Isla Noctis - Late 2117

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Epiphany

From the sea approach, Isla Noctis still held the shape of its former self, characteristic cliffs dropping sharply into the red waters below. There was, however, a distinct lack of vegetation or animal life, save a few hardy shorebirds, accustomed over time to the taste of the Agathan fish that populated the desolate sea. Once the coastal cliffs had been scaled, in my case via iron staircases pinioned into the rock face itself, we could take in the full effect of the corpse of what was once called Greenland.

At that point where we had scaled the coast, there was about twenty feet of solid ground before a sharp and near perfectly straight drop of ten feet or so. Beyond the drop and into the horizon, nothing but white, glittering sand. At some places the coastal rim was just over half of a mile wide, and at its narrowest point, just under six feet. Cobbled together upon a sufficiently stable portion of this rim was the Anti-Node Eventuality Taskforce’s formiddable “Winterbase,” the last bastion of mankind in the age of the Archangels.

It was rather impressive, a compound housing a population greater than that of Old New York City. And to think that the crew I had come with was intent on sabotaging the whole of it. I had stuck with the Cult of Ramiel with the express goal of safe passage to Winterbase, although I had first encountered them long before the Archangels rose. They had long been operating in internet forums and chat rooms, discussing their ideas of “ascension” which they believed could only be achieved once all mankind was in communion with the angels, or in other words, enslaved by the Archangel Ramiel II.

Once the team landed, we made our way inside of the base through a series of spillways, utility shafts, and similar such access ways. The mission was a precision operation: get directly to main command undetected, take out ANET leadership, and sabotage the base's vital systems. There was no set exit plan, every one of the Cultists I was accompanied by was prepared to sacrifice their life for this mission. In order to be deployed with them, I had to pass a mind-melding approval from Ramiel II himself under the observation of a Heirophant, in preparation for which I had to truly convince myself that I was also willing to give my life.

It wasn't actually too difficult to convince myself of the sacrifice, but my drive was to prevent the sabotage of Winterbase, so the hard part was hiding that motive in the deepest recesses of my mind while feigning absolute conviction in the Cult’s mission.

The infiltration plan had been so thoroughly rehearsed that from the end of the sea approach to the last unscrewed drainage grate not a word was exchanged between our crew. I had ensured that once inside the base I would be the one watching our rear flank. I planned to eliminate my teammates just as we reached central command, and getting them from behind had the highest chance of success with the four-on-one numbers.

One might think you ought to feel some remorse shooting your own in the back, but I did not. I had watched the Cult evolve from an online group of disparate fanatical personalities to a fascist paramilitary and they were presently set on causing the deaths of tens of millions of people– the vast majority of humankind's remnants. I certainly doubted I would take any joy in it, but I had no second-guesses about the necessity of the act. The bigger fish to fry for me was what would happen when I subsequently came face-to-face with the High Commander of all of ANET, my childhood friend Herod Ecleates.

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There was no time to spare a thought on that right now though, as we were turning into the corridor where I had the best shot at making my move. I took my gun from its holster at my hip and took aim without cocking it, to eliminate as much reaction time as possible. I lined up a headshot that should kill or incapacitate two of my compatriots in one go, and cocked and fired my weapon in an almost singular motion. Our weapons were near completely silent, the sound of the shot barely louder than the click of the safety– two clicks and two of the Cultists dropped to the floor in front of me. Drawing their weapons as they turned, the other two looked at me, but one was dead before his eyes even focused, and the other before his weapon was raised high enough to even fire at me.

I let out a quick, sharp sigh of relief and stepped over the corpses before continuing on down the corridor. We were in a series of narrow emergency access corridors, as opposed to the main functional traverseways of the base, so there was near-zero risk of encountering any ANET operatives, and there were only cameras at actual entrances and exits from the access system itself, at least according to the blueprints. As long as I didn't approach the High Command entryway until I was ready, I shouldn't even be on ANET's radar yet.

I ran over the next steps of my plan in my head: enter the High Command Operations Center, take out the security cameras, take out anyone who comes for me, confront Herod. I took a deep breath, then turned a corner and moved briskly to the door to my target. I opened it, and before taking a step inside, fired three quick but careful shots at the security cameras. As I stepped into the room, two ANET agents were upon me instantly. I wasn't sure if either of them fired a single shot before they were falling to the ground in front of me. I had expected more to come between me and the man himself, but I was immediately subsequently face-to-face with Herod Ecleates.

He entered the room gun raised, and before he fired, I saw the recognition register in his eyes. We hadn't seen each other in over twenty years, but it's hard to forget someone you were inseparable from for the entirety of your childhood, even with the changes of age and an apocalypse.

Without exchanging a word, Herod fired his gun and I felt a sharp burst of pain in my chest. He’d hit me square in the heart, though my kevlar body armor had prevented the bullet from piercing me.

“Wow. You’d really kill me too? You’ve less heart than an angel, Herod.”

“You’d really risk the world like Asaph did?”

“Asaph didn’t risk a thing, your father lived and died in fear and you killed your best friend based on his coward’s tales!”

“I didn’t kill Asaph, Edith, an ANET strike team did.”

I laughed mirthlessly, “Their blood is on your hands. At least I’ll have the decency to kill you myself.” With that I shot Herod dead center in the forehead.

Herod dropped to the ground, dead. I stood in shock at myself. It felt as though time froze for a moment: my mind threatening to spiral with remorse and anger and relief; I composed myself - forcing the emotion back: now isn’t the time to process what I've done, my mission isn’t yet complete. I forced myself to take a step, unsure if the feeling that my body has turned to lead is due to being shot or having executed my childhood friend, and then another step.

I remind myself to stick to the plan: drag out the corpses of the other four members of the strike team I came with, stage a scene of a violent struggle, blame them for the assassination of ANET Acting High Commander Herod Eccleates, wait for the changing of the guard that will surely follow the death of such a heretical leader, deliver the information about the lost Key, and bring about the end of the Archangels by whatever means necessary.

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