offers the closest thing to understanding that you can find, so you focus on him. “Well?” you press, “What do you think?”

“I... think you should probably go back a little and explain your theory a little more,” he replies, “What do you mean about your body?”

“Without a soul to give it form, the body breaks down. That's what I was told,” you insist stubbornly, a note of doubt already creeping into your voice, “Although... I don't know who told it to me. I... thought I recognised the voice, but now I'm not so sure. I don't know, maybe-”

“Maybe that part WAS a dream. A real dream, I mean,” Vic suggests with a shrug, “I don't know either. Maybe this isn't the wisest course of action to take, but if you really want more information here, you might need to experiment a little. See if you can repeat the process.” Shaking his head, he lets out a low and disbelieving laugh. “I can't believe we're actually talking about this, though,” the young man admits, “This is just so insane.”

“Ah yes, where our normal line of work is just so dull and mundane,” Claudia points out, “We've passed through portals into some hellish negative dimension. I'm prepared to accept a little astral projection – but be warned, Holly, I won't appreciate it if you start using this to spy on me in the shower.”

You all laugh at this, although the mood seems a little forced. As if to change the subject, Karina claps her hands together. “Well, this has been very interesting!” she announces, sounding genuinely sincere about that, “But it's almost time for the new episode of Cutie Sniper. We can all watch it together, won't that be nice?”

Talk about a sudden change in direction.

-

Hours later, you lie somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The others, you think, are all asleep. Maybe not everyone – you've heard faint movements, but you couldn't summon up the energy to raise your head and check. It's like you've sunk into a state of sleep paralysis, your body remaining inert as your mind drifts in and out of formless half-dreams. You're thinking about Vic's suggestion. Experiment. Repeat the process. What process, though? All you can do is what feels right, feels natural. Just lie back, relax, and...

And feel yourself leave your body behind.

>Okay, I think I'm going to take a pause here. I'll continue this tomorrow, aiming for the same usual time
>Sorry for the delays today!

>>3577322
Seems like we are way more lucid in doing this projection now. This'll be interesting.

Thanks for running.

>>3577283
>>3577298
Reminder that Holly's brain waves look like it has two separate lines on it.

>>3577331
Bergmann also said it was what she expected.

>>3577331
That's because we're as smart as two people

>>3577322
Hey man, don't timeskip the episode of Cutie Sniper. Not cool.

>>3577322
Is it time for Holly to isekai into fantasy land?

>>3578370
>partway through season protagonist gets isaki-ed into completely different show.

File: HollyR.png (375 KB, 900x700)

375 KB PNG

When it happens, it comes as such a shock that you nearly fall right back into your body. You're looking down at yourself, you realise, looking down at your own face pinching with concentration. In that moment, you recall every story you've ever read about out of body experiences, near death experiences, all that crap. Nonsense stories spun for tabloid rags, you always thought, but now? Now, you can believe them. Some of them, at least. No heavenly choirs or divine presences yet.

Your awareness spreads wider, first homing in on the faint movements you heard earlier. Most of the others are asleep, just as you thought, but Juliet is awake. She sits at the low table, tapping out a sequence of numbers on the wood. Two taps, then a pause. Four taps, then a pause. Eight taps, then a pause... you could go mad, concentrating on it for too long. As if you were leaning in to whisper in her ear, you draw close to Juliet and immediately recoil. When you approached her, the scenery changed from Karina's tasteless decorations to a more traditional “home”. A thought, a dream, a memory... whatever Juliet is thinking about, you just saw a glimpse of it.

Recoiling again, you fall back towards the ceiling. Things blur out, and then you're standing – sort of – in Commander Monroe's quarters. The commander herself is still here, carefully applying make-up with the aid of a small mirror. She's looking too fancy for this to be a regular night, but not quite fancy enough for this to be a date. Besides, you think to yourself with wan amusement, Monroe probably doesn't go on many dates.

Even as you feel a flush of guilt, you laugh at this. As if hearing something, Monroe pauses halfway through applying her lipstick, listening carefully before giving a tiny shrug and returning to her work. One phrase drifts across her mind, the words coloured with a kind of cynical amusement - “peace talks”.

Enough of this. Driven by a superstitious fear of the unknown, you feel yourself pulled back down to your body. Soon enough, you find yourself staring down upon yourself once more. No matter how many times, it's always going to seem strange. Lying atop your sleeping back, dressed in a loose T-shirt that reaches down to your knees, you look... vulnerable. You look pale, a sheen of sweat glistening on your brow, but Claire has pressed in close to huddle against you. It's like she's keeping you safe, protecting you against a danger she has no understanding of. Her hair has fallen across her face, and you yearn for a physical body to brush the strands away. But, of course, you can do no such thing.

You leave again, a ghost ship sailing on an ocean of thought.

[1/2]

>>3578794

Further down the hall, you stop by Bergmann's lap. She's looking neater than normal as well, her casual clothing sitting poorly against her rigid frame. She's not used to wearing such things, you guess. That much is obvious, even without skimming any thoughts from the surface of her mind. Even if you wanted to, there's nothing for you to find. Trying to get through Bergmann's defences is like trying to cling onto sheet glass – no matter what you do, your grip just slides off. Still, at least you have a good guess of who Monroe is sharing her “peace talks” with.

But there's something else. A sense of urgency that drifts down from somewhere above. If you're on an ocean, then there's a storm brewing. You ascend, and soon you discover why. A helicopter waits on the roof, armed soldiers lingering around it as they check over their gear. Most of them are like Bergmann, their minds practically repelling you.

“Because their hearts are closed off,” something murmurs, “They have closed off their hearts to protect themselves from what must be done.”

One soldier stands apart from the others. You hone in on Cam, sensing the restless unease that fills her mind. She's confused – about why she was chosen to go on this mission, and what the mission itself will demand – but the questions remain at the edge of her thoughts. Seeking distraction, she busies herself with a final check of her weapons. Then she jolts back to full alertness, a new arrival causing her to snap to attention.

“Check your gear. We leave in two minutes,” Fletcher announces, “This needs to be a clean op, nothing-” He stops here, looking about with hard, suspicious eyes. He looks right at you, right through you, and then-

“Sir?” Cam asks, “Something wrong?”

Fletcher shakes his head. “That's a negative, Merril,” he replies firmly, “We're all good here.”

Pulling back, you start to retreat back to your body. You've tested this out, you've learned something here today, and now it's time to put an end to it. Best to end it now before you go too far and get in trouble, although...

Although a little more can't hurt, can it?

>Enough is enough. Return to your body and rest
>Follow along with Cam on her operation
>Join Monroe and Bergmann on their “peace talks”
>Focus on Juliet and her visions of home
>Other

>>3578796
>Follow along with Cam on her operation
Someone's going to have to break the news to Karina

>>3578796
>>Join Monroe and Bergmann on their “peace talks”

>>3578796
>>Join Monroe and Bergmann on their “peace talks”

I'm a little nervous about following Can cause that might take us too far from our body in this initial test. Proximity might not be an issue but we should probably play it safe.

>>3578796
>Follow along with Cam

I assume whatever's important going on between Bergmann and Monroe, we will hear about it anyway.

>>3578796
>Enter the Communion Room. See if you can't trace Seele now that you can float through walls and stuff.
>Or try to exercise the power. Can you lift stuff like you're casper?

>>3578796
>follow Cam

We don't want to see bergs and Monroe lez out

>>3578796
>>Join Monroe and Bergmann on their “peace talks”
Too far, too fast.

>Claire holding us while we're away
I guess she is the reason we have a body to come back to. If we're gone for long enough, I wonder if she'd, er, make sure everything still works.

>>3578796
>>Follow along with Cam

Two minutes, Fletcher said, two minutes until they leave on whatever mission he has planned. Counting the seconds, you sink deep down into the bowels of the base and make for the communion room. As you drift over, you try everything you can think of to test the limits of your abilities here. Passing close by to a passing engineer, you can't even cause his loose jacket to stir. A chewed ballpoint pen sitting precariously on the edge of a table is too much for you to move. You'll have to keep experimenting, but the poltergeist shit will have to wait for another day.

Entering the communion room, you feel the ghosts of old sensations tugging at you. The statues have an oily feel to them, layers of scheming and lying having built up a kind of psychic pollution. It's not possible to gleam individual details from the morass, although you do catch a taste of personality. 04 is cold and precise, a taste like metal in your mouth, while 02 offers a hint of sadness – which, apparently, tastes a little like the smell of pipe tobacco. 01 and 03 are similar, a gritty feeling of both determination and resignation. 05 offers nothing – it's been too long since that statue was in use.

Time's up. Flying skywards, you blur through layers of concrete and armour and return to the room. You're not quite on time, although you can soar up into the helicopter easily enough regardless. As the helicopter rises, and as you rise with it, you focus on how you're feeling. Searching for any kind of weakness, anything that might warn about straying dangerously far from your body. Whether that's a real concern or not remains unclear, but you're not taking any chances here.

Inside the helicopter, Fletcher is giving his team a curt briefing. “Our target is Professor Jan Lindgren, a researcher with the UN,” he announces, “We're not here to kill him, although the target should be considered expendable. We're after his data stores. Our intel report suggests that he keeps a server with a backup copy of the UN research archives. That's our target. We get in, take what we need, then get out.”

“What kind of resistance will we be facing?” one of the soldiers asks, “Does he keep guards?”

“Lindgren keeps a staff of six people on hand, all of them with military training. That's it,” Fletcher answers, “He's a loner, something of a recluse. All six members of his staff are expendable too. I want them captured or neutralised as soon as possible. Is that understood?”

Cam nods, along with the rest of the soldiers. You listen with a faint chill. This is a different side to Fletcher – he's a soldier, of course, but you've never seen him acting so much like one. People could die tonight, and he's happy to accept that.

[1/2]

>>3578841
oooh, black ops.

Turns out Holly was isekaing into Deniable Assets Quest

>>3578847
Or
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJIJefjjvvg

>>3578841

“Merril,” Fletcher mutters, his voice just barely audible over the roar of the helicopter's engines as he sits opposite you both, “Do you know why I wanted you on this mission?”

Cam tenses up. “I have medical training. If anyone gets wounded, that'll come in handy,” she replies briskly, “Was there some other reason?”

“Lindgren was one of the main scientists in charge of Karina's case. He might have more information about her. This isn't our primary objective, but I'd like you to have a talk with him. With Wilson dead, you know her better than anyone else. You'll know the right questions to ask,” the mercenary explains, “Just... keep a clear head. Lindgren is not a good man – you might not like the answers he has to give. He's callous, for one thing. If he doesn't tell us anything, it's no loss – we'll still have the archives themselves.”

Looking over Cam's shoulder, your point of view that of someone sitting close behind her, you feel the unease ripple through her. “Sir, we're taking a risk here,” she murmurs, “We're attacking the UN directly.”

“They threw the first punch in this fight, Merril,” he answers, “It's about time that we showed them we can fight back. Besides, we may need that research data. If the worst happens, and we're cut off from all support, we can't just start from nothing. We need to prepare for every eventuality. Just keep focused – there's time yet before we reach the target. Do you want to talk?”

“I'd prefer some peace and quiet, sir,” Cam replies, looking around at the rowdy soldiers laughing and joking beside her, “As much as possible, that is.”

Nodding, Fletcher strides away to join the rest of the soldiers. Cam leans back and closes her eyes, letting her thoughts wander. You can actually see them, like snapshots spreading out around her. Here, an old image of Karina, perhaps from the first time they ever met. Here, a dry and dusty city that you don't recognise, although Cam immediately identifies it as Mexico City. There are others, images of men, but you quickly look away from those. Those are... intimate. Not for prying eyes. Although really, you're prying here no matter what you look at. The honest thing to do would be to look away, not to delve any deeper, and yet...

>Leave Cam's memories be. These aren't for you
>Delve into her memory of meeting Karina
>Delve into her memory of Mexico City
>Search for something specific... (Write in)
>Other

>>3578881
>>Leave Cam's memories be. These aren't for you
Let's not pry any more than we already have, especially without a good reason.

>>3578881
>Leave Cam's memories be. These aren't for you.
Just because we can doesn't mean we should.

>>3578881
>>Delve into her memory of meeting Karina

>>3578881
>Search for memories about Wilson
not really interested in other things, unless gunhandling/medical training will translate to something holly can use.

>>3578881
>Delve into her memory of meeting Karina

This isn't the first time you've seen someone else's memories. The first time, they were Nate's memories, and you know just how well that turned out. That time, you were aided by Bergmann's immeasurably complicated machinery. Now, you're just... doing it. You should probably be shocked – and you probably will be, in due time – but now you just feel a kind of numb curiosity. A desire to see just how far you can push this...

You concentrate on Doctor Wilson, watching with fascinated eyes as Cam's own memories respond. In the form of a rapid slideshow, you see her studying under Doctor Wilson and working with him. She lingers on the sidelines as Karina and Wilson happily interact, those particular memories stained with guilt. Intrigued, you follow that thread of guilt further.

“I wish we could have spent more time together, the three of us,” Cam's echoing voice declares, “We never could have been a family for her, but it would have been better than nothing. Now, he's gone and she doesn't even know. I can't keep this secret from her forever. I wish I could have been there when he died. Maybe... I could have done something for him. They say he was a traitor, but nobody deserves that. Hell, why am I thinking about this now? Of all times, why now?”

Her brow furrows, the memories of Doctor Wilson causing her other memories, those of Karina, to draw nearer to the surface. You see Karina as she once was, a withered shape slumped and motionless in her wheelchair. Voices swirl around her, but the sickly girl shows no sign of awareness.

“What's wrong with her?” Cam – a younger and somehow more innocent version of her – asks, “Is it... terminal?”

“I wish I knew. This is just her condition. She has good days and bad days, but for now she seems, ah...” Wilson pauses, “Stable. Stable enough, at least.”

“...Right,” Cam remarks, doubt in her voice, “She doesn't look like she needs a carer to me. Keep her under observation, that's all she needs. What do you need me for, then?”

“To look after her. Not as a doctor, but as a friend,” the doctor answers, his voice lowering, “I might not be around forever, Cam. If I... if something happened to me, Zero would be all alone in the world. I couldn't bear to leave her like that. Would you do this for me? Please?”

“I should have known there and then,” the present day Cam thinks to herself, the thoughts easily skimmed from the surface of her mind, “That should have been a warning sign. Damn it, maybe I could have stopped all of this, if only I had known...”

Unable to stomach the sick, guilty feeling of her memories any longer, you pull back. Outside, a thick forest stretches out beneath the helicopter, large trees gathered around jagged mountains. It's isolated here – the perfect place for some dirty deeds.

[1/2]

>>3578909

The helicopter sets down in a clearing not too far from the objective, leaving the soldiers to finish the journey on foot. Now that she's on the ground, her rifle in hand, Cam's mind has focused into a hard point. The soldiers spread out in a wide formation, silently sweeping though the forest. You follow behind them, checking your “grip” on your body. You could go back there in an instant, you think, but you might not be able to come back so easily. It's Claire you think of, your thoughts of her leading you back home. Still, you have a strange feeling – like you're not quite alone here.

“Why do you feel guilty?” a voice whispers, “For looking into her mind? She was an open book. You did little more than glance at the pages.”

“I didn't!” you protest, unsure of who you're even arguing against, “I never meant to...”

“There's no shame in it,” the voice continues, giggling softly, “You could have done so much more than look. Delve deep inside her, probe into her darkest secrets. If you didn't like what you found there... you could have changed it. Like wiping a chalkboard clean and writing your own story. You could try it now, if you wanted.”

“Shut up. Fuck you,” you whisper. A deep laugh answers this, and then you're alone once more. Alone aside from the soldiers creeping through the forest, that is.

-

When the soldiers strike, they do so with what Fletcher would call “decisive action”. Breaking through doors in both front and back, they fall upon the unprepared staff and detain them without firing a shot, wrestling the men to the ground and binding them with plastic zip ties. They never stood a chance – one minute they were going about their business, napping or lazily wandering along their patrol routes, and the next they were being attacked by armed soldiers. None of them had been realistically expecting an attack.

All that, you “hear” as you pass unseen through the manor corridors. It's a nice house, this. Rustic and grand, nestled against the side of a mountain as if in retreat from the outside world. The computer room stands out from the rest of the building, all chrome and glass with a gently humming server looming over the room. You watch as Fletcher's people hook up a boxy device to the server, then – losing interest – you drift back to find Cam.

You find her in the study, alone with a sullen looking man who you assume to be Lindgren. Cam pours two glasses of some amber spirit, offering one out to the man. “Look, don't make this any harder than it has to be,” she sighs, “Just be patient, and we'll be out of your hair before you know it.”

“Oh yes. It will all be over soon,” Lindgren sniffs, taking the glass with a disdainful expression, “I knew this would happen one of these days. I'm disappointed – I thought you would send Amon to do the deed. I don't even warrant that?”

[2/3]

>>3578968

You feel confusion ripple through Cam, although her patient expression never changes. Setting her rifle aside in a vain attempt at putting Lindgren's mind at ease, she pastes a friendly smile onto her face. Just beneath the surface, a rolling tide of anger starts to boil. “Enough of that talk,” she cautions, “We're not here to shut you up, or whatever you're worried about. We're just here for information.”

“Ah, I see now. You're not UN, are you?” Lindgren realises, smirking to himself, “NIHIL? I already told you people, I have no desire to help you. But you wouldn't take “no” for an answer, would you?” Tutting softly to himself, Lindgren turns away and ignores Cam. You focus on him, but his thoughts are even harder to grasp than Bergmann's. All you can do is hope that something makes its way to the surface. “Are you still here?” he asks Cam, glancing disinterestedly around, “I don't talk to dogs. Shoo now, go away.”

Marching across the room, Cam grabs Lindgren's arm in a tight grip. “Listen here, you son of a bitch,” she hisses, “I don't care about any of that. I'm here for Karina.”

“Ah, and I thought you were the good cop,” the scientist spits, shaking off her arm, “No matter. I don't know the name, so you can go away now. If you people are going to ransack my home, the least you can do is leave me alone while you do it.”

“Zero, then,” Cam snarls, her hand straying to the pistol holstered in her belt. Something about this anger feels all wrong, and it's not just Lindgren's taunts. This isn't... her.

“Oh yes. That one,” the scientist sniffs, “What about it?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Cam tries to calm herself. “Her condition is getting worse. Nobody else sees it, they all thinks she's getting stronger, but... she's burning herself out,” she explains, circling around Lindgren so she can look him in the eye. “I need to know what's wrong with her,” she continues, “And I need to know what we can do to stop it. Does she need medication? Some kind of treatment?”

“Medication? Treatment? What do you think you're talking about?” Lindgren laughs, “When your tool breaks, you get a new one. Zero was never meant to last forever – it came with an expiration date. You're not going to change that, no matter how badly you want to.”

Gasping at this, Cam stumbles back a step. “You... you bastard,” she whispers, drawing her pistol, “Tell me how to fix this, or I'll... I'll...”

“Do it,” a distant voice hisses, the words punching you with terrible strength, “He deserves worse than this. Just do it!”

Driven by this compulsion, Cam begins to raise the pistol. Could you stop her with a compulsion of your own? But you'd be fighting against that terrible strength, and...

>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!
>Do nothing. If you oppose that strength, you'll be crushed
>Encourage her to shoot. Lindgren really does deserve it
>Other

>>3579017
>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!
Whatever outside force we brought with us is doing this. Fuck it up Holly. Lindgren is more useful alive than dead.

>>3579017
>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!
Ask the force what the hell its doing and what the hell it is.

>>3579017
>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!
Cam just fucked up big time, she gave the game away.
If we can we need to wipe Lindgren's memory just too be safe because it can't be to hard to figure out where Karina is.

>>3579017
>Encourage her to shoot. Lindgren really does deserve it

>>3579017
>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!
Don't do it directly, though, try to make her remember words about 'clean op'. Are they going to take him with? I don't think he'll be quiet about this.

>>3579034
I'm not sure we can do that, as has been described, he has a closed heart. I assume that at best it will be harder and easier to fuck up. Not even counting the moral aspect.

>>3579017
>>Stop Cam from pulling the trigger. She can't do this!

>>3579040
The problem is that He works for the UN and so when they investigate the break in he will be questioned he will mention he was questioned about "Zero" they should be able to work backwards to figure out that NERV did this and that's going to basically destroy whatever Monroe and Bergman are doing.

>>3579052
That is fair enough and i think in this situation some mind fuckery is reasonable, however i am against a full mind wipe, though i am for selective amnesia or modifying that select memory.
Also, i assume that fletcher thought of that and that's why we are taking him and his security detail prisoner. Let's maybe hold off on that a bit?

>>3579069
The only other problems i can think of would be others overhearing the conversation because Cam's not exactly being quiet and/or the camera's picking it up although i would assume the team will wipe those.

>>3579017
>>Encourage her to shoot. Lindgren really does deserve it
For once make the tough choice

>>3579052
Fletcher should have more knowledge about the situation to know what to do with the scientist when he gets here. Better for him to make the call.

>>3579052
>>3579069
We cant risk the mind wipe. He needs to die or we are fucked cover wise.

>>3579092
If it fails we can always get Cam to shoot him.

>>3579092
>>3579099
Guys Holly and we as players *do not know* enough about the worth of this guy and his knowledge to make the call to murder him for secrecy.

Fletcher would. Restrain Cam now to stop her from doing it out of emotion and outside tampering and then just abide to Fletcher's call, kill or no.

>>3579105
That is correct. But we as Holly just saw Cam blow her cover and we know our mind powers are still tricky.

>>3579105
The thing is that Fletcher doesn't know that Cam said what she said.
also
Also I have a sneaking suspicion that Adrian may be the one behind the voice This is entirely based on the fact that Both Bergmann and Adrian eyes are the same colour, and Bergmann somehow was resistant to Holly's Scrying for "Reasons"

>>3579113
I figure Cam will tell Fletch she fucked up. She's not a perfect soldier, but still a soldier and it's a very important change of events.

“Cam, no!” you hiss, desperately focusing your will on her as you try to keep her from raising her pistol. This isn't how things were supposed to go. This was supposed to be a clean op, a quick in and out. Nobody was supposed to get hurt! That aside, Lindgren – vile as he may be – must be more useful alive than dead. Your blunt force compulsion causes Cam to freeze, her hand caught halfway between pointing the gun at Lindgren and the floor. The scientist himself stares in fascinated horror, his eyes bulging in their sockets.

“Hmm?” the unseen voice muses, “What's this? Are you sure that you want to play this game? I could crush you like an insect, you know. Like a bug. I wonder what would happen to your body then. Brain death, perhaps, or would it dissolve completely? Care to find out?”

“Who... are... you?” you spit, feeling as if your immaterial body is about to shred apart at any minute, “Why are you... doing this?”

“I'm just helping her. She WANTS to shoot him, you know. Don't you think he deserves death?” the voice jeers in response, “And besides, it amuses me to do this. I like watching you people squirm. It doesn't matter which side you're on – you're all the same to me.”

“For fun? We're not toys for you to play with, damn it!” you snarl, anger lending you new strength. Slowly, Cam begins to lower her pistol. For a moment, victory seems close at hand. Then, the walls around you blur and fade out. Like a stage being dismantled in rapid motion, the manor draws away and leaves you – you, Cam, and Lindgren himself – floating in an uncertain void. Light pours down upon you, burning against the unseen substance of your “body”. Like sunlight at first, the light only grows hotter and hotter as the void fills with white. Gasping, you stare up into the sky. Looming above like the sun itself, your enemy bathes you in a hateful, killing light.

“You never should have left that flawed, imperfect shell you call a body,” the voice taunts, no hint of effort or strain in its tones, “Now, you're going to BURN.”

The light pours down over you, searing through you. Searing right down to your core. Worst of all, you know that this is just a taster of what is to come. This is the first flush of heat before you're thrown into the fire itself, and it's still too much to take. You...

>Ego reduced by 5
>Current Ego: 68/100

You cut the connection. You break and run. It's not a matter of courage or choice, it's a matter of survival – staying here would be certain death, pointless death, and you're no fool. As you flee back to your waiting body, you only hope that you held on for long enough – that you managed to distract the presence for long enough, buy Cam enough time to get control over her own body once more. It's all you CAN do.

You don't want to burn here.

[1/2]

>>3579116
I don't think that she will realize what she did until it's too late.

>>3579121

Screaming, you claw your way back into the waking world. Soon, the others are screaming as well, with your rude awakening jolting them all into an immediate panic. It takes a moment, but slowly – one by one – you all run out of breath and calm down. “Well,” Karina pants, brushing aside the curtain draped around her bed, “That was invigorating! What are we all shouting about?”

“I had a bad dream,” you rasp, “A really fucking bad dream. Where's Claire? Is she here?”

The others glance uneasily at each other. “She went back to the dorm. Uh... said she forgot something,” Nate explains with a vague gesture. “I guess the others were still asleep, but she told me not to wake you, since you seemed pretty far under. I think it was her toothbrush? You know, to brush her teeth.”

“Well, what else would she want it for?” Claudia snaps, rolling her eyes, “Forget the toothbrush! Holly, tell us about it. Was it... one of THOSE dreams?”

Stumbling across to the table, you grab a drink at random and swallow the warm, stale liquid. Shuddering at the taste, you nod slowly. “It worked. Sort of. I went somewhere, saw things. That mission Cam was on, she went to this manor in some forest, and...” you pause, shaking your head in fear, “God, I don't ever want to do that again. There was something else there – it damn near killed me. Damn near burned my mind to ash. I had to bug out as quickly as I could.”

“What was it?” Kaori wonders, “A Lilim?”

You start to answer that, only to shake your head again. “I don't know. It acted more like a human – a really fucking mean human, but it was too powerful to be a man. No human could do the things that thing could do. At least, I sure hope not,” sitting back down, you cradle your aching head in your hands, “I don't know what happened at the end. Things were so mixed up. I just hope I stopped her from shooting.”

“Shooting... who?” Karina whispers, her hands restlessly kneading her sheets.

“This scientist,” you answer with a shrug, “Lindgren. He was-”

The sound of the name causes Karina to gasp. “Lindgren?” she repeats, “I know that name, I'm sure of it. I think... I knew him from Berlin, maybe even before that. What... Holly, did he say anything? Did he say anything about me?”

That... is not an easy question to answer.

>No, he never mentioned you. Sorry
>He said... (Write in)
>Other

>>3579171
>No, he never mentioned you. Sorry
We should probably tell her about what he said in private at a later time.
If we feel like it we could also tell her about Willson.

>>3579171
>He said... (Write in)
"Cam asked about your condition and Lindgren, the piece of shit, just wrote you off. That's when she pulled the gun. What does he know though? He doesn't seem like the kind of person that would bother to try to help."

>>3579171
>He said some rude things

>>3579183
+1

Swallowing heavily, you glance briefly around at the others. Vic is missing too, you note, and everyone else looks very deliberately uninterested in what you have to say. This isn't really an easy thing to talk about at the best of times, but with an audience? Hell no. “I'm pretty shaken up right now. You think you can ask me about that later?” you ask Karina, giving her your best attempt at a smile, “I need to put my thoughts in order.”

“Ah,” Karina agrees, “Get all of your ducks in a row!”

Nate snorts laughter. “What do ducks have to do with this?” she asks, “You're weird, Karina!”

“We're all pretty weird, honestly,” you remark, glad for the distraction, “Where's Vic, anyway? He better not be off having an affair with my friend - I'll strangle the pair of them if they are!”

“Oh, he went back to the dorm too, but he left us a little note. Said he didn't really feel comfortable sleeping here with us,” Claudia explains, waving a small scrap of paper at you, “I suppose he just couldn't trust himself to keep his hands off of me. At least he did the honourable thing and removed himself from the situation. It can be a curse, being as irresistible as I am, but...”

She continues to brag, but you tune her out. Meeting Karina's eyes, you give her another fake smile.

-

Volunteering to do the cleaning up gives you an opportunity to speak with Karina in private, although you DO need to actually do some cleaning up at the same time. “He did mention you,” you tell her eventually, “But... he didn't say much, and what he did say was pretty nasty. I don't know what you remember, but he's not exactly a nice guy, y'know?”

“I don't remember anything,” Karina apologises, “Just the name. It seemed familiar. That's the first thing I've... sort of remembered since waking up here. Do you think that's a good sign?”

“It's not what I'd choose to remember, but whatever. No, basically, Cam asked about your health but Lindgren just brushed her off. Things got a little heated after that, and Cam pulled her gun on him,” you explain vaguely, “But look, I wouldn't put too much trust in anything he has to say. He seemed like the sort of guy who wouldn't help anyone except himself. Cam was just looking out for you.”

“Oh...” Karina considers this, “I wish she wouldn't worry so much. I'm getting much stronger, you know!” Smiling proudly to herself, the sickly girl throws back her sheets and starts to get out of bed, showing you just how much better she really is. She gets three paces before wilting, stumbling forwards as you race across to catch her. “Ah,” Karina gasps, almost laughing, “I'm never any good early in the morning. My legs get so weak overnight! I'll be fine in a moment, just... just help me into my chair.”

Her chair. That hateful, precious thing.

[1/2]

>>3579242

It'll be a while yet before you need to go to school – although you feel lousy enough that you could skip it without feeling guilty – so you continue to help Karina with the cleaning. Just as you're bagging up the last of the trash, you hear your phone chime. It's a message from Claudia – she just saw Fletcher heading into his office, looking massively weary. It sounds like she meant it as a warning, but you hastily tie up the trash bag and call out an excuse before hurrying out. Karina calls a cheerful goodbye after you, taking your rapid exit in stride.

When you arrive at Fletcher's office, you find him pouring a glass of bourbon. “Early for that, isn't it?” you ask, hiding your shredded nerves behind a twitchy smile, “And won't Monroe miss it?”

“She asked me to hold onto it for her, ever since... you know,” Fletcher replies, throwing back his drink and pouring another, “And after the night I had, I need something to take the edge off. I can't talk about it.” Sipping his freshly poured drink rather than downing it in one, he regards you with a cautious eye. When he sees that you're going nowhere, he lets out a low sigh. “We had a mission tonight. It went bad,” he admits, “I think.”

“You think?” you repeat, “You don't sound... sure.”

“We're still trying to piece together what happened,” he concedes, “I asked Cam to look after a man while we ran a short errand. When I came back to check on her, I found them both laid out on the floor. Not quite unconscious, but close. Neither of them remembered anything – they both have a perfectly matching hole in their memories. I'm supposed to report any kind of memory disturbance, but this wasn't exactly a sanctioned operation, so... I'm at a loss.”

Cam and Lindgren, both suffering from memory loss... did YOU do that, or was it just fallout from your struggle with that monstrous force? “Is Cam okay?” you ask carefully, holding back the torrent of questions piling up in your mind.

“She's going to have one hell of a hangover, but she seems unharmed,” Fletcher answers, “I don't know whether to consider the op a success or not. Everything else went off without a hitch, but this... I don't like anomalies.”

“No,” you agree slowly, “Neither do I.”

“Well, I'll ask Ingrid for her opinion tomorrow. Commander Monroe got in a few minutes after me, but the good doctor is taking a personal day today. Cam should be back on duty soon, once Doctor Weick has given her a check over, so things should get back to normal,” the mercenary concludes, “And... you should try to get a nap before school, you look exhausted. Didn't get much sleep last night, did you?”

“Well, we were kinda...” you begin, trailing off with a shrug.

>Fletcher's right. A nap would be good
>Visit Monroe, see what she got up to last night
>Head to the infirmary and check on Cam
>Talk with Fletcher some more... (Write in)
>Other

>>3579293
>>Visit Monroe, see what she got up to last night

>>3579293
>>Visit Monroe, see what she got up to last night

>>3579293
>Visit Monroe, see what she got up to last night
Assuming that Fletcher is telling the truth looks like we managed to avoid a crisis. Hopefully none of the pilots will say anything.

>>3579293
>Visit Monroe, see what she got up to last night
Remember how we had a similar hole in memory some time ago? Yeah.

>>3579293
>>Fletcher's right. A nap would be good

>>3579337
It's been a couple times now. In the park and when Unit 2 grabbed us

>>3579337
That just brings up more questions though because if it was the same entity that caused the memory loss then why didn't it just melt our mind there and be done with us, it could have been that we were still in our body?
That brings up what happens to the 2nd soul(Claire?) when we are in control and why it can't just attack it, then we wouldn't be able to leave with being reformed into LCL

>>3579357
I think what happened with Unit 02 was done by NERV as Fletcher seems to cover for it this leads me to think that there may be more than one other entity that impact people in this way.

“Yeah, well, I'm heading out,” you finish weakly, “Don't drink too much, okay? That stuff is no good for you.”

Fletcher nods solemnly, placing the stopper back in the bottle and returning it to his drawer. Leaving him to it, you head next door and poke your head around the edge Monroe's door. She looks more awake and alert than anyone else you've seen this morning, a thoughtful smile on her face as she skims over a thin file. Glancing up, she nods towards the seat opposite her. You sit, waiting for her to finish reading the file and set it aside. “The morning news,” she explains, gesturing at the paper, “Nothing we need concern ourselves with, thankfully. How was your sleepover last night?”

“It was... fun,” you offer with a lame shrug, “I think I ate too much shitty food, though. My stomach feels super gross.”

“If you were a few years older, I'd think you had a hangover,” Monroe remarks with the pale ghost of a smile, “That's a bad habit to get into. I should know.”

Your laugh, suffice to say, is polite. “So... did you get up to anything last night?” you ask, “I mean, I don't really know much about you. About what you like to do when you get a day off, that kind of thing. Then again, you don't get time off very often, do you?”

“Unfortunately not, but last night was special. I went out to a nice bar with Doctor Bergmann, although I wasn't drinking. I... try not to, these days. Once I start, I'm worried that... well, never mind that,” sighing, Monroe leans forwards and rests her chin on one hand, “That whole business with the UN had one benefit. I think it reminded us both that we're supposed to be on the same side. Petty feuds are only going to hurt us both in the long run.”

Very mature of her. “Even on a night out, you two ended up talking about work,” you joke, “Or did you talk about anything more personal?”

“Hmm, what if that was a private discussion?” Monroe counters, giving you a teasing smile, “Maybe we gossiped about you kids. I might not be able to repeat what we said – not without sullying your innocent little ears, at least.” Laughing softly, she leans back and shakes her head. “But no, we didn't talk about you behind your back. Much. It was mostly just...” she pauses, shrugging slightly, “Until last night, I don't think we've ever really tried to understand each other. We made assumptions, and those assumptions were often accurate, but they missed the point just as much. That's no way to build a relationship.”

“A relationship?” you repeat, raising a curious eyebrow.

“A friendship,” Monroe corrects herself, “Don't make this weird!”

[1/2]

>>3579374

A deep yawn puts an end to your part in this conversation, and you start to see the wisdom in Fletcher's suggestion of a nap. Mumbling an excuse to Monroe, you get up and start to leave. As you're heading out, she softly calls out your name. “We ARE getting through this,” the commander promises, quiet resolve in her voice, “I know that it might not always seem that way, but we ARE making progress.”

Her motivational speech of the day. At least it's a short one today. Nodding wearily, you give her a tired smile and head back to the dorm.

-

“That thing could have killed me last night,” you murmur, lying back in bed and staring up at the ceiling, “But it didn't. It let me escape.”

“Maybe it was toying with you,” Claire suggests, “I mean like, it did say that it likes watching people squirm. Where's the fun in finishing things too quickly?” She grimaces, the serious expression unfamiliar on her usually lively features. “It's not like we can just ask, though,” she adds, “Damn thing might not take too kindly to a question like that. Or it might love an excuse to talk about itself. We just don't know.”

“...It was like staring into the sun,” you breathe, shuddering at the memory, “If that thing was playing games with me, it might not be so generous next time. I might not get a second chance. So... I guess it's best if I stay inside my own skin from now on.”

“So what, no spying on people in the shower?” Claire jokes, “Shame...”

She's just trying to cheer you up. Still, you appreciate that. No matter what happens, she's always here for you.

>Going to pause things here for tonight. I'm aiming to continue this next Friday, and I hope to have an interlude episode posted sometime midweek
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3579426
Thanks for running.

>>3579426
Thanks for running!

What expiration date did Karina come with out of curiosity? 4 more months?

>>3579426
Thanks for running.
The operation was sanctioned by Monroe right? not Bergmann

If we ever feel like we absolutely need to know what's going on in NERV we could try the same trick on Fletcher to see what he knows

Now that we have confirmed that Karina has an expiry date we may want to make sure that Juliet, Karinia and Kaori figure out where they stand before thing get too far into the Endgame.

>>3579441
Well, you can't rely too much on these things, but maybe we'll have one less name on our Christmas card list. So hey, that's one less gift to worry about!

>>3579453
Fletcher was the brains behind the operation, but Monroe did give him the green light. Bergmann was involved, but she wasn't the deciding factor

>>3579293
So can we just tell Fletcher what we know? It's kind of important to figure out what Holly was doing in the park anyway.

>>3580716
The thing is is that it would be a massive step up in trust for not much gain, because we handled it pretty well as there is no way we can keep Fletcher honest.
Also we know that Fletcher will works in the interest of the SEELE as he did give away what Bergmann said even after she told him not too.

File: Interlude7.png (882 KB, 900x700)

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Personal Log [Encrypted]
June, 2021

It's strange to actually remember a night out at the bar. I've always had a good memory for details – at least when I was on duty – and I guess I was on duty tonight. Making sure that the team can work well together is a big part of my job, and I'm not excluded from that. So, peace talks with Bergmann last night. They went well, I think. At least, nobody died.

We met in some fancy hotel down town. Her choice. At first, I thought she was trying to unnerve me with some stuffy, formal place – I've always been more of a “down and dirty” kind of girl – but then I realised how tense she was. I still remember the first moment I saw her. She hadn't noticed me yet, it seemed, and her mind was elsewhere. She's normally so intense when she's at work – sometimes, being with her is like standing next to the sun. Seeing her with her guard down like that was a rare privilege.

Then, when I joined her over by the bar window, I saw my reflection in the glass. She'd known I was there from the moment I stepped into the bar.

I won't bore you with the details of our small talk, dear diary, since it's just you and me reading this. Well... you, me, and any UN spooks feeling particularly nosy. You should really get a hobby or something, by the way.

Anyway. I had all kinds of things that I wanted to say to Bergmann, but I managed to forget every last one. Maybe that had been part of her plan all along. Either way, I kept getting distracted by the most ridiculous things. Bergmann drinks like a man, downing her cocktails – she takes an Old Fashioned, with rye – in two or three swigs. I thought I could drink, but I wouldn't stand a chance against her. It was a long while before I managed to blurt out my first, foolish question. I asked her why, after warning me from asking too many questions, she was carrying out her own research. We're both bending the rules, if not outright breaking them, so why is it okay when she does it?

“Because,” she answered, “I know what I'm doing. You don't.”

I wish I could have argued against that, pretended that I wasn't just making this up as I go along, but... that would have been a pack of lies, huh? So, instead of any of that, I asked Bergmann WHAT she was doing. With no bullshit or ominously vague statements, I wanted to know what she was planning. Then, I would decide what to do about it. Her answer was simple.

“Saturnalia,” she said simply. Then, I politely reminded her about the “no bullshit” policy, and she elaborated a little. I'm still not convinced that she wasn't just feeding me a load of crap, but at least I got more than one word out of her. This is what she said...

[1/2]

>>3585795

“Saturnalia was a festival in Ancient Rome. It was a time of great upheaval, when the social order was turned on its head... albeit for a short time. The high were brought low, and the low were raised up. There were other aspects to it, of course, but we needn't concern ourselves with those now. Second Impact changed the order of the world – race, class, sex, all those old differences became irrelevant. In the future – not the distant future - “power” will be determined by who can or cannot manipulate the AT Field.”

“So long as Lilim remain a threat, there will be a need for the ADM Units. So long as there is a need for the ADM Units, those who control them will hold the reins of mankind. We can never be free so long as we rely on idols for our protection. But if we could all manipulate the AT Field – not just in a manner that allowed us to connect with the ADM Units, but in a manner that would render them obsolete – then perhaps mankind might have a future.”

Like I said. Strange how much I can remember when I'm sober. Needless to say, though, I told her that what she was talking about was impossible.

“For now, yes,” Bergmann replied, “But this is the ultimate goal of SEELE's research, and mine too. What we would do with that research, though, that is where we differ. Do you really think that they would share power with all of mankind?”

Doubtful. Very doubtful. Honestly, at the time I wasn't sure what to make of her claims – I'm still not sure – but the simple fact that she told me this... if she was telling the truth, it was a potent display of trust. I wasn't sure if I would ever get the chance to say this, but I think we can work together. There was just one question that occurred to me at the time. When, I asked her, was Saturnalia usually held?

The end of the year, Bergmann told me, around Christmas time.

>This concludes today's interlude episode! NERV: Second Daughter will hopefully continue next Friday
>Thank you for reading along today!

>>3585797
Welp this confirms a lot of heavy suspicions

>>3585908
And now I'm wondering if the Giant of Light was a flash-forward instead of a flashback

>>3585797
Well, now we know who's been writing the journal entries. Good to see the two of them being civil, and working together in a fashion. I guess the threat of the UN coming down on everyone forced them to set aside their differences for now.

>>3586193
I can't even remember the journal entries

>>3585797
I don't think Holly would make a very good momma mary

>>3587971
>I can't even remember the journal entries
I went through the archives recently. A couple of these interludes were written as journal entries, though the author was never clear.

File: NERVop7.5.png (881 KB, 900x700)

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Tap... tap... tap.

You're no stranger to the sound of fingernails rapping against a desk – Monroe does it often enough, especially when she's thinking hard – but this is different. There's a harshness to this tiny sound, a shrill note that needles at you. With your eyes low, you watch the woman's fingernails – oddly glossy, with a sheen like metal – click against Monroe's desk. Monroe herself is nowhere to be seen, so it's just you and this... interloper.

“I'm not the kind of person who likes to make assumptions,” Doctor Elizabeth Matheson muses, “But I'm detecting a certain degree of hostility.”

“Don't take it personally, doc,” you reply, “I'm like this with everyone.”

Matheson smiles softly. “But that's not quite true, is it? You've shown a remarkable degree of warmth and companionship to your fellow pilots – even those who you might naturally dislike. You took Juliet swimming, didn't you?” she thinks aloud to herself, “And Kuznetsova... well, you had a rocky start, but you seem to working well together now. So really, I don't think you're like this with everyone. Not at all.”

Leaning back, you give her a calculated shrug – just sullen enough. “You know everything already,” you tell Matheson, “So I don't really see what I'm doing here. It's nice to meet you and all, but... are we done here?”

“Very well,” she agrees, offering you a gracious nod, “Let's take a short break. Don't go too far now!”

-

“I know this isn't exactly what you had planned for today,” Monroe sighs, cradling a cup of hot coffee in her hands, “But please understand, I didn't know about this either. We only got the call a few hours ago – she said she was on her way, and she wanted to talk to you. Just... put up with her, okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you grumble, “This is only going to be for like, an hour right?”

“Ah, well... no,” Monroe replies, wincing slightly, “Matheson says she has plans for most of the day.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, your shoulders slumping.

Despite herself, Monroe giggles. “Oh, come on,” she urges, “She's not that bad, is she?”

That's a hard question to answer. Matheson seems like a strange woman, easy to dislike at first glance. She had those strangely painted nails, for one thing, but she also wears a wig – a short bobbed thing, a shade of black so dark that it almost appears blue. Her features are sharp, prominent, but her voice has a note of cloying sweetness to it. No one feature, in isolation, would be enough to draw so much ire, but all together...

“Well, whether you like her or not, this is a hoop we need to jump through. We can't afford to make any enemies right now,” Monroe concludes, “I sent you an e-mail with your schedule on it. Have you seen it?”

Fumbling though your bag, you pull out your tablet. Before you can reach your e-mails, you spot a red alert hovering over a mostly forgotten icon.

In Labyrinth, a new message awaits.

[1/2]

>>3590547

Phantom: You need to listen very carefully.
HLLY06: Fuck you, you're dead. Stop haunting me.
Phantom: There's no time for that. You need to leave. Now.
HLLY06: Wait, hold up, leave where? Leave HQ?
Phantom: Yes. Matheson is a danger. I don't know what you did, but “you know who” are panicking. They sent Matheson to undermine you. She's poison. You need to run, lie low for today.
HLLY06: This is bullshit!

“You got the message? That's good. Just have a little patience, and Matheson should be gone by tomorrow. She's a pretty busy woman, apparently, so she can't stick around for long,” Monroe continues, oblivious to your rising unease, “Can I tell you something, though? Bergmann doesn't like her either. When she heard that Matheson was coming in, she immediately took the entire day off. I don't know why, but I think there's some bad blood there. Right now, Bergmann is probably sulking in her apartment. Talk about childish!”

“Uh, yeah, I got the message,” you lie, “Sounds thrilling. But like, you're SURE that it's just for today?”

“Matheson already mentioned an appointment abroad tomorrow, so she can't afford to stick around,” Monroe answers, “Consider yourself safe!”

Grunting softly, you look back down at your tablet and the awful messages waiting there.

Phantom: This is a lot of things, but bullshit is not one of them.
HLLY06: That's what you say. How do I know that you're not trying to scare me off?
HLLY06: Maybe I really CAN trust Matheson, and you just want to ruin that
Phantom: Well, that's your decision.
Phantom: You'll just have to trust me.
Phantom: But whatever you do, you need to do it quickly.

Murmuring something vague to herself, Monroe rises from the cafeteria table and leaves you alone with your thoughts. Still staring down at the tablet, you gnaw at your thumbnail and think hard. Even if you were to run, where would you go? There's Bergmann, sulking in her apartment – not exactly the sort of ally that you expected, but any port in a storm – or maybe Coraline could help. You could go on a long drive together, that would definitely get you out of Matheson's grasp.

But then, just dropping everything and running away might well lead you into an even worse grasp. All you have right now is the word of a dead man, some digital ghost. Not what you'd call a reliable source of information. Break time is going to be over soon, so...

>Remain in the base. Phantom cannot be trusted
>Seek shelter in Bergmann's apartment
>Call Coraline up for a ride out of here
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3590553
>There's something else... (Write in)
Considering that they have come back from the dead, we need to tell Fletcher.
We could also get his impression of Matheson.

>>3590553
>Seek shelter in Bergmann's apartment

Taking Phantom with a grain of salt, but what he said does seem valid. Our little astral projection probably set off some alarms. Let's hang with the Doc for a bit, see what happens.

>>3590562
>>3590553
I support talking to fletch about these things

Fletcher, you decide, you need to bring this to Fletcher. If Matheson really is bad news, he should be able to do something about it – at the very least, he might be able to help you slip out of HQ. All the soldiers around here, and you've never thought about what you'd do if they tried to keep you from leaving. Well, now you're having to think about just that. Hopefully, it won't come to anything drastic. Hopefully.

Dropping your tablet back into your bag, you smoothly rise from the cafeteria table and hurry out, trying your best to look calm and casual. As you head to the administration section, your heart starts to pound. The door to Monroe's office is closed – a rare thing whenever the commander is in, but a blessing now – and you slip past, barging into Fletcher's room without the courtesy of knocking. The mercenary jolts up from the disassembled pistol he was cleaning, his eyes narrowing as he studies you.

“Holly,” he begins, his voice pitched low, “What's wrong?”

So much for looking calm and casual. Marching over to him, you slap down the tablet and display the new set of messages. “Look who just came back from the dead,” you spit, “Shouldn't be too surprising, I guess, considering the name and all, but...”

“Shh,” Fletcher murmurs, reading the messages over quickly. Then he goes back and reads them again, slower this time. “This is a different person,” he announces, “They're using the same account, but a different person sent these messages. Their whole writing style is different. Now sit down, and we can talk this through.” Gesturing to the seat, Fletcher gently moves the gun parts aside and leans forwards. You can smell the oil he was using on his gun, a strangely comforting scent.

“Right. I'm calm now,” you lie, “So like, where do you want to start? Maybe with telling me why I should be so afraid of Matheson? What's your take on her?”

Ever the diplomat, Fletcher considers his answer carefully. “I don't especially like the woman,” he admits, “Although I don't know her well enough to dislike her on a personal level. She has some habits that I find irritating, for one thing. She's a mimic – she'll imitate whatever body language she thinks might endear her to whoever she's speaking with. I just find it faintly mocking. That aside...” Leaning back, Fletcher runs his hand across his unshaven jaw as he thinks. “You tell ME something,” he suggests, “Why should head office be worried?”

“That...” you begin, only to stall and fall silent. You don't want to make any assumptions, but you can think of one very good reason for them to be alarmed – your little out of body experience. How, though, could they know about that already?

>I don't know why they're worried. You tell me
>A strange thing happened to me. I... left my body
>They're just worried because we're getting too good
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3590616
>Close the door first
iirc Fletcher's office is like the one place free of bugs since he cleared them out.

>A strange thing happened to me. I... left my body. I saw your operation.

>>3590616
>>A strange thing happened to me. I... left my body

This, at least, is fairly easy to prove to him, as we rode along on that mission.


I know we shouldn't entirely trust him, but he's been the most level with us out of everyone here. Plus, I assume as we've already told our fellow pilots about this it's come out sooner or later.

>>3590616
>>A strange thing happened to me. I... left my body

Gesturing for Fletcher to wait, you rise from your seat and shut the door, leaning heavily back against it just in case. “A strange thing happened to me,” you begin, pitching your voice low, “I... this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I can prove it. I left my body, and went somewhere else.” Fletcher doesn't recoil in horror at your words, instead silently gesturing for you to continue. “I followed you. Well, I followed Cam. You took a helicopter to the mountains, to a manor deep in some forest,” you continue, and this time Fletcher's eyes widen a little, “You were going after Lindgren, and that “errand” you mentioned was taking a copy of his archives.”

“Normally, I'd ask which one of my men talked, but... I don't think they did. So perhaps you're onto something here,” Fletcher concedes, “And you think this out of body experience is why head office is so riled up.”

“Yeah. I mean, I can't think of anything else,” you reply with a shrug, “I just don't know how they found out.”

“We can figure that out later. I'll have to ask you for a full debriefing – everything you saw and experienced, even details you might consider small or unimportant – but that can come later. For now, we need to focus on Matheson. Personal habits aside, I'm not entirely sure why she would be a danger,” the mercenary thinks aloud to himself, “If you were to have a long conversation, she might bring up sensitive subjects – that's part of her job – and those distractions might, in turn, hinder your combat effectiveness. That's all I can think of.”

You're not sure if that makes things better or worse. “Her job is to be a pain in the ass?” you ask dubiously, “Are you sure she isn't with the UN?”

“Technically, I think she's one of ours, but that doesn't mean much these days,” the mercenary remarks, “But yes, part of her job is to identify your emotional weaknesses. Nevada taught us that the Lilim may try to exploit them. It isn't pleasant to face up to your weaknesses, but sometimes it's necessary. A Lilim won't pause the therapy session and ask if you want to take a break. Matheson... might. No promises on that front.”

A humourless laugh escapes you, only to be cut off as Fletcher's desk phone rings. Pressing a finger to his lips, he answers it and listens. “Yes, she's here with me now. There was a security issue that needed addressed,” he replies, “She didn't recognise one of the new guards, thought he might have been a spy. You know what it's like these days – we can't be too careful. I need her to file a report, so we might be some time. An hour should be fine, yes.”

“Matheson?” you guess as Fletcher hangs up, “Thanks for covering for me.”

“It's only an hour,” he warns, “You'd better make the most of it. What were you planning on doing?”

“I thought about doing a runner,” you admit, “Maybe hang out with Bergmann for the day. Weird, I know, but...”

[1/2]

>>3590662

“If you really are concerned about Matheson, that might not be a bad idea. Bergmann told me that she's going to be at her apartment all day. If there's an emergency, I might need to get in contact with her. She's no friend of Matheson either, so she's likely to sympathise if you explain your situation. However, there is one question I'd like to ask you,” Fletcher tells you, tapping the tablet, “Are you worried because of what this “Phantom” said, or because you know that Matheson is likely to ask about your parents?”

Opening your mouth to answer this, you feel your cheeks heat up and hurriedly shut your mouth again. Silently, stubbornly, you shake your head.

“Fine. That wasn't a fair question to ask,” Fletcher sighs, “The way I see it, I can't stall Matheson forever. You'll have to decide what to do – meet up with her now, or find somewhere else to be. You were right to bring this to me, and I appreciate that, but there's only so much I can do.”

Finally, in a quiet voice, you speak up. “What could Phantom want?” you ask softly, not even caring that you're avoiding the real subject, “Why now, of all times?”

“Maybe they think they understand Matheson better than I do, and they're trying to protect you from whatever threat they think she poses. Alternatively, they might believe that Matheson can help you, and they want to prevent that,” Fletcher sighs, “We don't know what this Phantom wants – whether they want to win you over to their side, harm you, or just slow us down while they pursue their own goals. Without knowing that, trying to guess their motives is a fool's errand.”

Just like that, you're back in the bad old days of fumbling blindly through an unclear situation. “Can't you just tell Matheson to like, fuck off?” you ask hopefully, “I mean, Monroe kicked Adrian out, so...”

“Technically, this falls under Matheson's jurisdiction. In other words, she's giving the orders right now,” he answers, “So... sorry, but there's nothing more I can do.”

Shit.

>It's time to face the music and see Matheson
>You can still slip away and hide out with Bergmann
>You've got time to talk with Fletcher some more... (Write in)
>Other

>Sorry for the delay, I'm feeling pretty low energy today. I'll try to keep things moving

>>3590797
>>You can still slip away and hide out with Bergmann
Rebellious teen go!

I dunno Matheson seems sketchy. Coming right after our astral projection, needing an entire day for what's supposed to be counseling, and that time she warped Claudia's attitude for a little bit after her ADM woke up. Just get bad vibes

>>3590797
>>It's time to face the music and see Matheson
Just the once. If she ends up hanging around, I doubt we'll want to keep going.

>>3590797
>You can still slip away and hide out with Bergmann
I want to know what Bergmann's beef with her is.

>>3590797
>You've got time to talk with Fletcher some more... (Write in)
Show him Wilson's Note, then tell him about what we saw in the Garden (the Chair with the restraints that the Lilum keep showing us.)
Then
You can still slip away and hide out with Bergmann.

>>3590836
I don't think Fletch would know anything about Circle Eleven. We'd have to press the Doc

>>3590797
>>It's time to face the music and see Matheson

>>3590797
>Meet Matheson

We're not going to write her off without seeing her face to face.

>>3590846
The point was to make it obvious that there is something else going on here that contradicts what Fletcher is saying(Based on what we say at the garden it has nothing to do with our parents.)

Also does anyone think that Monroe was acting weirdly when she told us to check our Email it's kind of like she knew that their was a message waiting.

Now that we know that people can be influenced this may be worth keeping an eye on

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>Okay, looks like we're at a stalemate so I'm going to roll off to break this. We'll go with 1 for visiting Matheson and 2 for hiding out with Bergmann. Sorry about this, but I'll get writing as soon as possible

“Maybe there is something else you can do,” you tell Fletcher slowly, “It's... I guess it might be related to Matheson, or her area of expertise at least. I just don't want to tell HER without hearing what YOU have to say first. It's something I saw in the Garden, in that dome. The Lilim there showed me something – a circle of chairs, eleven of them, all with restraints. There were kids being strapped into them, and I think... I was one of them. It was a test of some kind. Before he died, Wilson wrote a note. Well, more like a few words. Bergmann, Circle Eleven, and my name.”

“And you've spoken to Doctor Bergmann about this?” Fletcher asks quietly, “If her name was mentioned...”

“She told me that “Circle Eleven” was the name of the screening tests we had. You know, the blood tests. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you explain, “But I think she was lying. I mean, she has to be, right?”

Grimacing, Fletcher massages his brow as if warding off a headache. “The research data we... recovered... from Lindgren's manor is more complete than the archives we previously had access to,” he explains, “There were certain sections that we weren't able to access before. I can search for any reference to “Circle Eleven” in them if you want. If Wilson wrote it down before he died, he must have thought it was important. Since Doctor Bergmann is out of the office today, I can search the archives without worrying about her noticing.”

“So I guess there's one good thing about Matheson's visit,” you murmur, smiling faintly to yourself.

“Two things, maybe,” Fletcher replies vaguely, “I have a little project of my own in the works, but we won't see any results until tomorrow. If we see any results at all.” Shaking his head, the mercenary leans back and gets back to the matter at hand. “In either case, Matheson might have a theory about that scene you described. Something like a repressed memory, perhaps,” he suggests, giving you a shrug, “Although that doesn't necessarily mean it happened. It could be the memory of something you saw on TV as a child. Anything, really. You said it yourself, this might be more her area of expertise.”

It might be, you think to yourself, but you feel a strange reluctance to tell her. It goes above and beyond your reluctance to see the doctor herself. This is YOUR memory, and you're not going to share it with just anyone. Foolish? Maybe, but that's just the way you are.

“Yeah, fuck it, I guess I should face the music. Running away from a fight was never really my style anyway,” you decide with a low sigh, “I gotta ask, though. What's with that wig Matheson wears?”

“Oh, that?” Fletcher shakes his head, “She was sick a few years back. Cancer, I think, although she kept her treatment very quiet. For someone who pries into other people's lives for a living, she's surprisingly private.”

[1/2]

>>3591066

“Well, you're back,” Matheson announces with a smile, “I thought you might have ran away for a moment there!” Flinching at this, you hurriedly shake your head. “But you did the right thing. We've all got to take security seriously these days. I don't want to be dour, but anyone could be an enemy these days,” she continues, “Of course, if one of my patients said that to me, I'd scribble down a little note that said “paranoia” and... not funny?”

Swallowing heavily, you let out a faltering little laugh. The way she mentioned running away like that, it seemed far too calculated to be a guess. Maybe this is some of that paranoia she was talking about. “So,” you begin, “How are we going to do this?”

“I asked Diane to send you a plan for the day. Did you get it?” Matheson takes out a pad of paper and skims down it, “Now... I thought we might start with a little informal chat, just to get to know one another, and then we'd move onto something more serious. We'll talk through some things – so long as you're comfortable – and then we can take a break. Have you ever tried meditation? I can't recommend it highly enough!”

God help you, that's only the morning. Maybe this is the danger Phantom warned you about – she's going to bore you to death.

“Now, we're running a little behind today – and I'm not blaming you – so...” taking a pen out of her pocket, Matheson taps it against the pad of paper. As she thinks, she strokes her chin. It's strange to see such a “Fletcher” gesture coming from a woman, and you recall what the man himself said about her imitations. You trust Fletcher, she's copying Fletcher's body language, so you're supposed to trust her as well. That's the theory, at least – in practice, the display just puts you on edge. “So what do you say to skipping the small talk and getting straight to business?” she offers at last, “It might be a little awkward for both of us, though. I really do prefer to build a rapport with my patients.”

“I'm not really one of your patients, though,” you point out, your comment causing Matheson to scribble down a quick note, “And hey, what did you just write about me?”

“I'm sorry, but my notes are confidential. If you saw them, it might cast bias over the entire session,” Matheson muses, still writing, “Now, tell me about your friends. About the other pilots.”

“Uh... is this the small talk part, or the straight to business part?” you ask, but Matheson just smiles down at her pad of paper, “Okay, whatever, who do you want to know about?”

“Just tell me whatever comes to mind first. Don't think too hard about it,” she urges, “When you think of your friends, who do you think of first?”

Don't think too hard about this, she says...

>I think about... (Write in)
>Other

>>3591168
>I think about... (Write in)
Claire obviously

Though if it's specifically pilots I guess Claudia since we spent some time her recently sword fighting and all.

>>3591168
>?
Does Nate count as a pilot? Otherwise, Juliet, but I think that's just because she's the new kid on the block.


>>3591066
>“In either case, Matheson might have a theory about that scene you described. Something like a repressed memory, perhaps,”
While I suspect repressed memory is the truth, I don't think sharing that is a good idea.

>For someone who pries into other people's lives for a living, she's surprisingly private.”
Gives the people she's prying into less defensive leverage.

>>3591168
>I think about Claire
I wonder what MAtheson will say to that

>>3591168
>I think about... (Write in)
Claire
the only potential answer i could think of that would confound her would be Clay( the one that talked about smashing the car.)

>>3591203
Man we haven't interacted with baseball gang in forever. Might've been regulated to 'offscreen during school'

>>3591168
Fuck it, Claire. Let's go.

>>3591168
>>I think about... (Write in)
Claire.

How do you answer something like this without thinking about it? Before you can even think about not thinking about it, Matheson snaps her fingers and dives into her bulky handbag. Emerging a moment later, she holds up a tiny recorder. “Sorry, I forgot to mention, I'm going to need to record this. It's so I have something to check later, if I miss something from my notes,” she explains, “You don't mind, do you?”

“I'm used to it,” you reply, “They record us all the time in this place anyway.” Stupid, stupid, stupid thing to say! Matheson raises an eyebrow – although it looks painted on – but says nothing, taking down a note instead. “Well, if I had to pick the first thing that comes to mind, I'd say Claire,” you answer, “She's my oldest friend, and like, she dropped her entire life to come here with me. I'm a pilot, so I've got a big important job to do, but she just... wanted to be there for me.”

“I can see that that means a lot to you,” Matheson agrees, nodding fondly, “But you know, you can't just build your entire life around one person. One day, that person might not be there for you.”

“Nah,” you counter, “Claire's gonna be there for me, no matter what.”

“Maybe I wasn't talking about you,” the doctor muses, “Claire, after all, isn't the one with a dangerous job. How do you think she would feel if something were to happen to you? As you say, she left behind her old life to come here.” Setting her pen aside, Matheson checks her recorder before looking back to you. “Did the possibility ever cross your mind?” she asks softly, lightly, “Did you ever actually think about that? About her?”

“That...” you begin, floundering as you try to answer her questions. Is your friendship really that one-sided? No, it can't be – Matheson just doesn't GET how you and Claire are.

“I'm not accusing you of anything,” Matheson gently assures you, “But it can be hard to get an unbiased view of a relationship that you're deeply involved in. Think on it, but later. For now, how about the other pilots?”

Safer territory, at least. “There's... there's... Claudia,” you murmur, trying to gather your thoughts, “We were goofing around the other day, playing with sticks. It was fun, but... she never lets anyone see that side of her. She's always covering it up with sarcasm and cynicism.”

“Maybe she doesn't want anyone else to see that side of her. You must mean something special to her,” Matheson suggests, “Hmm... not too long after you met, you punched her in the face didn't you?”

You wince a little at the memory. “That's not fair, we weren't really fighting. We were just... sparring,” you explain, “And she needed to take the blow. It taught her an important lesson!”

Murmuring a vague confirmation to herself, Matheson scratches down another note. A long note, this time.

[1/2]

>>3591300

Matheson keeps writing, her pen positively leaping across the page. Sweat builds at the small of your back as you watch her carefully fold the page over and start a fresh sheet of paper. Just to break the silence, you clear your throat. “So...” you mumble, “Did I pass?”

“This isn't a test. You can't pass or fail,” Matheson assures you without looking up from her notes, “Now what about school? Have you been making any friends outside of NERV?”

“Well... there was the baseball team, although we don't see each other much. Between one thing and another, I took some time off school recently. The team doesn't play much either – they're not really INTO the game, you know? It's just an excuse to hang out for most of them,” you explain, thinking back to school, “Even the leader, Clay, isn't super serious about it. He's a good guy and all, but... I dunno. I guess I've just got too much going on right now, I barely have the time to hang out with “normal” people.”

Matheson looks up. “Do you see yourself as “abnormal” then?” she wonders, “And how would you define normal?”

“Well, uh, piloting a giant biomechanical war machine isn't normal,” you point out, grateful for the opportunity to take refuge in a sassy comment, “I don't think we really need to debate THAT point.”

Accepting your answer with a nod and a smile, Matheson pushes her pad of paper aside. “Maybe we'll come back to that subject,” she decides, “For now, I'd like to talk about something a little more serious, just like we discussed. We can stop whenever you like, just tell me if you're starting to feel uncomfortable. So, your parents...”

Here it comes. The worst bit is, there's nothing that you can tell her that she likely doesn't already know. Somewhere between a formality and a farce, this is something you've been expecting ever since Fletcher told you about the doctor.

“Your father was a distant man, more focused on his business and his machines than taking care of his family. Your mother... well, I've never had the pleasure of meeting her myself, so I can only say so much, but she shows many of the typical signs of psychosis. It must have been difficult, growing up in an environment like that,” Matheson pauses, her pen poised to take down your answer to her next question, “Do you resent them at all?”

Of all the questions she could have asked, this was not one that you had been expecting. Do you resent them? What kind of question is that?

>I... (Write in)
>Other

>>3591369
>I... (Write in)
I Don't know.

I don't know why but feel she really shouldn't be providing her insight on the questions as she asks them if she wants any kind of results there has to be something else going on here.

>>3591369
>I... (Write in)
"A little I guess. Mom just hated me and Dad wasn't around. I never got a 'Why' they were like that which might be the most irritating thing of it all. Just everyday life at the Reynold household."

>>3591369
>Yeah I resent them loads. Tons. Heaps of resentment.

>>3591369
>?
We don't know enough about Holly's past to make for an easy answer here.
Resent them? For what? Dislike them, sure.
Well, I could see a train of thought were we do resent them for bringing a child into the world that they clearly didn't want. I wonder if the mother traped the father with her. I don't see him deciding to have a kid.. I dunno if Holly has enough distance to come to that sort of conclusion though.


>biomechanical
uh, how well is that known? Holly knows from snooping, but the official presentation is that they are purely mechanical, right?

>>3591369
>>3591436
I'll support this.

“Do I resent them?” you repeat softly to yourself, trying to figure out your own complicated feelings. Maybe this is what Fletcher meant when he talked about confronting unpleasant memories. For so long, you've done your best to just not think about them – to focus on what was right in front of you, whether it was life in boarding school or your time with NERV. Now you're being asked to go back to a time best left forgotten.

“Don't overthink it,” Matheson urges, “Just tell me the first thing that crosses your mind. Quick thoughts, don't stop to analyse them. Just-” She snaps her fingers for emphasis, the metallic sheen of her nails glinting in the flat light of the room.

“I don't know, okay? I really don't know!” you snap back at her, “Like maybe I feel like I should, but then I don't. Or some other times, I wish things could have been normal between us and I feel bad, 'cause folk like Yulia don't have any parents at all. I don't know if I resented THEM, or it I resented not knowing why things were how they were. I never understood any of it – I didn't know why he would take any excuse to stay away from us. I never understood why she just... hated me so much. Even if the answers were bad, I'd prefer them to just not knowing. Is that it? Is that what you want to hear?”

“I want to hear the truth,” she murmurs, “I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth. You do want me to help you, don't you?”

Slowly, you start to shake your head. Then you shrug instead. “I don't think you can help me,” you admit, “I want answers, but there are only two people on this planet who could give them to me.”

Leaning forwards, Matheson almost puts her hand on your shoulder. She stops herself before touching you, and you feel absurdly glad of that. “Pretend that I am,” she insists, “What would you ask me?”

“I'd ask them why,” you ask simply, the words spilling from your lips, “Why would you bring a child that you never wanted into this world?”

Matheson says nothing, leaving that question hanging in the air. The weight of it settles over you, and you feel your shoulders slump. You've avoided the issue for so long now, but hearing those words aloud really grinds home the truth. An unwanted child. Unwanted, unloved, with nowhere to truly call home. No matter how far you run, no matter what you achieve, nothing you do will ever change that.

“I think we should take a break,” Matheson murmurs to you, rising smoothly from the desk and turning away from you. “The other pilots are afraid of you,” she adds casually, “They don't want to get hurt, so they tell you whatever you want to hear. Really, you're no better than a common thug.”

[1/2]

>>3591576
Oh that last one is a lie Holly. Don't fall for it.

I knew this bitch was bad news.

>>3591576
And so it begins.

>>3591576
>Really, you're no better than a common thug.”
And now comes the bit where she tries to get a rise out of us. That's especially low to do it right after she was open with you.

>>3591589
Do you think we should ask for a copy of the talk so we can show the others

>>3591576
Oh no, she's destroying our Ego.

>>3591576
KILL HER, HOLLY. You know you want to.

>>3591576

Those words, so sly and unexpected, jab at you. No, it's worse than that – they tear into you like talons. You should be angry, you will yourself to be angry, but the old, familiar fury just won't come. Where it should be, you just feel a deep hollow.

“What?” you gasp, your voice hoarse, “Why would you... what did you just say to me?”

“I said that we should take a break,” the doctor repeats with deliberate calm, “Holly? Are you feeling okay?”

Clenching your fist until you feel fingernails piercing the skin of your palm, you force yourself to focus. If you can't have anger, a cold concentration might be the next best thing. “You called me a thug,” you insist, pointing at the recorder, “Just... just rewind a few moments and...”

Matheson blinks in confusion, picking up the recorder and rewinding it a few minutes. Setting it to play. “I think we should take a break,” the tinny recording repeats, “Only about ten minutes, I'd say, just in case you want to get a drink of-”

With a hard click, Matheson stops the recording and you feel your stomach lurch. “These sessions can be a little intense at times,” she whispers to you, “It's okay to get a little confused. That's another reason why I keep a recording – so we can set the record straight. I would always urge my patients to listen to their feelings, but never to the expense of hard evidence. Well, that's neither here nor there right now. Are you sure that you're feeling okay?”

“I'd like to take a break now,” you rasp, unable to meet her eyes, “Maybe... a little longer than ten minutes?”

“Actually, I think we could bring this session to a close here,” Matheson decides, placing the cap back on her pen with a flourish, “We're finished for today.”

>As the lady says, I think I'm going to finish things here for today. I'll be continuing this tomorrow, though
>Thank you for your patience today!

>>3591639
Reminds me of that time we were with Juliet, hit our head and everyone else saw something different in the cameras. Man I have no idea if it's Holly internally, that presence that we know can fuck with people, or NERV.

Thanks for running Moloch.

>>3591639
Thanks for running!

>>3591639
That's some hi-tech gaslighting.

>>3591639
Thanks for the run.
>>3591648
.Implying it's not all of them simultaneously.

>>3591639
Thanks fir running.

Yeah, we're not going back there. She's screwing with us.

>>3591639
Thanks for running!

We aren't even an uncommon thug?

>>3591639
getting the advance warning with juliet that these kinds of things can happen is a massive help to Holly.

We gotta tagteam Claire for some dual AT stuff as soon as possible.

> Speaking roughly, you must employ either blackguards or gentlemen, or, best of all, blackguards commanded by gentlemen, to do butcher’s work with efficiency and despatch.

Better a thug than a skinhead pogue.

File: ClaireS.png (301 KB, 900x700)

301 KB PNG

“What if she's right, though?” you murmur, staring up at the blank ceiling, “What if I really am a horrible friend?”

“Man, fuck Matheson. That cancer must have eaten up her brains or something,” Claire urges, poking you on the arm until you sullenly turn away from her. “Oh what, you think you're going to be a better friend by ignoring me? If that's where your train of thought is going, I think it derailed somewhere way back,” she continues, a scowl in her voice, “Just in case you didn't catch that, I said you're an idiot. You're acting like one, at least.”

It wouldn't be so bad, you find yourself thinking, if Matheson hadn't vanished off so suddenly. She got you to lower your guard, to open yourself up, and then she left you with a new set of gaping wounds. With vague horror, you realise that some part of you wants her to come back – to offer you some measure of closure, even if it's not what you want to hear. This must be what an alcoholic feels every time they walk past the liquor store. Monroe might know more about that, though.

“Look, I am explicitly telling you that she is a massive asshole who doesn't know what she's talking about,” Claire stresses, “I'm not here because I'm afraid you beating me up or whatever, and being here with you is WAY better than the boarding school. Hell, we've got a maid here!”

“Claudia has a maid,” you point out, your voice wooden, “We just leech off her.”

“Giving her the ol' sucky sucky, huh?” Claire teases. When you fail to laugh, she lets out a low grunt of frustration. The bed squeaks as she gets up, stomping out and closing her bedroom door behind her.

This is all Matheson's fault, you know that, and yet still you feel the urge to go crawling back to her. Rolling over again, you fumble for your tablet and fire it up. Entering the Labyrinth, you lose yourself in the first message.

HLLY06: Okay, so maybe you were right.
HLLY06: How did you know M was such a bitch?
Phantom: We have some history with her. It's not easy to talk about.
HLLY06: Yeah, but fuck you. Talk about it anyway, don't just act all cryptic at me.
HLLY06: Hello?
Phantom: She was connected to an associate of mine. It's complicated. Most of my knowledge comes second hand from him. He's aware of just bad she can be. I have to ask. What did you do to deserve this?
HLLY06: Exist, I guess. I don't know. It's not like she asked me about anything relevant. She just gave me a bunch of crap about how much of an awful friend I am.
Phantom: I don't think you're an awful friend.
Phantom: From what we have observed, I mean.

“From what we have observed...” you repeat aloud to yourself, staring at the softly glowing screen for a long while afterwards.

[1/2]

>>3593832

Lying there in the darkness, you keep coming back to one terrible idea – what if Matheson was right about you? From pushing Yulia around to berating Monroe, you've spent so much of your time here snarling and spitting threats at people. If it wasn't for your ability to pilot an ADM Unit, they would never tolerate your behaviour. Hell, Monroe almost said that exact thing to you once, although she cloaked it in careful language – NERV was willing to accommodate your “eccentricities”.

Mouthing a silent curse, you rise from your bed and wander out into the main room. It's deserted, this late at night, but you hear muffled voices coming from the games room. Quietly entering, you see Claudia and Hester gathered around the pool table, deeply focused on their game. Glancing up, Claudia studies you for a moment. “Hester,” she begins, making up her mind about something, “I find myself with a thirst. Could you fix us some tea?”

“Of course, mistress,” the maid replies, bowing slightly and breezing out of the room. Once you're alone with Claudia, the heiress gives you a nod of greeting.

“You look like you've got something on your mind,” she deduces, “You were meeting with Doctor Matheson today, weren't you? How did that go?”

“Not... well,” you admit, “She called me a common thug.”

“Well, you're many things but you're certainly not common!” Claudia laughs, “But that does seem oddly rude. When I spoke with her, she was far kinder. She told me that I was special, that I could do things that no-one else could. She told me that I was destined for great things.”

How poisonous those words seem now! “You can't trust her,” you urge, shaking your head, “Can't you see that she's just-”

“Telling me what I wanted to hear? The idea had occurred to me,” Claudia interrupts, “But... have you ever wondered how I feel? No matter what I do, what I achieve, you're always there going one better. I had the highest compatibility score, and then you arrived. I entered a Lilim portal, then you did the same while fighting one of those bastards. Now you're learning to leave your body whenever you feel like it!”

“But... Claudia, it's not a competition!” you protest. How can she just turn this around and make it all about her? This isn't like her, like the girl you were play fighting with not so long ago. This is all wrong...

“I know that. I know that we all have the same goal here. We're all trying to protect mankind, blah blah blah,” she stresses, her hard shrug revealing a raw frustration, “But is it really so bad to listen to some honeyed words every now and then?”

>You need to grow up. This isn't all about you, Claudia!
>Stop it! Can't you see that Matheson is trying to turn us against each other?
>I didn't know you felt that way, Claudia. I'm... sorry
>You... (Write in)
>Other

>>3593835
>She really knows which buttons to press on people, eh? You're lucky yours is flattery, mine seems to be straight up bullying.

Sigh and whine. Keep the tone as casual and unantagonistic as possible and reframe the situation as Matheson manipulating us both.

>>3593835
Supporting >>3593857
This new Phantom is providing information about themselves for some reason, we should update Fletcher on the information whenever we see him next

>>3593835
>>I didn't know you felt that way, Claudia. I'm... sorry

>>3593835
>I didn't know you felt that way, Claudia. I'm sorry I'm so much better than you in every way. Except being fat.

THE BEST

also claire is the new phantom. Anyone notice that we only talk to phantom when she's offscreen?

>>3593883
Then who would be their shared associate?