Chapter 11 ROAD TO DAMASCUS

...

W has gotten herself in a pretty strange situation. Ever since Talulah announced to all the Reunion that there may be a traitor in its ranks, and a deeply rooted one as well, everyone has been put into strict supervision and surveillance, herself included. Considering that she has intentionally hidden the fact that she discovered an interesting gun and some unusual ID card of some rather curious design to herself, it would be plain to see what would happen to her if Talulah found that out. Even if she wasn't a traitor, or at least not yet. And it certainly didn't help that there were whispers of a new elusive and mysterious force that moved in the darkness of the night and their supposed terrifyingly bone-chilling legend that had exploded across the members of The Reunion like wildfire. The so-called myth they proclaimed is titled , “The Ghosts of Chernobog'' An apparently malevolent group of spiritual supernaturals that were responsible for the mysterious deaths of the multiple Reunion squadrons in that one fateful and dreadful night.

The popular theory that the Reunion grunts made up in their creative imaginations was that they operated something they called “Ghost Guns". They were named that way due to the lack of Originium traces and signs in the weirdly built casings found and the puzzling autopsy reports, but the most terrifying reason was because in further inspection of incident, the bullet seem to penetrate the Reunion armor in just one shot, like it just past through. Tearing the armor apart like it was no more than just a piece of cardboard from a leftover pizza takeout box somewhere hidden in a dumpster. The thought and theory made a majority of the general regular footsoldier shook in fear as some even started to strap extra pieces of sheet metal to their vests in deep worry.

Of course W knew most of these rumors were false, nothing more than gibberish and were just made up by anxious low rate grunts, but she knew there was some truth to the capability of the weapon theorized. Why? Because she's the only one who found one of those rumored “Ghost Guns” or at least something similar to it and even had the opportunity to use it herself. But of course the Reunion didn't know that yet, and she would try to make sure they never will.

The majority of The Reunion right now is situated at a massive camp deep inside the heart of Chernobog, where the mansions and palaces of the old rulers used to live. Most of those authoritative and luxury houses of both flaunty rich Chernobogians and elite government officials were burnt down by the seething rage of Talulah's devouring flame during the invasion, but not all of it was made to gray ashen dust. So here lies the plaza of the surviving ritzy hotels, mansions and once government and military strongholds now used as a temporary headquarters of the Reunion Movement.

W entered one of the buildings, and went directly to her personal quarters, opened the door and quickly locked it. W, being the sneaky cockroach she is, overheard that Talulah ordered an inspection of every single commander's room in the early morning, so she needed to do something about that. She took a rusty crowbar from a box of tools at the bottom of her desk and started removing some specific wooden floor boards in one side of her room, gently doing so to make no noise. After a bit of work, she pulled out a black bag, hidden under some dirt. The bag contained the unmarked gun and the other things she found, and kept to herself. Quickly putting back the wooden tiles like nothing ever happened, she took the bag with her and hid it with another bag. She slowly opened her door again and after checking if the coast was clear, she quickly walked the long hallway and walked her way up to a flight of stairs.

There she saw a window, just big enough for her to get out of. It was turning night, most of the guards were busy eating their dinner and taking showers to wash the grime and sweat after a long day, a nigh perfect time to try to sneak out.

And with a calculated jump, she exited the building that she was at. Thankfully the shrubbery below helped in suppressing the noise made by her leap of faith. There wasn't that much guards at her current residence, with her being a commander that the Reunion member's feared, but there was still a checkpoint at the main exit of the Reunion camp inside Chernobog, and the guards there were instructed to check every single bag and pocket, even of it was a commander as it was by Talulah's orders herself, so W needed another way out. She made her way to a small manhole cover located near her residence, she opened it up slowly and jumped in.

The sewers and underground portions of Chernobog weren't patrolled by guards, but there were still some watching over every single exit that led to a place outside the Reunion Camp. The only solution to this type of entrapment was to make your own exit, thankfully she was good at that. Taking her pre-planned route down the depths, while muttering swears to herself due to the absolutely horrid smell of excretions and rat corpses, she quickly placed some of her explosives on a pretty isolated area underground. After a while of double checking the area near and the integrity of the structure she was about to make some personal adjustments to, she clicked a button on her detonator, smiling the whole time.

Click, and Boom. It's that easy. No one heard it, but she still checked the areas nearby before proceeding out the blasted hole she made. W was now at another underground complex of the Nomadic City, separate from the sewer below the Reunion camp. Now, all she had to do was to go to a pretty far away area and find a place to temporarily hide the bag.

She hummed an old Sarkaz folk song while walking through the underground complex carefree, like everything she just did was nothing more than a walk in the park. As of right now she still hasn't thought of a proper plan on trying to contact or investigate the mysterious organization which she just recently found out about.

““Central Intelligence Agency, Central Intelligence Agency, United States of America, United States of America, Ce-”” She repeated the name in her mind constantly, trying to connect anything to it, but nothing so far seemed to ring a bell.

Though from the ID card, the gun and the recent incident, she theorized that they were the ones responsible for everything that has happened so far, from both the sudden disaster at the invasion and the Ghosts of Chernobog Incident. It was clear that they were involved somehow, but she still didn't know in what way.

Faust is still unresponsive, comatose and stuck for who knows how long in bed. Mephisto is awake, unfortunately or fortunately, he is stuck, frozen in some heavily anxious, maybe permanent PTSD type of mental state that almost made her pity him. He's always watching over Faust in his room and has disagreed to even try to take command again, even though his wounds are slowly healing. The only piece of info he gave about the unexpected slaughter of most of his forces that day, was that there was a man, wearing a black suit and tie, uncannily similar to the pieces of torn cloth she saw nearby the ground when she first found the gun. Mephisto also said that if it weren't for him and his weapon, which he happens to identify as a gun, Rhodes Island wouldn't have gotten away, and his army wouldn't have been annihilated like ants. So far no one except the top brass of the Reunion was made wary of this fact.

W was sure of it, the mysterious text of “LCSNAFU” written on the card was a sort of code name, the individual being the owner of the gun and quite possibly a member of the Central Intelligence Agency, and maybe even one of the people responsible for the Ghosts of Chernobog Incident. But answers lead to nothing but more questions .

““Why?””

W asked herself, the biggest question mark in all of the mysteries surrounding the Central Intelligence Agency and the recent killings, the simple yet complicated question of why. Was it as simple as hating the Infected? W hoped it wasn't something like that, but for her to know the truth, she needed to meet one of them, no matter what. For one to seek the truth, something so elusive and easily manipulated, one must first look at the most basic of straight facts, and this is how the sarkaz found her very first clue.

““Rhodes Island, right! Rhodes Island!”” W finally recognized the important detail that she somehow almost missed. The man who almost killed both Mephisto and Faust, was fighting allied to that damned pharmaceutical company, Rhodes Island. ““Are they my first lead?”” W thought, her grin growing wider by the second. After all she had some unresolved business with RI, and if it seems that the mysterious agency was also affiliated with them, then going after RI would be killing two birds with one stone. Her eyes twitched in excitement. ““Just you wait. I'll have my chance sooner or later!””

Now pretty far out of the Reunion camp she looks for a way out underground, and needs to quickly find a place to hide the bag. After taking a turn to a long winding concrete corridor, she saw something that caught her eye. Someone clearly dressed in the usual Reunion uniform, sleeping at the corner, covered in rusty sheet metal, probably using it as a blanket. Curious, she came closer to take a better look at the ignorant sleeping man who occasionally let out a loud, ear grating snore. This person was in deep sleep, which was also evident by the fact that he didn't have his mask on. His bare, close-eyed face exposed, out there in the open and cold, and that's when she realized.

““Pavel?””

Pavel Smerdyakov, one of her assistants that was presumed dead. After all, he belonged to one of the Reunion patrol groups that had mysteriously died that night. But to now find him here, sleeping and alive, how curious. Coming closer she took the sheet metal away from him and carefully tied his hands without waking him. After all that preparation, she gently whispered in his ear.

“Hey~ wake up won't you?”

She was left without response except for the heavy snores of Pavel. Annoyed, she instead chose to kick him awake. Pavel gasped and screamed as he woke up, kicking his feet in response before even taking a glance at W, but when he did, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in fear. “C-Comander W?” “Yes, that's me.” “W-Why are you here?!” “Am I not allowed to?” She smiled at him. “N-No that's now what I meant, uhh-” W didn't want to waste any more time beating around the bush, after all she still needed to show herself back at the Reunion camp, so she pressed her boots in Pavel's right hand, sticking it to the ground, the man groaned in agony. “Listen, say everything that has happened that night and maybe I'll let you live, okay?” Pavel stared at her, dumbstruck that this was happening to him, again.

…

Area 555

Except for some selected pieces of information that were deemed “Unnecessary”, most of the info gained from Task Force Monad's expedition into the BFMC were distributed to the rest of the organization, and they surprisingly took it well. Maybe it was because the 21st century had dozens and dozens of fictional stories of aliens and worlds separate from earth with their own fantasy universes, that almost all of the organization understood and comprehended the situation they were in as easy as just reading a fictional fantasy novel.

Some were even excited in the aspect of exploring this new world and its inhabitants, even more so when they saw the girl with the odd, eye-catching inhuman features, which is that of a pair of animal ears and a long extending tail. Oswald could never understand the sparkling excitement of the younger, more youthful members of the CIA, but at least some of the despair of leaving earth was alleviated. The scientists were also greatly interested in her, being the first ones trying to ask for permission to run tests and diagnostics on the otherworld girl, however Haber himself stepped in to prevent some repeat of starting another dumpster fire like Project Artichoke, giving only permission on the most simplest tests only.

Some of the agents who had been in the wilds of Africa in one way or another had identified the unusual parts as eerily similar to that of a hyena, a wild, extremely aggressive yet highly intelligent pack animal wired for cooperation to survive with it's clan, sometimes cooperating to kill something as great as a lion, the so called kings of the jungle.

Oswald sighed, he barely had any time to sleep at all, yet he was all over the place it seems. From his office, through multiple meeting rooms, to the drone control centers, it always felt like someone needed him at every room at every second, all at once. All of this was because he was now a leader of a department, The Intelligence and Operations Department no less, being responsible for most of the activities done outside the base. Taking his gold-guilded luxury quill tipped pen laced in glittering white diamonds, he continued to sign multiple documents that needed his express permission. Even in another world, it seemed that everything needed to be regulated and recorded still in these pieces of paper. Though Oswald preferred if he could just use a simple stamp rather than manually signing everything, but at least the pen was nice, it being given to him after he got unexpectedly promoted.

‘“Does the CIA just have these pens lying around every base for when someone gets promoted?””

Oswald thought, but while in the middle of thinking, someone entered his office. Due to the overwhelming amount of people coming to visit him, he had left his door open so people didn't need to knock to go inside. Oswald raised his tired eyes, identifying the man who entered as his assistant, Howard Linham. “Sir!” He greeted, before coming closer to his desk. “What is it this time?” Howard gently placed another document stack directly at Oswald's desks, adding on to the already massive pile of paper. Oswald gave himself a wry smile. “What? Why are there so many? Do they need my permission to nab a couple blades of grass just outside the fences at something?” Howard shook his head, “It's not that bad, Sir. But, at the same time it's basically stuff like that.” Oswald sighed. “Is there anything else?” Howard nodded, “Yes, we've finished organizing.” “Huh? That quick?” “Yes, that quick. As of right now we have the capability to deploy more UAVs to scour the land, helicopter and planes as of right now are still being used conservatively due to resource anxiety, but we're looking into possible solutions to that now.”

Oswald leaned back on his chair, “What? Is Project Nous approved?” “It seems so. Here, read the overview.” Howard handed another document file. Oswald took it and read it out aloud. “OP Nous, this document has been approved by-” he skipped the boring parts, going straight to the body.

“Project Nous is an Intelligence gathering operation with the objective of guaranteeing total security of the agency... Blah Blah Blah- the process would involve multiple operations under the project... The newspaper discovered proved to be an invaluable artifact which confirms that this world's society works similarly to earth albeit a few differences... The languages and writing systems seen coincidentally seem to resemble the common languages of earth... Evidence suggests other cities of sufficiently advanced civilizations exist... Thus it can be assumed that the regular case officer can operate effectively even in this foreign environment...” Oswald flips to the next page stapled unto it. “Damn, so here's the interesting stuff.” He said, referring to the list of operations under the soon to be active Project Nous. Unlike the overview, the pre-planned operations were scarce on their descriptions, only having a sentence or phrase on each. “Op Weaver, An operation to rebuild the Agency's information network... Op Gehlen, An operation to look into groups of interest such as the Reunion and Ursus as possible outlets of supply and trade using a manufactured front organization...Op-” Oswald stopped reading, noticing that his assistant had something to say.

"What? Was there more to report?” “Yes.” Yes, answered Howard. “They said they're ready to interview the extracted subject.” Oswald's attention was grabbed by the mention of the subject. “Really? Which Agent did they pick?” “Some case officer who acted at Sicily, Pablo Asavedo. Nicknamed Alberto Lupo, Cryptonymed as "Colosseum" Half American, Half Italian, he worked against the mafia once and gave us an entire network of moles, he'll do.” Oswald nodded his head, impressed. “They really looked for an Italian to interview her huh?” Oswald noted “Yes they did, Asavedo is a gentle old man on the surface, with his soft demeanor we should be able to disarm the subject mentally.” “What do we know about the subject?”

“Young girl, probably aged somewhere between 18 to 22, she had with her numerous weapons and before being treated, used an armband with a symbol associated to an military organization known as The Reunion.” “I've read about Monad's report, The Reunion is a force driven by hate and change to drive back their oppressors, but unlike our heroic revolutionaries, they do seem to be a little astray in their goals, focusing for revenge rather than giving their people a good life. Well, that is if we believe everything that one guy said, what did he say his name was again?” “The guy they placed a tracker on?” “Yeah, our technically first actual proper communication with the inhabitants here.” “I think he said that his name was, Pavel Smerdyakov, Sir.” “A Russian name, makes you think on how the Italian, english and Russian languages even made it here.” Oswald said, pondering if all of this was just some sort of wild coincidence. “We're not sure, but from all the random sleep talking she'd done, it seems that her Italian is almost the same as ours.” His assistant answered. “So what does the agency plan for the subject?” “I don't know, probably give the girl a road to Damascus, or something.” “So when do I have to go?” “Now, Grant and Laurence are already there, they're waiting for you.” “Really?” “Yes, preferably now.”

Oswald's brain suddenly caught a perfect opportunity to stop looking at his desk covered in white purgatory also known as papers. He stood up from his seat with a grin, handing over the pen to his assistant. “Then, I'll give you permission to sign these documents on my behalf. The people there need me don't they?” “What? Sir, me? Do I have to-” Oswald interrupted Howard by patting his shoulder and giving him a smile and thumbs up. Before exiting through the open door.

…

““Where am I?”” Crownslayer thought to herself, she didn't really remember much after she tried to take down those unusual mercenary looking people, not that she even got a good look at them anyway. All that she remembers was her entire body shutting down in exhaustion, collapsing like a cold corpse just at the exact moment she'd strike, and failed. Her almost fatal injuries got the better of her, she remembers her eyes moistening up a small bit in anticipation for her death, for she didn't want to die yet, at least not until she got her revenge. But that never happened, instead she dreamt, dreamt about Siracusa and her Maestro, and some things she would rather not think about again before waking up in a foreign room.

A massive white bandage had entirely wrapped her wounded arm, and strangely, the pain had subsided a fair bit. She tried to move her legs, yet they wouldn't respond, next was her arm, but it too failed, like her mind was disconnected from her body. ““Strange.”” She thought, being too tired to even panic, she chose instead to scan the room she was in, as she noticed her eyes were the only one she could even move. ““A lot of white.”” She thought, she was laying in a bed, a soft yet springy mattress comforting her behind her back, there wasn't that much in the room, except for some necessary medical equipment and the bed. The most defining characteristic was definitely the massive mirror wall situated at one side of the room. From there she could see a bit of herself, her face was, clean? She remembered being buried in dust and rubble when the catastrophe came, so who helped her?

““This doesn't look like The Reunion. Did those merc looking people choose to spare me?”” Confused as she was, she was happy that she was alive, after all not many people would spare the life of an Infected these days, a member of the Reunion more so. “Is somebody there?” She said, it seems she could control her mouth as well, that's good. “Uh, c'è qualcuno lì?” She repeated her words in Siracusan, yet no one seemed to have heard her, only the stillness of the air, and that's when she felt something in the room changed, something she couldn't explain, but somehow the environment changed. She suddenly started getting sleepy, her eyelids growing heavier by the second, her brain being forced back to the otherworld. She tried her best to resist the weird sleepy feeling, but alas, she failed, again.

Her eyes opened again, the room changed. It was very different from the last, the white room she was in before had a feeling of cold indifference like she was sent to some asylum. This new one however felt like she was in a simple apartment, caramel painted walls with various decor such as paintings and even a wall clock, but the most outrageous thing to her was that there were stuffed animal plushies placed right next to her, a teddy bear and a red, wolf looking thing? She sighed as she realized was still in a bed and the bandage on her arm and some medical equipment from the last room was still present. ““What is going on?”” She thought to herself. But this time she tried to move her hand, and it responded, albeit still weakly. She silently sat up from the bed, her ear stood up listening into any type of movement as she was now getting suspicious about her situation, and at that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in?”

The immediately suspicious voice said, Crownslayer tried to move her legs and stand up instead but even though she could move them, she couldn't fully operate them at full strength. ““Is my body still recovering?”” She thought, her eyes narrowing at the direction of the door, she felt vulnerable as she was basically immobile. “Come in.” She said cautiously. The door opened slowly and gently, revealing a well dressed gentleman who looked like he was in his early forties, neatly tapered light brown hair with hazel eyes and trimmed beard and stache. He looked like someone you'd see for a cologne commercial, especially since he seemed to have a pretty well built body even in his age.

He came closer to the animal-eared human, his eyes seemingly fixated on her ears and tail, which made Crownslayer feel a little weird inside, until she also closely observed him, noticing that he had no visible animal traits on his body, no ears or tail, halo or wings. ““Too tall to be a Durin, is he an Aegir? Or maybe another race?”” Crownslayer glared at him, making her suspicions known to the man, which made him stop in his tracks, raising his arms a bit. “Ciao, my name is Alberto Lupo, Piacere di conoscerti.” The man said, speaking in Italian at the latter part of his introduction. Crownslayer however, was taken aback.

““Alberto Lupo? What kind of name is that? He's not even a Lupo!”” Crownslayer stared at the man weirdly, like how one would stare at a person from florida. She dismissed his name as total hogwash. “Lupo? ” She said, “What a bold name for someone who's not!” She said, making the man’s eyes widen, making him also confused. “But you speak, Siracusan! So who are you really and what do you plan to do with me!?” Crownslayer shouted as she glared at her interviewer. The case officer, who was a tiny bit startled and confused by what the furry was talking about, didn't back down yet. “I mean no harm to you, miss, and I am what I say I am. How about you introduce yourself too?” The man said, taking a chair next to the former Reunion commander’s bed.

Crownslayer silently stared at him, trying to analyze this man's intentions before speaking. “You mean, you don't know who I am?” Alberto was quick on his response. “Excuse me for my ignorance, but that's right.” Crownslayer sighed, after deducting that the man didn't really know who she was. “Fine, you really seem like a fool here. My name's Crownslayer, leader of Reunion. Shocked?” Revealed Crownslayer, but instead of the expected reaction of a man jumping in surprise and fear, it was something else. “Hello, Crownslayer.” Alberto said warmly with a fatherlike smile. “You've been sleeping for quite a long time you know? Do you want to eat something?” The moment the aspect of food had been mentioned, Crownslayer’s stomach suddenly grumbled like an earthquake, making a totally horrendous sound and also making her cheeks blush a quite rare red.

“W-What?” “You fainted when we saved you, and it's been quite a while since you've eaten. You've gotta be hungry, right?” “I-, fine. But how do I get out of here? My body seems to be still too weak to properly move.” Alberto raised a brow. “Really? Try moving again.” Crownslayer followed his advice, trying to move her legs again and surprisingly, this time they moved without restraint, as if she could have always moved them with strength. “Ah, just a moment ago-” “It's probably your body healing faster than you'd expect. Come stand up and stretch for a bit.” Alberto said, smiling as he stood up from a chair he sat upon a while ago. “I know you have many questions, and so do I, but let's not have our stomachs grumbling like that, Sei d'accordo?” Crownslayer was once again a bit weirded out by this man's unusual siracusan, but she responded eitherway. “Certo.”

Crownslayer slowly got up from her bed, she wasn't wearing her original clothes before. She stared at Alberto, her eyes narrowing. “My clothes, what did you do?” “It was necessary to change your clothes, they were very dirty and damaged, but don't worry you'll get them back.” “So you saw them?” Alberto scratches his head awkwardly, thinking that this was about that. “N-No, I didn't do it myself, but don't worry, I can assure you nothing unnecessary happened.” “That's not what I'm talking about.” Said the not-a-wolf, “The numerous Orginium shards that cover my body like plague, unless you're also an Infected, surely that should scare you, no?” Alberto looked at her, then understood what she was talking about. He changed his gaze to one of warm concern, his mouth subtly changing and turning slightly upwards to a smile of reassurance. “You mean Oriphathy? Don't worry about it, it isn't contagious at your stage.” Crownslayer was left speechless, this was not a response she expected. “And besides,” Albert continued, “We're already putting effort into a cure, so don't worry about this stuff too much.”

Crownslayer’s tail suddenly rose up upon hearing him, suddenly stopping in distress. “What's wrong?” “Am- Am I in Rhodes Island?” Alberto tilted his head inquisitively, his mind focused on the fact that she said Rhodes Island, a name eerily similar to the state back home. “The state?” He asked, adjusting the tone of his voice to sound curious and interested. “State? No the pharmaceutical company?” “Oh, no we're not.” Crownslayer sighed in relief, Rhodes Island was literally the last place she would want to be in. But then where was she? As far as she remembers, RI was the only company to ever publicly announce that they're researching a cure for Oripathy, was there a new organization that looked for a cure that the Reunion ignored? “Then, where am I?” Alberto was silent for a few seconds, making Crownslayer tense up again, but then she spoke a truly bizarre question. “Hey, has there been an incident where people from-uhh, other places come into this world?” Crownslayer stared back with a puzzled expression. “Huh?”

___ A/N Writers block hit hard, but better late than never