Interdimensional RED-Coded Contract

Suspicions

Somewhere back on Earth, an impossibly old man took a series of deep breaths. It all came down to this, he had every possible advantage and he's ready to get some answers. That woman is planning something big, very big. Otherwise several people, very important people, wouldn't just mysteriously disappear without a trace, Hale and Miss Pauling included. She must be planning something, the question is… what?

He glanced at the small child at his feet, no more than 10 years old, his ace in the hole. She was trying to burn her infinite energy by attacking the empty air with jabs. Key word: "trying", because ever since her adoption the old man never saw her getting tired. Oh the youth, such a shame it would cost him too much if he tried to be young again.

"Are you ready, Olivia?"

His voice was refined, a bit rough too after so many years of using it. Almost too many years but nonetheless the olive clothed child suspended her training to look up at him with that great smile on her face. "Of course Daddy! Lemme at them!"

Her enthusiasm warmed his heart and smile. He reached to a pocket of his million-dollar gray suit and rewarded the kid with some of her favorite candy, orange flavored. The way her eyes sparked made spending those few cents worth it. But the job quickly reminded itself to him, he can't be idle for too long.

"Let's go." Both of them marched towards his target building. Mann Co. Headquarters. A 112 story-high building and location of THE Saxton Hale's office. His features turned into a scowl after seeing that ugly "We sell weapons and get in fights!" billboard. Ugh, he needs to replace that idiocy…

But not today. Today he's here to get some answers. That woman won't stand in his way to get his true birthright, not her, nor Saxton Hale. He won't repeat his idiotic brothers' mistakes.

Several voices of acknowledgment caught his ears. Behind them were his and Olivia's bodyguards; Gray Gravel's newest batch of robotic mercenaries. Beings stronger, more skilled and better at fightingthan humans. Yet somehow those 9 idiots that Hale hired turned this war into an another stalemate.

Standing right at the bottom of the building, he could see just how big it was. A towering behemoth right in the middle of nowhere. By his calculations if someone called, the police should arrive in approximately 43 minutes. Only if the traffic is good.

Without fear he stepped into the vision of the motion sensor, opening the glass doors and bravely walked into the lobby. While for common folk the room could be interpreted as so luxurious that someone surely had to pour billions into it, to him he couldn't find a more unpleasant place to look at. Olivia also showed her repugnance in the form of her cute little face shifting into disgust once in awhile.

Both of them neared the terrified receptionist, nonchalant to the Robo-Soldier pointing its shotgun at the terrified woman. Fortunately the AI inside machine was smart enough to drag her off the booth, where she couldn't set off any alarms. The woman's eyes widened as she sputtered a name, both out of disbelief and nervousness. "G-G-G-Gray Mann."

"It's Mister Gray Mann to you, show some respect for your elders." He corrected, his voice so casual as if he was talking about the weather. "You can leave here unscratched if you cooperate. All I want is to meet Saxton Hale's aides, where are they?" The name was spat from his lips like it was the most poisonous venom on Earth. Good thing his merc thugs are busy elsewhere, he doesn't need them here.

The woman's eyes darted between him, the robot and the gun it is holding. It was just a moment of her brain matter processing the circumstances and information but the child behind him was already impatient. "C'mon lady! Hurry! Hurry! We're in hurry!"

The receptionist flinched from the shouting, however to Olivia's credit her reaction was positive. "M-Mr. Reddy is in M-Mr. Hale's office. The top floor, o-only room, and o-only accessible through the elevator."

"I see."

Ending the conversation with words cold as winter, Gray Mann walked deeper into the building. Nothing fancy and worth his interest, but at least he didn't need to search deeper as the elevator was just around the corner, suspicious.

"Engineers."

By his orders, two Robo-Engineers stepped out of the group and approached to receive their orders, wrenches already in hands. "Yeah?" They spoke in unison, with their accent mimicking a certain texan engineer.

"Go test this elevator. I want an entrance here and the exit right in front of his office."

"Alrighty then." The robots immediately obeyed, one of them crouched and carefully placed a teleporter entrance, while the other one patiently waited inside the elevator booth. When the doors were closing, the sole-remaining Mann could even see them saluting like soldiers.

They shouldn't have much of a problem, they're durable enough to shrug much of the punishment and enough firepower to only take care of everything but the armored enemies. Which are hard to come by in the buildings. It was laughable how easily they can fall after cutting off power to their precious Re:Spawn System. Even those famous bionics enhancements won't save them. Even the Administrator's lackeys don't stand a chance against his metal army!

If only those 9 brutes fell as easily as them.

Waiting for his Engineers to finish the task gave him an opportunity to steel himself. He relied on a tiny chance that she didn't send him yet, unlike that buffon Hale he was the one in charge of this company's finances. Also de facto the man who's now calling the shots as both Hale and even Bidwell himself were missing. If she did, he's out of leads and forced to play the long game. Too long for his tastes.

"Why is it taking so long!?" Olivia whined, venting her frustration on the Robo-Demoman. However no matter how hard she punches the machine simply ignores her antics. Same with her father because he was on a very important train of thought.

A lot of people suddenly dissapeared, not some random common folk that no one cares about but people known to have contacts with her. Redmond's group is the prime example, she was frantic after their disappearance. Needlessly spending her favors and burning resources, just to find them. It did catch his eye because she wasn't one to burn her money without a good reason.

After them, every disappearance was the same. A shady-looking person with a TV strapped to their chest comes to relay her orders, then after a week later more of her thugs barge in, beat up the person and drag them to a van while looting their home. They're getting transported somewhere while keeping it disguised as kidnapping and stealing. He wouldn't have caught it if wasn't so many people, important-to-her-goals people. Several Mann Co. workers, her own henchmen, even Bidwell himself. The last one was the most suspicious because Saxton Hale would come in fists blazing if that person was even in the slightest trouble.

Just what was her plan?

Without any warning, the teleporter whirled to life. The hum of the idle level 3 teleporter stopped his thoughts. Olivia was the first one to speak up and throw her hands around. "Finally! Let's go Daddy! I wanna lead a company!" She urged, literally pushing him with her body. Of course that was useless but at the same time she looked adorable doing this.

"Yes. Let's get you one."

"Yay!"

With eagerness which melted his cold, gray heart. Olivia and her… Daddy, stepped onto the teleporter and disappeared to who knows where...

To say that Nepgear was shocked would be an understatement. Everyone was having trouble finding a logical reason why the ASIC actually gave them the CPU back. A real Loweean CPU.

Goodness there's Blanc of all people right in front of Nepgear! Not some kind of trap, not Neptune, but Blanc!

Who wouldn't be shocked!? They just rescued a CPU of all people from the ASIC! And it's not even their own one!

Why did the ASIC even keep their word!?

What's the reason!? Where's the logic in all of this!?

The awkward silence was interrupted by the booming sound of Hale's laughing. "Ah! Miss Padding! Nice to see you joining me! Want a steak? I guarantee you that they're great."

"I want one, sir!" Falcom yelled over the N-Gear.

"One for the kiddo in blue, great choice!" Saxton Hale pointed his spatula at IF, not even caring that he doesn't even know her. Though the guild agent felt a bit offended over being called a 'kid'. "Hey!"

"It's Miss Pauling, Hale!" The assistant retorted, cutting those two off. "And what the hell are you doing? How did you even set up a table here!?" Her hands touched the strange furniture and immediately had to ask. "Are those bones and skin?"

"Oh ye, I found some dead, gigantic wolves nearby. Like, really huge ones! Fresh too so I just couldn't let them waste away."

Of course. And he made a table out of them.

No one is even going to question it, Histoire just gave up long ago.

Hale shrugged, cracking a sizeable egg and spilling the contents onto a flat rock. "Also I found some bird nests. You should really see just what weird birds are living here, they look half horse! Weird."

"Those are Horsebird eggs!?" Compa and IF yelled in alarm, the latter frantically watching the skies for an angry momma to swoop down. Horsebirds were very, VERY protective of their children. They could have another fight any second now.

"So that's that they're called, huh?" Hale scratched his ear, thinking. "Pretty crappy name to be honest."

"Screw that, look who I found."Miss Pauling pointed her thumb at the red-coded team. "Team Fortress: your old mercs!" Her choice of words confused the girls. "Team Fortress?" "His old mercs?" Compa and IF repeated, listening in but continuing to watch the skies. Fortunately there was no sign of any furious Horsebirds descending upon them, but they weren't about to let their guard down.

"My mercs? Which ones- Oh.." He turned around and saw them. "Those guys." He stepped closer to the team, and by stepped I meant got right into their faces. Soldier actually paled when the Australian stared him down. "Are they really mercs?" He turned back to the assistant, who stared at him blankly as if to say 'Are you goddamn kidding me?'

"Yes." She deadpanned. "You hired them to defend your company. While you were fighting with the Yeti for 9 hours… Bidwell even recorded all of that."

"Ahh…" He snapped his fingers. "Yes! I waited 10 blasted months for those hippies to let me see that blasted monkey!" He looked up and down at the nervous Soldier. "Well pal, you look just like Helen described you."

"An honor, sir!" The american gave a nervous salute, clearly thinking that it was a compliment. It actually amused Hale. "Ahahahaha! Clearly a moron as she said." He gave him a heartfelt slap on the shoulder, knocking him off his feet and face-first onto a small rock. "An honor, sir!" The Soldier repeated, breaking his teeth over some common rock.

"Um, Mr. Hale. Ve did manage to stop zhe robots." Medic informed, holding up his index finger for emphasis.

"Good work then, champ!" The australian grinned at him. "Thanks to you morons, my buildings didn't have to take any bullets, because you caught 'em all! Free of charge too! Ahahaha!"

The wind carried Hale's laugh far, but Compa ignored it, preferring to crouch next to the sleeping Blanc. The CPU's burns were so severe that her Quick-Fix had trouble healing them. Apparently all Medi-Guns had trouble healing fire burns. While her mind still had a hard time registering it, the guilt was still there.

She hurt Blanc, she hurt a CPU.

Is she a bad guy now?

But, the mercs hurt a lot of people. But all of them were the ASIC, bad guys who need to be stopped.

And she hurt one of the CPUs, one of her friend's friend… Therefore she's different.

Does she still deserve a spot on the good side?

Her self-pity would continue, had not Hale's voice gotten so loud that she could do nothing but be brought back to reality.

"SPICY GAZELLE RIBS! IS THAT YOU, MUNDY!?"

His excited outburst was enough to get every monster in Virtua Forest to evacuate to nearby dungeons or cities. The CEO crashed through the mercs like a bowling ball through pins, they even fell the same way. All of that to get that one man who distanced himself from the group and lock him into a headlock.

"I haven't seen you in ages, old friend! How are ya? Still havin' that New Zealander blood in ya, aren't cha mate?" Sniper stood no chance, he was trapped by the strongest Australian in both worlds. All he can do is kiss his freedom goodbye.

Also, saying that someone has 'New Zealander blood' is a traditional Australian insult. In laymen's terms it's calling an Australian weak, unmannly, a goddamn pussy.

"Bloody piker! Let me go, Hale!" Sniper grumbled, fighting against the odds to break free, but of course the stronger Australian was well... stronger.

With a wide grin, Saxton Hale rubbed his knuckles roughly against Mundy's hair. "C'mon Mundy! Tell me how yer day went!" Sniper got even more annoyed by Hale forcing himself onto him and blindly reached out for the Bushwacka, trying to stab the fellow Australian.

"Oh, ohoho! T-That tickles! Ahah, s-stop!" Saxton yelped, squirming his abdomen muscles, but Sniper was merciless and kept stabbing angrily.

Histoire and Falcom watched the showcase of 'affection' with a bead of sweat running down their faces. How could one mistake 'stabbing with a good-goddess sized knife' as 'tickling'?

Then her attention shifted towards Miss Pauling who was right in front of IF. The assistant had her head to the left, something must have caught her attention.

Then IF also turned her head and…

Oh goddess…

Wha-wha-WHAT?!

Whatever it was, IF's shriek proved that she wasn't going insane, and that it was really happening.

"GOODNESS! WHAT THE HELL, GEAR!?"

Nepgear couldn't stop staring at the burning body of CFW Judge. His gorgeous, silver armor shone beautifully under the golden flames. How is he burning for so long when even Pyro's flames didn't affect him was beyond her, but its beauty couldn't be explained with words. Maybe she can still salvage at least some of his hardware, a sentient robot capable of mass destruction. Literally a perfect manifestation of dreams, those wet ones. But for now, all she could focus on was that alluring voice of the choir calling out to her, charming her till her brain shutdown.

It's so beautiful. She wants- no, she needs to get closer...

The CPU Candidate took a small step towards it, like a mindless zombie, all her reasoning abandoned. It didn't help that the other girls weren't paying any attention to her, busy either watching Hale's conversation with the mercs or trying to help Blanc.

Another step. The resistance is futile, the urge is just too strong for her. Like a drug addict wanting another shot.

She doesn't even want to resist.

Nothing else mattered, not even the heat of flames drying her skin. She bravely, or perhaps foolishly took another step.

Her fingers were already brushing the hot metal, the dancing flames quickly did their job and ignited her sleeve, but she didn't even notice. Just a little more, just a bit closer. She can enjoy the metal's fiery touch on her entire body…

With the last step, the lilac-haired girl spread out her arms and embraced the robot, welcoming the hellish flames on her entire body as she took a hold of CFW Judge's arm, letting the flames' warm touch engulf her entirely; clothes, skin, hair. All of that easily started to combust, but the lilac-haired girl did not even realize that she's slowly and painfully dying. The CPU Candidate was busy rubbing her cheek against the metal, letting some of the coating even melt into her face.

She felt no pain, her brain stopped registering anything else but the choir. All she can think about is the PRECIOUS.

No one realized that Nepgear was willingly cooking herself, till Miss Pauling smelt the familiar scent of burning flesh and turned to the side, which in turn got IF's attention and not even a second passed before the Guild agent felt her heart stop beating.

"GOODNESS! WHAT THE HELL, GEAR!?"

She can't believe it.

She absolutely can't believe it.

It doesn't matter that there's a burned-and-perhaps-even-dead Nepgear in the Medical Bay. She fundamentally refuses to believe that Nepgear of all people willingly threw herself into a fire!

What was she thinking!? Was she thinking at all?!

And why does she have a such strong urge to turn the air blue!?

"Tonight was such a mess, huh, Histoire?" Falcom sighed, her enthusiasm gone into the fire alongside the CPU Candidate. The adventurer just boredly ate her half-eaten roasted steak while Histoire's head was continuously bombarded with questions.

First was ASIC's sudden challenge. That itself felt like a trap but the mercs went anyway… Then those upgrades on CFW Judge. While it's reasonable for him to get some improvements after that last fight, what was that? Something caused Nepgear to just go berserk. The same kind Nepgear who just can't hurt a fly without feeling guilty. Just what happened?

Then those two strangers who arrived just in time to turn the tides. That woman and the freaking CEO of Mann Co., how they even get in here? The mercs said that they got in here by accident, did their employers manage to reverse engineer the interdimensional teleporter for reliable use?

At least… "Hey, look on the bright side, despite everything we saved Blanc at least." Falcom noted with a smile, which helped the fairy relax a little herself, but that only led to the next question.

Why did ASIC even keep their own word? It would be so easy to just tie up any other hostage, or even leave the cave empty, why did they give up a CPU? Why Blanc?

Nothing makes sense…

"Histoire?" Falcom finally broke the fairy out of her train of thoughts, and her absent-minded floating around the room to boot. Yes, she could think about ASIC later, there's more pressing concerns, like the Candidate. The Candidate…?

"...Please remind me why we didn't just let Nepgear respawn?" The Oracle asked without a second thought, turning towards the adventurer…

…And now that these words were out, Histoire just realized their context. She started to feel sick to her stomach. This was the lowest she could possibly fall, and those words alone meant that she has failed as Planeptune's Oracle.

Damn it! She's supposed to help Nepgear and Neptune, not suggesting to leave them to die! When did she become so reliant on the Re:Spawn system? When did she start thinking it's okay for the Candidate to die? When did she lose her sanity?!

And then the air turned blue with colorful words of frustration.

"Medic wanted to check what was wrong with Nepgear. Apparently chances are we won't learn what happened if we just let her respawn." Falcom calmly answered. Whether the adventurer didn't notice the unforgivable undertones of Histoire's statement or she didn't care, the fairy doesn't know. But what everyone here does know is that something happened to Nepgear, just no one knows what.

An awkward silence fell upon them. Falcom slowly resumed eating her share of steak while Histoire flew around the room, both out of boredom and in agitation. She just couldn't sit still in this kind of situation; it felt like hours have passed before the doors were finally unlocked and a blood-stained Medic walked out.

Histoire was on him faster than Neptune could eat her pudding. "How is she?"

"Vell, zhis is veird, but barring zhe 3rd und 4th degree burns, nothing else is vrong vith her."

That sentence alone was enough to throw Histoire into state of near hysteria. "Nothing!? With all due respect, Medic, but Nepgear just threw herself into a fire! And-" She snapped, but the fairy still had enough control to keep her voice firm but not raised. However that was shattered when Medic interrupted her, pointing at the blonde for emphasis.

"Und, with all due respect as vell, Frau Histoire, I am a doctor, not a psychologist. I can check only zhe physical- und please pardon me for zhe moment." Medic darted back into the room. Curious about what happened, the fairy peeked through the opened doors as well to see him throwing his hands around and hear him shouting. "Nein, not again Archimedes, I said get out of her chest! Nein Christina, zhat isn't zhe place to lay eggs!"

'Despite his antics, he's currently the best doctor in Planeptune. Despite his craziness, he knows what he's doing. Despite the birds. Nepgear is in good hands...' Histoire mentally chanted, holding herself to not lash out and hurt the innocent birds or the Mad Doctor.

She's starting to scare herself. That horrible event 3 years ago when the Goddesses were captured left Histoire pitting and blaming herself ever since. Countless sleepless nights were spent thinking 'What if she hadn't let them go out' and wondering what she could've done, what could've been. If the Goddesses never ventured into the Gamindustri Graveyard. Would Gamindustri still be as beautiful as it were once before?

But at least then she only had herself to blame. Now, she doesn't even know how she should feel, think or act. Should she blame herself for letting the mercs go and spring the trap? But Blanc was saved because she agreed. Angry at the mercs to even consider fighting tooth and nail with Judge, stupidly taking the bait? But they killed a CFW for good, or at least drew Hale's attention so he could do it. Relief that they managed to rescue a CPU from ASIC clutches and set up a foundation for an alliance with Lowee, in addition to finding potentially new allies? But Nepgear and her friends suffered greatly because of tonight...

In short, for the first time in a long while, Histoire was at a complete loss on what to even think. Too much has happened in too short a time, compiling on the long string of craziness that has wrapped around her life ever since the mercenaries arrived. The madness is getting infectious...

"Perhaps you should rest a little." Medic suggested, lightly spooking Histoire as she didn't notice him staring right at her face. "Fräulein Nepgear shouldn't wake up till morning. Zhe medi-guns take ze long time for burns."

Rest. That… that sounds like something she needs right now. The incident with Nepgear is just too much for her to handle. It's a miracle on its own that her processor still functions.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer, but I'll need to check on Blanc right after the break. Where is she? I want to see her with my own two eyes."

"Vell, considering zhat I don't have enough room for two patients here, she's resting in my room." The german pointed at the doors on the opposite side of the hallway. Had this been any other day and person, she would question such an unethical choice. A defenseless girl with a crazy man with the walls soundproofed. A recipe for trouble.

But this is Medic she's dealing with, and she doesn't feel like arguing. Especially not tonight. The Oracle just nodded, said her goodbyes to Falcom, and hovered downstairs.

She passed the lobby, where Hale had moved his 'picnic'. The CEO got the mercs wrapped up in it, and it doesn't seems like they'll be free soon. Then there's the deal with Compa, who said she didn't feel good after the mission so IF offered to walk her to her apartment.

The bubbly, well endowed blonde is another person who worried the Oracle. Whatever happened in that tunnel, it hit the Nurse hard. She'll have to hear it from IF later because the mercs themselves don't know what happened, and then she might have another psychiatric case on her hands. Yep, she definitely needs to rest her processors before getting back to work...

No one seemed to notice the tiny book fairy floating towards the gardens.

Or did they…?

Despite it being still midnight, Planeptune is loud 24/7, so theoretically a small garden outside is the worst place to clear one's head, but Histoire somehow managed to do just that, disregarding everything else as white noise. However, her solitude didn't last long as she was approached by one of the walking enigmas, Miss Pauling, carrying a book and a glass of wine.

"Uhh… you're Histoire, right? Mind if I hide here for a bit?" She asked while looking over her shoulder, as if something was chasing her.

"That's… right? Why do you want to hide here?"

"Ah, nothing big. It's just Scout's trying to hit on me again…" The assistant sat down on the stairs, setting the book next to her.

"I...see? Well, I don't mind your presence, I'm just here to calm down a little myself. Tonight was a mess..." 'It's already too much for me to think. Let's just roll with that excuse.' The Oracle thought, locking her eyes with the assistant's and giving her a smile. "Before I say anything else though, I must thank you for your and Mr. Hale's help, you saved us when we were in a pinch."

"That's just Hale's thing. He just can't turn down a good fight, but it got us where I needed." She dismissed her kindness, dipping a fingertip into the drink and looking at the wet nail. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, but the drink remained otherwise untouched.

The woman's last sentence confused the Oracle though. "Where you needed?" She parroted, causing Miss Pauling to scratch the back of her head.

"Yeah, kinda. At first I just wanted to get the mercs out of here, but now... I think we'll stay to help."

"Really?" Her confused look turned into more hopeful one. This was a bit too convenient, but she won't turn down additional help, especially when she and Mr. Hale seems to know the mercs and the latter is powerful enough to defeat an upgraded CFW nearly effortlessly!

"Well it's not like we have anywhere else to go and- ugh, almost forgot. Want some?" She offered the glass of wine, but Histoire hesitated.

"I don't think I should..."

"Oh it's fine, I only got this because I thought you'd need it. It's been a really rough day for you, right? Trust me, I know how that feels, this will help." Miss Pauling pressed on, obviously set on making Histoire help herself.

"Hmm… If you insist, m-maybe a little bit." Using her two noodle-like arms, Histoire grasped the glass and carefully drank the sweet crimson red wine. To Miss Pauling the scene was rather amusing, since the Oracle was just barely bigger than the glass she's drinking from. In fact Miss Pauling tried to hold the bottom of it while killing the giggle before it peeks out, but a small shake of head from Histoire said that she got this one.

"Ahh…" The fairy separated her lips from the glass and gave back the rest of the drink to Miss Pauling who took it while stifling a smirk. "Only half?" She remarked, setting the glass on the floor next to her.

"This is just a little rest. I don't need a hangover on top of all the problems I already have."

"That's true. While we're here, do you mind if you could explain what's going on here though? I'd ask the mercs but Hale's keeping them busy. He got really ecstatic when he found Sniper, both of them are Australians after all and Sniper is pretty famous in his parts."

"The Mercenaries didn't fill you in?" Histoire questioned. She thought that would be the first thing they would do.

"No chance until Hale's done with them. For some reason he doesn't like when someone interrupts his stories with 'useless things'." With an annoyed expression she made air quotations to emphasize. "That's why I'm asking you."

"O...kay?" Was Histoire's unsure response, then one detail occurred in her mind. "Wait, Sniper is famous? Like a celebrity?" She doesn't know why she actually suggested that... How can a hired killer even expose himself to the public eye? Though an assassin leading a double life isn't unthinkable, the Sniper never looked the social type...

However Miss Pauling just inhaled some air through her teeth while shaking her head. "Not… exactly." In a pretty dramatic way, both girls heard the conveniently sudden commotion happening in the lobby, hearable thanks to the slightly opened doors.

"COME ON! FIGHT ME!"

"Help! I need some help! C'mon mates, help me!"

"Oh, don't be a chicken! C'mon! 1-on-1!"

"Piss off, you bloody gorilla wannabe!"

Hale's roar and Sniper's pleas for help send a bead of sweat rolling down Histoire's face. Should she intervene? Though by the sounds of crashing, shattered glass and other sounds, she was already too late and the lobby is now in total chaos. While Histoire grew concerned, Miss Pauling just released an annoyed groan. "And I just hope that he won't destroy the entire building. Again."

"Should we… interfere?"

"Nah, they're big boys. They can take care of themselves." Miss Pauling waved it off, but her hand weirdly stayed midair for a moment. "But yeah, how about you get me up to speed on what happened since the mercs arrived. It might help you clear your head and I'll know where to assist. Win-win."

Histoire looked at her face for a moment, before giving in with a small sigh. "Where do I even begin…"

"...And then as I was falling towards the earth at terminal speed, I was lucky and spotted an endangered eagle flying nearby. I thought to myself that I could use that noble creature and glide safely to the ground, but that did not turn out to be the case!" Soldier dramatically gasped, fully taken by Saxton Hale's adventurous adventure! (Yes, from now on this is going to be grammatically correct because Hale said so. Don't question it.)

The rest of the mercenaries also listened in, after seeing their teammate being challenged for leaving, no one else wanted to share the same fate. But unlike Soldier, their state of attention varied greatly, with the least caring being Sniper and Spy. The former sat in the corner with the Medi-Gun healing him and used this time to sharpen his kukri, his knuckles providing a fine substitute for the sharpening stone. This knife is the only thing between him and Hale, because there aren't any bushes far away to hide in. He was pissed off that Hale and him are going to have to share buildings from now on… He had enough of him back when he lived with his parents in Australia, it didn't help that the CEO knew his father and would sometimes visit that old bastard.

His lips spent each moment silently mouthing curses, insults and other things that you should never, EVER, say in front of your momma. Screw the party, he and everyone else wants to goddamn sleep. It's 3 in the bloody morning!

"As my body weight was too much for the Eagle, he also plummeted right with me. Through the skylight of my office right at Mann Co. Headquarters!"

It didn't help that his every story turns into a Mann Co. advertisement. Urging and even threatening them to buy more hats from his hat company.

Sniper and Spy shared a look. It was only for less than a second but still enough to carry the whole conversation between them.

Spy: Bushman. You've been sharpening that knife for 4 hours already…

Sniper: That's a 'kukri', not some goddamn 'knife'!

Spy: Same thing. Why don't you catch-up with our former employer and let everyone else get some rest? You were once friends, yes?

Sniper: Piss off, frenchie! I ain't moving from here. Why doncha' just cloak away if ya wanna leave so bad!

Spy: If you forgot, that brute is too stupid to fall for disguises or cloaking. He'll spot me immediately.

Sniper: Tough luck, maybe without your little toys you'll finally grow some guts.

Spy: Autant pour toi. Without any bushes to hide in, you're in the same predicament.

Sniper had no remark to that, so they left each other to their own devices, with Sniper continuing to over-sharpen the blade while the frenchie read one of the older issues of 'Dapper Cadaver' magazine. About the 102nd time.

If he finishes it for the 103rd time he will disconnect himself from Re:Spawn and open that cyanide molar.

However it turns out that he won't have to do that, as his salvation came not in the form of death, but of Falcom with an empty plate and a passive "Can I get seconds?" She pushed the empty plate to the CEO, interrupting his story about something like Mann Co. Customers designing better stuff than Mann Co itself. (See: Bidwell's Big Plan)

"Can you? Of course you can! There's no greater food than freshly roasted steak!" The Australian (and the mercs' torturer) laughed, taking the plate and filling it with tasty things.

"You know, I think the Guild could use a man like you. The monsters are getting stronger but you seem to be able to handle them." Falcom idly commented, the adventurer could already imagine the receptionist's reaction when she sees him. The woman would be either terrified or ecstatic. Maybe both.

"The Guild? What's that? Oh for the love of- please don't tell me it's an another hippie convent!" Saxton Hale cringed, memories of Woodstock plaguing his mind. He was sure that he did the world a favor by firebombing that hippie breeding nest.

"What? Um... No?" 'What even is a hippie?' She mentally questioned, hearing that weird name for the first time. "People can request help at the Guild, with adventurers completing them for rewards like money. You just take and complete the posted jobs and get paid. There are even lots of monster extermination jobs which sound right up your alley-!" Out of a sudden, Hale grabbed her by her shoulders, spooking the adventurer. The Australian stared hard into her confused orange eyes. The room was quiet, no one but the Author could predict the CEO's next move.

Which was breathing hard in anticipation. This could be that one moment for him, the moment he was waiting for his entire life. "Are you telling me what I sincerely pray to god that you're telling me? I can punch animals into extinction, and get paid for that?"

Falcom didn't know how to respond. Is this even normal for someone to feel such glee for killing monsters? Sure she's happy living the life she's living, but in his case… that's more on the unhealthy side.

But she, albeit unsurely, nodded and his eyes widened and the grin on his face grew.

"Okay then. That's me set!" Hale let go of her shoulders and spun around. "Guys, tell Miss Palagi that she's on her own now! Me and- what's your name?" "It's Falcom." "Me and Falcom are going to this Guild place so the party's over." His words were met with a roar of cheer coming from the mercs, glad that their anguish was finally over. All of them stood up and hauled their tired asses upstairs, all of them with an exception of Demoman who drank himself to sleep under the table already. "Finally!" "Oh good, I'm so tired!" "Good night boys!" "Don't forget we're up early, men!" "Wake me up, and I'll stab your throat out."

As for the redhead Adventurer, Hale picked her back up before she could do anything. "Woah! He-hey! I don't have a weapon!" She complained, being carried like a sack of potatoes, to him she was even lighter than that.

"You don't need a weapon, just your bare fists!" The australian kicked the doors open and announced himself to the rest of the Planeptune with a loud "SAXTON HAAAAAAALE!"

...And no one saw Falcom ever again…

…

…

…

…

...Until later...

The doorbell rang, and a moment later a Medic with a sour look opened the doors. "Ja? Oh hello, Frau Histoire. Feeling better now?" He asked, forcing himself to brighten his face up to the point of that business professional smile which reminded Histoire of Kei.

"Yes, I really appreciate the recess, but I won't be able to rest more unless I see Blanc with my own eyes."

He shrugged at her words. "I understand. Here." Today Histoire learned that the rooms in the hotel have locks, because the German just unlocked one to his room, going as far as to hold the doors for her like a proper gentleman.

But if only the room was as good as his manners right now. It was a mess everywhere the eye can see; bird feathers, papers and even glass shards on the floor, with some of the feathers' owners cooing and flying onto a lamp attached to the ceiling, spooked by Histoire's sudden arrival. The fairy could see even some nests in the room, like on the desk for example and... are those broken saw blades she sees embedded into a wall? What happened here!?

But voicing out those questions had to wait, she had to confirm that Blanc is actually here. Fortunately she can see the CPU of Lowee tucked under the covers on the comfy-looking bed. It is clearly the cleanest part of the room, if only because the mercenary swept the feathers… everywhere else in the room. Her dull blue eyes darted to the ceiling, where the device healing the goddess of Lowee was attached. It roughly resembled the medi-gun she saw him carrying, but this one had a beaker with strange, red glowing liquid attached to the lower middle section of the device, among a few other changes. "A new medi-gun? When-?" She posed the question but Medic seems to have already predicted it, cutting her off with answers.

"Zhat is zhe Vaccinator. Ve had it since coming here, but ve just couldn't get zhe opportunity. Zhe other medi-guns just suited better.

"I see… Heh." They still got some surprises. Histoire hovered a bit closer to get a better look on Blanc's face.

She was still asleep, but back in her human form. Her trademarked white hat lay on the small night table next to the bed. Her exposed sandy-brown hair was a mess, seems like no one bothered to comb her hair and fortunately if there were still any wounds remaining, Histoire can't see them.

"She's an interesting case. All burns outside are healed, but vhat interests me is zhat I couldn't check her innards. At all." The german idly commented, looking at the CPU as well.

"Really?" She gave an awkward response. The saw blades and the broken window tells her that she really shouldn't ask how hard he really tried.

...

"Come. On!" The Mad Doctor angrily growled, pressing the circular saw with all his might into Blanc's chest, well "chest" as a wooden board has bigger curves than her, but back to the Medic. No matter how hard he pressed the blade, the bones or muscles won't give in. Surprising for everyone present, that is: Medic, some birds and an unconscious naked woman. It was really fascinating on its own because while the skin and that thin layer of fat gave in effortlessly, he just can't go deeper. His access was denied, like when you use the wrong password. The muscles in fact won and the "durable" blade literally broke in half, with a sound similar to a gunshot both pieces embedded themselves into the wall.

The very suprised doctor slowly looked at Engineer's damaged instrument, then down at the girl, turned his head to look at one of the pieces, and back to the saw.

It took less than a second for him to throw the tool out of the window.

...

"Yes."

"Hmm…" Histoire hummed for a moment, perhaps there is still a chance after all. "Well, as long as they have shares, the CPUs are supposed to be immortal. With enough shares you won't be able to kill or even severely hurt them."

"But Fräulein Nepgear died, and zhe ASIC have most of zhe shares. Zhen how?" Medic argued, but Histoire already had an explanation for that. "Nepgear is a Candidate. Unlike proper CPUs like Neptune or Blanc here-" The fairy motioned towards the sleeping form of the Loweean ruler, "-they can, albeit with difficulty, be killed. As for the shares..."

She stopped for a moment, clarifying the info because even she isn't certain of that. In theory that would be it, but that is just a theory. "I'm not certain about this…" She began, but Medic patiently waited for her to continue. "But it might be possible that her shares reached that very thin line where it's not enough for her to stay conscious, but still enough to maintain the immortality. A very tight range where literally one man could make the difference."

The german stood silent, taking the interesting information. To think that the Goddess' life could literally hinge on the faith of a single man, hah!

'Putting zhe life of individuals in zhe hands of the many. How foolish, and yet… effective.' A city with technology to rival Australia yet lacks the Australium-induced insanity, ruled by two-actually-three people whose lives literally depend on whether the public is happy with their work or not.

None of those lying politicians and presidents on Earth would ever agree to such crazy idea, but somehow this turned out just fine for the rulers of this world. Now more than ever, Medic was interested, even excited. He thought the Candidate's bio-mechanical insides were interesting enough, but an actual immortal being? And all for himself till the morning with no one to interfere. This is very… "Fascinating." He breathed out, stroking Blanc's hair off her face. He must learn their secrets, how they transform, how they stay 'immortal', what makes them immortal. How do they convert their followers' faith into power? What is the extent of their power?

With each goddess he meets, this gets more and more fascinating.

"Ahem." Histy's 'Bad touch! Bad touch!' senses went off the charts and to remind the german that she's still here, the oracle cleared her throat. Only through his self-restraint did he not jump from fright, merely yelping "Ah!" and quickly pulling his fingers away from the CPU's face. No need to worry, he'll have her for the rest of the night. His gaze met hers noticing that she wasn't amused. A protective one she is.

"So if we obtain more shares, Frau Blanc will wake up?" He covered himself with a plan, a simple-yet-effective plan, but those of course were the best ones. Not this time though, as Histoire shaking her head threw that one out of the already broken window. "If we collect shares as we did before, we'll be able to raise only Nepgear and Neptune. I could make Sharicite and transfer our shares directly to Blanc, but I worry that it would weaken Nepgear in exchange. We don't have much shares ourselves…" The blonde Oracle rubbed her cheek for a moment, like just 3 seconds before her fingers snapped. "Ah!"

"You thought of something?" The German asked, sitting down on the chair with a raised eyebrow and a small grin.

"Yes, I do have a plan, but this will have to wait till morning. It's still night and fatigue is starting to overtake me. In the meantime, I trust that you'll take care of her. " She gave him a respectful nod and was about to leave, but Medic had one more topic to discuss.

"Before you leave, Frau Histoire. Do you mind if ve talk about a certain someone?"

'Oh my gosh, is this for real? This is a goldmine!' Those were Miss Pauling's thoughts. One could imagine her eyes sparkling from delight as the assistant enthusiastically reeled the magnetic tape from her tape recorder. 'The administrator must hear about this ASAP, it's just too important to pass on.'

She was feeling giddy, and for good reason, interrogating Histoire gave her the best leads so far with enough info to put in her first report. It's hard to believe that those mercs of all people were the first to find this place with such potential.

'A whole southern city state in shambles, controlled by a corrupt government. A perfect place for the Administrator to start spreading her influence. That world-wide criminal organization should have more information on Neptulium, that might be worth checking out too.' The carefully extracted tape was put inside a briefcase with utmost caution, she can't afford to damage it, she doesn't have any copies. With the main dish came the appetizer, some sheets of paper she tucked in too, filled with words copied from her notebook-turned-journal. One of them read:

'Day 2: We finally reached a new "nation" after my partner got in trouble with the authorities. We traveled long through some weird, purple wastelands in the center of the "Continent Beta" but the police gave up long before we even entered them. The road was long but it was worth it, I was reunited with my old red-loving "acquaintances" deep in the forest near the city. My partner and I gave them a hand and offered them to rejoin us, but we unfortunately came to disagreement and they refused, even saying they don't want to be my "friends" anymore. But one of their friends I never met still offered me a room.

I just don't know how long their hospitality will last. But that's fine, I already found some potential "jobs" that I could look into after they throw me out. I hope they "pay" well.

Covering the top of with some random travel booklets, the briefcase was closed shut and secured by handcuffing it to her hand. Her first report, she already found promising info to give Helen… She can't even believe it.

With a quick sigh, Miss Pauling grabbed her phone, an oversized brick that Histoire barely even recognized as a communication device. Apparently they have all those miniature things that are supposed to be better. How are they even better? All she needs is just something that can make a call, why throw in some other junk into that.

2 rings passed by before someone picked up. That someone recognizable as a male by his voice immediately stated.

"Hello this is Crummy's Burgers, how can I help you?"

"Good evening, I would like to order a Smoking Special with an extra tasty meat. I'll be there to pick up in 20-oh-30 minutes."

"Smoking...Special… collected personally. Anything else?

"Yes. Do you still order the Number Nine?"

"...Yes. We still order the number nine. Should I add that to the list?"

"Yes. Add to that the number seven. I'll pay when I get there."

"I...see. Have a good night-uh-morning-uh-day-uh… whatever!"

The panicked person quickly hung up, leaving the dumbfounded Miss Pauling with silence. This moment could be compared to when a child told their parents that they're homosexual or for the first time you see someone killed right in front of you. You brain just doesn't know what to do or what just happened.

After a long moment, the assistant let her hand drop down with a heavy sigh. She wasn't used to cooperating with so many different people, especially on high priority jobs like this one. It didn't help that Helen didn't call for an operation of this scale ever since the 2nd generation of mercs grew too old to fight.

The ravenette turned her head towards the window. Despite the late hour there were still big crowds outside, this could play to her advantage as with her purple clothes she could blend in rather easily.

The mercs will probably follow her, no scratch that, Spy will surely be on her tail. That sneaky french won't let such an opportunity pass.

Although she does have the spellbook, and there's an invisibility spell.

With her plan ready, she grasped the doorknob and uttered a quiet chant. "Barpo Invisium."

The effects were immediate as her entire body went transparent, all she could see of her body is her outline, but to anyone else she's completely invisible. Upon entering the hallway she was met with weird silence, broken only by the occasional beeping of a Sentry Gun. Strange, wasn't Hale with the Mercs just a moment ago?

Silently going down the stairs, her eyes saw that the lobby was empty. Only a mess after the 'party' remained; empty bottles, plates, leftovers, seems like the mercs already have breakfast prepared. Oh and obviously a snoring Demoman under the table, of course.

'Where the heck is that buffoon, Hale?' Miss Pauling though, turning her head left and right in hopes of seeing the muscle-headed Australian. But only halls devoid of life were there. It was kinda creepy in its own way, 10, perhaps, 15 minutes ago there was a whole party but now it's all just eerie empty space, with the doors kicked open.

But that made things easier.

"Who… do you have in mind?" She didn't like the tone of his voice, it had a dangerous edge to it.

"I don't think ve, especially you Frau Histoire, should trust Miss Pauling." Warned the merc, not bothering to beat around the bush or sugarcoat his words.

"Hm?" Medic's weird statement caused a brow to raise on Histoire's head. One could almost see question marks floating around her head from the confusion.

It took a moment for her to realize the context of that sentence, but that didn't make it any less confusing. "But... why? Didn't you all work with each other? By my knowledge, Mr. Hale was even your boss before I hired you." When she talked to Miss Pauling, the assistant seemed like a nice person, helpful and understanding.

"Exactly, because ve know her, ve know she can't be trusted. Her boss is planning on using you, Frau Histoire, to achieve her goals like she did vith us. Sooner or latter ve vill be in trouble."

His words were like a cold bucket of water to her. The Oracle wondered just what in the heck caused such distrust to spark between them. True, she can agree that her eagerness could be a bit suspicious, but she doesn't put a bad vibe to her.

"Well… when I talked to her she didn't seem that bad."

"You already talked vith each other?" Medic raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were narrowed. The merc leaned forward and rested his head on his arms, giving her his full attention.

Histoire closed her eyes in deep thought. It took her a moment or three to actually answer the doctor's question. "Yes." She began uncertainly, but it made Medic fear the worst. "We did talk, my emotions and thoughts were in shambles and she offered me her shoulder to cool off and also vent off a little. Also according to her, all of you failed to explain the situation to her."

It was the german's turn to close his eyes, he leaned back to process all this information. When he opened his eyes all he said was, "But ve did."

"Pardon?"

"Ve gave her a brief rundown on vat ve vere doing here, but it seems zhat didn't satisfy her so she vent to you... Vat vere you talking about?"

Another pause, yet again the Oracle searched through her memory drives for needed information. Said thing took only 3 seconds though. "Let's see… I answered her questions about this world, like the CPUs, the ASIC, the Share System and vague state of the nations. Then we moved onto a bit of what we did ever since I hired you so she can figure out where she can help. She was very eager to hear about our findings-Oh."

-Oh.

...Oh.

Oh.

OooooooOOOHHHH!

The blonde fairy suddenly froze, confirming Medic's prediction. The Oracle of Planeptune realized just what kind of mistake she made and just how much she messed up. Her hands slowly rose by themselves to grasp her hair while her dull blue eyes widened as slowly as she could.

Okay, she definitely failed big time.

Medic noticed her expression, fearing the worst the german narrowed his eyes.

Unfortunately her words confirmed them. "I think I just made a big mistake."

To say that he expected it would be an understatement. After seeing his former supervisor for the first time since coming in here, he immediately knew that they're in for a very tough time. There was just no other alternative.

That doesn't mean he isn't going to release THE Legendary "Dummkopf™" sigh and ask himself where the hell he went so wrong.

This is going to be a pain in the ass...

'Are all cities that loud at this time…?'

Miss Pauling idly thought to herself, going to her destination with the flow of the crowd. It is an interesting city… so many alien things to her and yet familiar things still find their place here.

It's not too far away. Couple of right turns, then left, and go into the back alley. Easy.

At first glance, you see a typical busy city. Cars hovering above the asphalt, hologram barrier-things keeping pedestrians out of the road. Endless hordes of people trying to reach their destination, creating a river-like flow which Miss Pauling imagines as incredibly hard to break, and absolutely impossible to fight against. The assistant once took a wrong turn and tried to go back, the result was her being pushed onto the floor and trampled till a 'Guild' member got her out.

People suddenly stopped, cars were passing through the intersection and very conveniently she needs to cross the street.

People here are kind, but wary. They'll happily give directions or give advice, but move too close or make them go somewhere and they'll either fight or call a patrolling Guild member, easily recognizable by the abundance and/or quality of weapons they're carrying. All of the kinds too, from melee weapons to magic and guns. She needs to remember that.

The closer to the heart of the city, the louder and brighter it gets. Hence all buildings are soundproof and patrols are wearing ear protectors, relying on their sight. Yet another useful thing to remember, that's how the mercs managed to wipe out all those facilities without anyone catching on. Whenever someone realized what happened, it was too late.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She recognized her, the gray clothing, the heart emblem, it is the ASIC. Without any hesitation or waiting she opened a bag of "Arfoire Chips" as she heard they're called. "Would you like some?" she offered.

But if you took your eyes off the main streets and onto back alleys, you'll find something which The Administrator is most familiar and comfortable with. The Underground, where shady deals and rule breaking are the norm, thieves, criminals, the impoverished are everywhere they can physically be. Places where fake lights of justice just don't reach.

Miss Pauling narrowed her eyes at the woman, analyzing her. Good thing she handcuffed her hand to her briefcase. "Don't glare at me like that, I'm just distributing chips. Here, they're free." She lightly shook her bag, showing that she is no threat.

Ask anyone and they'll say that is the place where the ASIC thugs thrive, but so far all she sees in that "Arfoire Syndicate of International Crime" are just a bunch of teenage delinquents trying to cause trouble. But of course she know there's more than meets the eye. After all, the government wouldn't resort to hiring her mercs to fight them if the ASIC were little more than edgy teenagers.

Reluctantly the assistant reached into the bag and took two chips. This was her 3rd encounter with those 'distributors' so far and she's starting to get annoyed by them… Thankfully they were quick to disappear upon completing the transaction. Like this gal who swiftly closed the bag, said "Enjoy your gaming." and disappeared into the still crowd like a ghost.

She wonders how deep that ASIC is going, how tightly they put their clutches around the world. What Miss Pauling is about to do could qualify as declaring war against them, perhaps leaving the mercs won't be such a great idea. They still hold some value but they won't talk to her without a good reason. Perhaps she can get close to their more trusting allies by calling an alliance.

The green light turned into red, and the current resumed along with Miss Pauling, coming closer to her destination with each step.

If the ASIC have more robots like that one in the forest, it doesn't look like the mercs will be able to handle them. 12 of them nearly lost to 1 of these things, and yet Saxton Hale can take it out on his own and still have time to make a picnic. This could be her opening, but of course the mercs will sense that she's planning something, Spy will at least, and that's all it takes. She needs to prepare for that.

It's just around the corner. Should she take a risk and cast the teleport spell? People are openly carrying weapons and no one bats an eye, but a spell is different compared to a sword or a gun.

All she can think of is to not take any suspicious actions until future notice. A risky operation if the Administrator will grow impatient, but there's no other choice. Other people will have to make reports on their own.

Miss Pauling cursed to herself, she won't make it to the alley. If she tried to push her way through all that it would just get herself trampled again.

Having no other options, the Assistant reached out and quietly chanted: "Ipsum Instantarium."

The spell fired a dark smoky orb out of her hand, her lips broke into a small smile when it landed perfectly where she wanted. Not even a second passed before she was staring at the purplish wall of the building. It didn't seem like anyone cared about her.

Yet another thing Miss Pauling noticed during her short stay was that everyone here are dependent on video games. You can buy consoles and games in every store, with hacks and illegal mods just a few words away. Yes, words. All you need to say is "I want an Arfoire Chip." and every person in a 2 mile radius will gladly give some to you.

Walking deeper and deeper into the back alley she was met with the familiar dread on her back. A place where fake lights of justice aren't able to reach. Out of nowhere she was surrounded by 4 similarly clothed men, trench coats and fedoras, with Tommy Guns in their hands and their barrels pointed at her.

But despite her being at a grave disadvantage, Miss Pauling felt no speck of fear inside her body. In fact, she felt comfortable. "Where's Bidwell? I have a report to the Administrator and I need the refill." She kept her voice firm, daring them to try anything funny. All they need to do is pull the trigger and Helen will make hell out of their lives.

Not a moment later, another figure approached from the darkness. Him. A young man with short, raven black hair and matching eyes, wearing a chef's apron with Crummy's Burgers logo and a hat. "So you really are a fast food chef!" Miss Pauling remarked, noticing that those 4 guys disappeared somewhere.

Bidwell meanwhile wasn't so happy about his predicament. "From right hand of a multi-billionaire to making burgers in a fast food joint. I hate my life…" He released a sigh, pretty exhausted one at that. He gave his spatula a whirl, letting Pauling know that he in fact has one. "Please, at least tell me that Hale's okay."

"You're talking about Saxton Hale, you know." She deadpanned, before looking down at the handcuffs securing the briefcase to her hand. She easily opened them with the key hidden in her hair and gave the chef the reports. "Here, send those to the Administrator pronto."

"Can't you do it?" Despite the question, he still accepted the briefcase. "You're her right hand after all."

"I'm already under suspicion, I can't risk compromising the operation, I'll need to fall off the radar for a few days." Bidwell's eyes widened from shock, forcing Miss Pauling to explain things quickly. "In short: Hale screwed up and we were chased by cops, but we found the RED team, who now suspect me because I screwed up, but I managed to get very juicy intel from their new employer and with some luck and persuasion I'll be able to stay for a moment and milk as much as possible before getting out. Also, I used the syrup and I need a refill." She took out her book, which was actually an assassin cabinet to store poisons, or in Miss Pauling's case, materials helpful for interrogation, cleaning crime scenes and disposing bodies. The assistant took out a small, empty bottle and also gave it to Bidwell.

"Not only I got the short end of the stick then. " The former Hale's right hand noted, reaching out to one of his pockets and giving Miss Pauling a completely identical bottle, but this one was filled with colorless liquid. Plus something else…

"A Dead Ringer?" The ravenette spoke, examining the gold pocket watch with curious eyes. She pressed the hidden button and yes, this is the cloak watch alright.

"Well, it seems like you'll need it. Don't screw up." He gave her a glare, and she matched it with equal power, gripping the watch tightly. Those two equals knew how dangerous the game they're playing is, they know the risks not only for themselves but for everyone here, yet they still march on with raised heads.

A small nod out of respect, and the meeting was adjourned. With the date unknown, but both of them know they'll meet again.

Fortune smiled upon him. The receptionist didn't lie, his answers lay within his grasp. At the other side of the teleporter was an empty room, white walls with very expensive paintings decorating them, marble floor with a very expensive bench made out of gold and bright red pillows for comfort.

It was the lobby to Hale's office, with the doors right in front of him, a mere few meters away.

It was devoid of people, only his Engineers were present and had already secured the doors with two level 3 Sentry Guns.

Gray Mann stepped off the teleporter, then Olivia appeared next and then his army of robots right after. He had to wait for them to gain the strength of numbers, he doesn't know what really lies right behind those doors. It could be anything, even those 9 brutes.

After a satisfactory number of robots were at his side, he gave the order to breach.

As expected, the doors were locked, but that posed no trouble to Robo-Heavy. A wave-worth of robots flooded the office with Gray Mann calmly following them.

Fortune really smiled upon him, his target was there. The light tan and salt-and-pepper hair were unmistakeable. He had the Ambassador in hand and was pointing it at the old man. "Mr. Reddy." He greeted, indifferent to being at gunpoint. After all, he's smarter than this.

"Mr. Mann." He greeted back with cold voice, swallowing hard. "I'm afraid that Mr. Hale is on a business trip and won't be available, can you please come back at a different date?" He spoke with fake politeness, trying to appear confident. Unfortunately Gray Mann sees right through him.

"Such a shame."

The CEO of Gray Gravels took a step forward, causing Reddy to tense. However before he could do anything he heard someone uncloak behind him. The accountant turned around just in time for Robo-Spy to tackle him onto the table. "I'm afraid not!" The machine wrestled the gun from the struggling man's grasp.

"Because me and my colleagues can't afford to wait, Mr. Reddy."

With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Reddy tried to kick the bot away with all his might. However even with the wonders of adrenaline, the machine proved itself to be physically superior. The struggle went on with the human clearly losing but suddenly the machine stopped and released the human, cloaking out of sight with the Ambassador. With the immediate threat gone, Reddy panted in exhaustion. But he wasn't out of the woods yet, right in front of him, with only the desk separating them was Gray Mann, with his army of robots waiting in the back, too many for him to handle even with the Ambassador…

"I know you're a smart man, Mr. Reddy, so I have come with a proposition. For you only." Gray Mann gave him a moment to consider and calm down, of course even if he declines he'll get answers out of him one way or another. Reddy can either pick whether he wants the carrot or the stick.

"What do you want?" The accountant shoulder's tensed. But he allowed himself to unwrinkle his suit and fix his tie. He didn't like it, whatever that old man wants it'll surely bite him back.

Instead of replying immediately, Gray Mann reached into his suit and pulled out a fat stack of cash. He sets it on the desk and pulls out another, and another, and another. Like a magician pulling an endlessly long handkerchief. Reddy watched the rising stack of green paper with a perplexed expression.

"2 and a half million dollars, right here for you to take it, and all you have to do is answer a few questions."

He swallowed yet another hard lump. A deal with the devil, some cash for betrayal, hell no. But something tells him that he doesn't have a choice… Gray Mann read the rising hesitation on his face, and decided to wash away said uncertainty. He's here for answers, and he won't be denied. "You have a family, right? A wife, son and a daughter. With a nice house on Ashley Hill in Wexford, am I right?" That question, that one goddamn question made Reddy grit his teeth, this scoundrel played that card on him.

"You…" He made a low growl, earning a small, annoyingly smug smile on Gray Mann's face.

"Would it be a shame if-"

"You're bluffing!" He shouted accusingly, although to the old man it sounded more like an act of desperation than a rebuttal. Score to him. "Y-You're bluffing. You must be…" The accountant repeated, this time his voice being no more than a defeated whisper from the broken man. Trying to appease himself with lies. Like a coward not wanting to see the truth.

"Unfortunately I am not, Mr. Reddy." But Gray Mann will force him to face the truth. No other choice. "Your family's safety is in jeopardy. Take the money, answer my questions, and your family will be safe. With both of us forgetting that this conversation ever happened."

Reddy genuinely considered this. He can either betray everyone and help the man in front of him, or keep the secrets safe and sacrifice his family, a tough choice, especially to a father of 2 children... But if he picked option 1 then… "T-The Administrator… she'll know. A-A-And-" He started to break down, but his words gave the old man another idea on how to get under that woman's skin.

Taking a bill from the pile and a pen, he wrote something and showed it to the accountant. "I may have a solution for this. If you help me, I'll provide you with my summer house for you and your family to hide. The Administrator don't know about it and even if she did, it's secure enough to keep you safe."

A ray of hope, his salvation, a way out. That single banknote had the escape route he needed, he reached out to grab it but the note was jerked away from him. "Your decision, Mr Reddy." He narrowed his eyes, watching Reddy's darting to various places, the brain cogs nearly audible. A pregnant silence fell upon them before his lightly tanned lips parted and…

"I-Alright… J-Just close the doors."

That was like a victory fanfare for the last standing Mann. He shut his mouth, reached out and gave Mr. Reddy a firm handshake. Today he delivered a severe blow to the mighty Saxton Hale. This single moment mattered more than any destroyed facility. He got one of his most trusted men on his side and out of the picture.

Both gentlemen sat comfortably in their chairs. But the atmosphere was by no chance causal, but rather ominous, dangerous. Reddy knew that he's already a dead man, he might as well secure a future for his family.

"...I don't know much of the details, but I overheard Hale talking with Miss Pauling, something about the Administrator wanting to send them both through that teleporter they recovered in the Decoy base. You should know which one, you had it for some time."

"Yes, I know what you're talking about. What of it?" He remembers that thing, but never gave it any major thought. He reverse-engineered it but every robot he sent through simply disappeared, so he disregarded it as not functional.

"So, apparently one of Administrator's Engineers got it working properly, not sure who or how they did it but after they came back she started sending lots of her personnel onto the other side. Saxton Hale, Miss Pauling and even Bidwell were called. I would be forced to if I were of any use, all I can do is count money, and Bidwell was more liked by Mr. Hale and he is also a former heister."

"Mhm..." Gray Mann hummed, soaking in every word of information. He had no idea that this weird thing was working all along. Maybe he'll be able to contact those bots he sent in. "So what are they doing there?" He questioned, whatever the admin wants from that place, he'll need to hurry to get it first.

"I dunno, I don't even know how long this entire thing has been going on. I just learned about this after Miss Pauling informed us."

'And I don't even know how big of a head start she has. It could be small, since Miss Pauling disappeared just recently, but at the same time she could be close to getting whatever she wanted from there...' He thought, all this information was much more than he expected. It still didn't even scratch the surface of what he hoped for, but it gave him new leads, and uncovered new possible angles of attack. This was a good day for him, especially because he got Mr. Reddy out of the picture.

The sole-surviving Mann stood up, he had all he could get from this man. It was time for him to go. "I think that's all I need. Thank you for your cooperation." Despite that, Reddy didn't feel too good. He made a pact with the devil, and the price will come for him sooner or later.

"I'm going to hell for this..." He rubbed his face, his eyes noticing the banknote with the written address and picked it up. He... his entire family will need to hide because of his mistake. His wife, his kids, they'll have to leave their whole lives behind because of him. He's a horrible father…

"Then send my regards to Mr. Hale when he arrives." The old man walked out and headed towards the doors, whatever happens to that accountant is now none of Gray Mann's concerns. He gave him money and a hideout, whatever's next isn't his responsibility. The Administrator will find out about this one way or another and when that happens the accountant will find himself chased to the ends of the earth until she gets him buried in a shallow grave.

What both of them didn't know was that said woman already knows about that exchange.

The Administrator switched the view of one of her monitors and watched Gray Mann trying to calm down Olivia as she throws a childish fit. Mad about having to wait even more. "That's what happens when you don't raise your child properly." She commented with hit of an annoyance, watching her rival trying to calm his child as she throws a tantrum, but the 10 year old huffs and rejects all the sweets given to her.

This is why she hates children. Especially those younger ones...

"You're falling for an obvious trap and you can't control your child, your 'great intelligence' is as poor as your fatherly skills. Let's see how you'll fare on a new playing field, without your company's might or money."

She took a big breath of her death stick, letting it slowly exhale. "I also wonder how you can fare on your own this time, Miss Pauling. Without me ordering you."

On a different screen was the Spectator Software turned on. It showed 12 people, 9 of whom were the AWOL Team Fortress, she already browsed through their files but there was something else. Next to them, under category "Not Assigned" were 3 additional people. Their data packages aren't fully downloaded yet but she can already guess that they're also busy with their own things...

"And what are these morons doing there, hm?"

Interdimensional RED-Coded Contract

Suspicions

Bloody hell I finally did it. The episode 1 of Act II is here! Lots happened behind the scenes, with even more of that coming. Sorry for the long delay, I was briefly on break and then I couldn't get myself to write… At least you get a whooping 12079 words of the pure, suspenseful fan fiction.

One thing though, how should I tag this goddamn fic? Only 2 tags are not enough since this is adventure/dark/humor/drama/tragedy thrown in together… Especially the dark part because chances are this is going to be the arc where things gets a bit darker.

And some time ago someone asked me how long this fic is going to be. And now I can finally get you some better answers than 'I don't know'. So while the precise chapter count won't be ever known because I always wind up writing more than I wanted but there are going to be 5-6 Arcs. 1 for each nation and 1 for Badlands with chances of the 6th one being the Graveyard if I really want to turn the epilogue into an entire arc. This entire thing should be between 550'000 to 700'000 words if I'm going to keep the usual word counts.

Reviews:

jiffcef - Yes, I am replacing the storyline with my own one. You won't know what'll happen until it happens.

Samdaman95 - Maybe, maybe not. Wait and see.

Piggyslayer1235 - The moment you steal Mann Co. Tech is the moment you DIE! Don't do that, unless you want to share CFW Judge's fate.

Also how's that neurotoxin air freshener working out for ya?

Gamephreak - You traded sleep for wasting time on my fic? You okay there pal? Sleep is nice. You should try some.

Admiral Crow - A lot of comedy ensues, but only after patching up the mental traumas. And I think Uni would rather crush one's nuts than Ram, that brat would prefer freezing you with the Ice Coffin.

I know STblackST but I never heard of Infurno… is he hot? Like… burning hot? A Pyro main?

Super heavy weapons guy - Not bad at all

BreadNotDead - And now Histoire with Gear gets aboard the pain train! With Gear being a returning customer. Poor thing, she didn't even realize what was going on before it was too late.

Yes, traumas for everyone. Let's go copy the Berserk! And if you think that it's going to get easier then oh oh hoho, I don't think we're reading the same thing. Trust me.

It'll only get harder.

And no Neps 4 Mercs. Too bad, so sad.

~ Harmless Orange