As Zelen delved deeper into the darkness, he learned how much of it had been kept at bay by the presence of his fellow Reiters.

“Bravo Team, tactical update. Pushing through on starboardside now, encountering minimal resistance.”

“Acknowledged. They’re still streaming out over here, but seems all their big guns are down. Nothing we can’t handle. Give ’em hell, boys.”

Words continued to filter through the radio, but if anything, they only highlighted Zelen’s solitude. Here within the claustrophobic innards of the Leviathan, the only thing that kept him company was his growing unease… and the imagined death that lurked behind every corner.

Except that wasn’t completely true, was it?

Right this time, Zelen. Now take a left. Left again. Now, I believe… yes, follow this long corridor to the end.

Much like what Bravo Team had reported, Zelen encountered almost no enemies through the portside interiors of the Mothership.

There’d been one—just one—Hornet that he’d dispatched easily with a short burst from LA [GATLING]. It had first shown up as a red dot on the radar, but due to Zelen’s unfamiliarity with his visibility options, he’d only spotted it when it was already within melee range—and with Silon’s repeated prompting at that.

Afterwards, it occurred to him that the Hornet had made no attempt to fight back, despite surely having ‘seen’ him first. This realization, instead of comforting him, only added to his perception of the Mothership as something immense and incomprehensible—and therefore compounded his unease.

It was a good thing, then, that Silon found frequent reasons to talk to him. The starboardside seemed to be smooth sailing for Bravo Team, but the portside featured a twisting, overlapping, and recursive construction that struck Zelen as strangely maze-like. He’d surely have gotten turned around if it weren’t for Silon helping him to interpret the radar data.

The whole thing struck him as odd. Assuming these inner pathways were used only for the transport and deployment of Syntropy units, why did their arrangements need to be so labyrinthine? And did it ‘make sense’ for the interiors of the ship to be this empty? Sure, Charlie Team was laying siege from the outside, with the express purpose of drawing enemy fire, but could something this immense and this incomprehensible be so easily tricked?

“Silon, do you have much knowledge or experience of the war… from before we were Tethered?”

You should know, Zelen, that the Tethering between a Reiter and a Spiegel is a one-time event for both parties. As such, I have no first-hand experience of the war before our Tethering. I do, however, retain some knowledge of the Syntropy War in its entirety, as part of my training data.

“I guess that makes sense. I only bring it up because some of the ways Syntropy behave don’t make a whole lot of sense to me, and I wondered if you might have something in your knowledge bank that might provide an explanation.”

Do you refer to the maze-like nature of these corridors? And how devoid of defensive mechanisms they are?

“… Now I know that’s too specific to have been interpretations of my ‘Nexus-bound signals’ or whatever you called them.”

You’re correct, Zelen. They’re questions I myself had upon reviewing historical mission reports. And they seemed to match the sense I got from your ‘Nexus-bound signals’, which is indeed what I called them.

“You’re telling me you had the exact same questions as me? Well… do you have answers? Theories?”

No answers. And it’s not my place to speculate on tactically sensitive material.

“I won’t speculate and tell, Silon. It’s just me here. No one else.”

A pause, perhaps a mite longer than what might’ve been usual for the Spiegel.

The only comment I’ll make is that I’ve noted a distinctly cyclical nature to the way the Syntropy rebuild assets and reconsolidate forces. The previous iteration of the Mothership also had something analogous to these empty maze-like corridors. The same can be said for the one previous to that, and so on. It seems, whatever imperfections or eccentricities were present in the Mothership’s prototype have persisted through each subsequent ‘generation’. Now, as to why those features were there in the first place, I really can’t—

“You arrived at that on your own, Silon? It's not… something fed to you through training?”

Yes, and I apologize, Zelen. I know I shouldn’t—

“No, don’t apologize. I think it’s fascinating. It’s something… I never really thought about myself. But maybe I should’ve.”

It was Zelen’s turn to pause for a moment, to wrestle with the new, bizarre thought that just occurred to him.

“What happens to Spiegels when we die?”

Pardon me?

“You said yourself the Tethering is a one-time event for both Reiter and Spiegel. Well, Reiters die. As if this mission wasn’t reminder enough… Or even if… even if we’re lucky enough to survive combat duty, we retire, and never touch Eidolons again. What happens to you, when we’re… Untethered?”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Having gotten to know Silon over the years, Zelen half-expected there to be another short break in the dialogue. Knowing what he thought knew about his Spiegel, this seemed like the kind of question that would give her pause, in a manner of speaking. Despite that, the response was instant and unexpectedly terse.

We return to the Nexus.

Zelen chewed on that for a moment, then realized there wasn’t nearly enough meat.

“Wait, that’s it? What does that—I thought you’d have a more—”

We return to the Nexus.

If he hadn’t imagined it, the repetition had taken on an almost peremptory quality, as though the Spiegel wished to leave no doubt as to the finality of her answer.

Zelen respected her wishes.

“Bravo Team, tactical update. Saw increased enemy numbers in the end, but we’ve destroyed the Synthesis Hub. Objective Bravo is complete. Doubling back now.”

“Acknowledged. Nice and smooth, I like it. Safe trip, boys, and rest easy. Enemies on the outside are dwindling as well, and we don’t expect to need any backup. Kingfisher, you still with us?”

“This is Kingfisher. Go ahead, over.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Zelen thought he should’ve been heartened by the concern. Which made it doubly strange that he had to hide the thorns in his voice as he answered, “Making steady progress through the portside. Not much enemy presence, but the paths are dense and not the easiest to navigate.”

“Acknowledged. Keep us posted, and good luck. It’s all down to you now.”

Zelen didn’t even bother to reply, which was bad radio etiquette, not to mention plain rude. He couldn’t quite explain why he suddenly wanted to be left alone, after just earlier lamenting his solitude. And yet—

“This is Glasswing, query for the IC, over?”

“Go ahead, over.”

“Um, shouldn’t I—shouldn’t someone head over portside and assist Kingfisher? We’re all pretty much freed up now. I feel like Kingfisher could use some company, just in case there’s—”

“Negative. Kingfisher is to proceed on his own for this portion of the mission. That’s a direct order from the General.”

“But—”

“Negative. You just—alright, hold on one sec.”

The radio cut out then, and Zelen could easily surmise that Tripod had moved the conversation onto a private channel. And just like that, he felt somewhat justified in his sourceless petulance.

His Reiter mates didn’t come back on the radio after that, open or otherwise. And even Silon seemed reluctant to pick up where they’d left off. As if to accommodate the desires for silence all around, the rest of the route remained relatively straightforward, allowing Zelen to forgo the need to ask his Spiegel for directions.

Eventually, the corridors opened onto a space that Zelen with his human sensibilities might dub a ‘room’. He was able to see and think this almost immediately, because the room was dimly lit by a central structure that glowed lurid red.

Here the ‘four’ walls were multifaceted and inconsistently angular: not quite rectangular and not quite cuboid. Numerous cables hung from the walls and ceiling in loose strands that called to mind old drooping bandages. These appeared to be attached—with no visible points of contact—to what looked to be a large circular container that took up much of the centre of the room. This was the aforementioned light source, with its central core fluxing and overspilling with red Syntropic energy.

Zelen floated into the room slowly, turning his SPU this way and that to get visuals on all corners of the room. Once again, no enemies. He then leaned over the rim of the central container to get a better look at its core.

Myriad streams of crimson energy flew over, crossed, bounced against, joined, and split apart from each other, seemingly at random. Each collision gave off white-red sparks that were all but blinding, especially given how much time Zelen had spent in complete darkness. Even so, he thought he could see through the flux and into the bottom of the pit. Only… there was no bottom.

Zelen involuntarily shook his head and backed away. He’d stared at bright red light for far too long. He didn’t need a Gaertner to tell him that couldn’t be good for his eyesight.

Having arrived at the final objective, he felt the occasion called for some recognition, so he broke radio silence.

“So… I’m assuming this is the Engine Core.”

That appears to be the case, Zelen.

“Do I just… destroy it? Just like that? I would’ve thought… I would’ve thought for sure there’d be something here waiting for me. Another Kentavros? An unidentified unit? I don’t know what, but something.”

Did you want there to be enemy presence?

“No! But it just feels”—anticlimactic—“I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel quite right. If I were”—designing—“in charge of Syntropy operations, I’d have upped the defenses all through the interiors of the ship. And in this room, with such an important component, I would’ve placed some kind of”—challenge—“advanced defensive units… at least make an effort at protecting this thing.”

We should count ourselves lucky then, Silon said in her usual monotone, that you weren’t in charge of Syntropy operations.

Zelen drew in a sharp breath.

“Silon! Did you… did you just make a joke?”

I think it’s possible that something of your speech mannerisms and thought patterns might have influenced my own functions.

“Wow… I know missions like these can make anyone loopy, but it must be really bad if it’s affecting you too, Silon. Guess we better get out of here as soon as we can.”

Having satisfied himself that the Mothership’s Engine Core would well and truly remain defenseless, Zelen set about finishing his job.

He walked around the core in a circle, hitting it with indiscriminate barrages of [GATLING], [BLUNDERBUSS], and [HARPOON] for good measure. The container proved to be tougher than it looked, but he still had plenty of ER to spare, and this was literally the last thing he needed to ‘fight’ this mission.

Eventually, after the sparks and smokes cleared, Zelen saw that the core had extinguished itself, and he—along with the room—was thrown back into pitch blackness. This was the time to radio the rest of the team, yet something still held him back.

Instead, he stepped closer to the wreckage, and now with the aid of a Nexa-Lamp, peered into the pit again. The bottom was there: a sheet of solid smooth obsidian that lay underneath mangled metal. Somehow, this confirmation didn’t bring with it the relief he’d expected.

“This is Kingfisher, tactical update. The Engine Core is destroyed. I repeat, the Engine Core is destroyed. Main objective complete. I will now—”

A resounding boom. A bright flash of flame and smoke.

One of the angulated walls—bent completely out of shape from the explosion—flew off its fixtures and shot toward Zelen. He ducked, and felt the debris graze against the tip of his SPU.

Another explosion, but he couldn’t tell where this one had come from. More flying debris. And then a new sound. One that felt at once familiar and impossibly amplified.

Rushing water.

In the darkness and confusion, Zelen couldn’t see the threat that had befallen him, but some primal instinct within him screamed its warning all the same.

“Silon? What—”

Multiple hull breaches detected. This room—and the ship as a whole—is about to flood. Get away, Zelen! Quickly!