Chapter 15: At War With Thyself

Columbia-Battleship Bay Arcade...

This room had a lot of Duke and Dimwit machines.

Nastas had led the Lamb and the Shepard into the Duke and Dimwit hall. As he had thought, the place was deserted. He braced himself on one of the DxD machines and caught his breath. The gravity of the situation slowly seeping into his adrenaline fueled mind.

"Sir!" the Lamb said "Are you all right?"

She moved to approach him but the Shepherd held her back.

"Hold up there." he said before pointing at Nastas with a hostile expression "He's one of them."

The Lamb gave him a quizzical look before turning and taking in Nastas' appearance. Her eyes slowly went wide as the physical deformities made their presence known. Nastas saw the looks he was getting and clucked his tongue as he quickly tried to come up with an idea of how to get out of the situation without ruining thee storyline.

"Why'd you help us?" the Shepherd asked with curiosity mixed with suspicion.

Nastas looked at them and turned away with a scowl. They watched as he began pacing angrily. Nastas kicked over an abandoned vendor's stand. He had to keep the story going, but how?!

He glanced down the hall that the script said they were supposed to go. Even if he did find a way to convince them that he wasn't going to slit their throats at the nearest convenience, his presence would effect the storyline too much.

A thought rung out. Whipping out a Houdini Syringe, Nastas injected himself with a dose and shimmered a pulsing red. The Shepherd quickly pushed the girl behind cover and set his sky-hook spinning, but by then Nastas had stopped shimmering.

Nastas slowly turned to face him. Smiling a deformed smile, Nastas detached a large tube like weapon from his back.

Nastas spun on his heel and disappeared in a whirlwind of red, the sound of snapping bones and gore reached everyone's ears before he was gone.

Booker gulped and began looking around, he knew what the weapon was and already wasn't confident in his chances of winning.

Another bone snapping sound.

Booker whirled to see Nastas standing at an open passageway. He raised his weapon and fired a round projectile that soared toward Booker.

Booker leaped out of the way, and the grenade detonated near the passageway they had entered from. With a rumble the passageway collapsed in a heap of rubble.

Booker scrambled to standing position, but Nastas turned and ran into the passageway he had been standing near.

Booker cursed, the bastard had just sealed the only other way out of here, he was herding them somewhere.

"You okay?" he asked Elizabeth as she stood with a hand to her head.

"I'm fine Mr. Dewitt" she said waving him off "That blast had my head ringing for a bit."

Booker turned back to the ruined passage.

"Why'd he help us if he was just going to attack like that?" she asked him

"Probably needs us alive for whatever messed up plan he has." Booker said before looking at the other passage "I swear half the lunatics in this city don't have a single logical reason for what they do."

Rapture-Pauper's Drop

Silk slid onto the roof of the pawnshop as the wall behind him detonated from a rocket. Debris rained down on his as he jumped up and continued running. Seconds later machinegun fire began scouring the roof behind him as he ran. He saw Delta on the ground in front of the buildings, switching between weapons with ease.

Silk cursed to himself, why'd the big fucker have to make things so hard?!

Delta sent another rocket his way and Silk leaped off the building to avoid it. The rocket, however, turned to follow him and the next thing he knew he was being blown through the wall of the clinic.

As the dust settled Silk got to his knees.

This... was not... Fun.

Delta came barreling up the nearby stairway with his drill already spinning. As he brought it down Silk slid out of the way and jumped onto a nearby wall.

Delta swung his drill again and Silk launched himself over the attack, raking both hooks across the side of Delta's helmet in the process.

Delta roared and released a horde of deadly wasps in Silk's direction.

Silk grimaced at the sight and whipped out another syringe of Houdini before injecting it into himself and vanishing from the swarm's reach. He reappeared at the entrance of the clinic and looked up to see Delta looking down at him from the hole in the second floor wall. Delta switched over to Lightning Bolt and Silk began hopping backwards to dodge the horribly bright flashes of light and energy.

Silk's back hit a piece of debris and he instinctively hopped on top of it before letting loose a barrage of serrated hooks.

Delta leaped out the hole before the hooks tore into his previous position, he then replenished his EVE before switching to Inferno and firing a stream of fire at Silk.

Silk slid down the back of the debris as it was suddenly set ablaze and ran to the nearest bulk head door. As it slid open Delta charged through the burning piece of debris, drill spinning.

Silk turned back to the bulk head door, urging it to open quicker. The second it was open, however, his throat was torn out by a serrated syringe.

Standing on the other side of the door was Eleanor Lamb and half a dozen very pissed off big sisters.

"Ah...shit." Silk was able to get out before he fell backwards in a pool of blood.

Eleanor turned her attention to Delta, who was lumbering over with his red porthole trained on Silk's unmoving body.

"Father... are you okay?" she asked as she looked him over. The other Big sisters ran past her and began checking Delta in more invasive manners.

They crawled all around him in their search for any mortal wounds. Delta was still staring at Silk as one lifted his arm and checked all around it.

Eleanor stared, what were they doing?

One hopped on his back and began checking over the tanks on his back.

"Hey!"

Eleanor turned to see Jack approaching.

"I saw you all rush out," he said as he ran up to her "What's going o-"

He paused as he noticed the scene she had been watching.

"What the-?"

They both watched in shocked silence as the Big Sisters continued with their examination.

Finally Delta's helmet turned green and he raised his head. Seeing that he was okay, the Sisters quickly gave him his space.

"Hey Eleanor," Jack got her attention "I haven't been here a while, I was hoping you could tell me what a pink visor symbolizes. I haven't seen one of those before."

Eleanor was about to question where he had seen such a peculiar colored visor, but then she noticed them. Two of the Big sisters that were currently searching Delta for mortal wounds, they indeed had pink visors.

Before her mind could wonder on the complete obscurity of the color, Silk made the last motion he'd ever do in his life. With a quick thrust, he jammed the sharp syringe into a thinner layer of Delta's armor before expelling it into his system.

Immediately he was mobbed by a whirlwind of syringes and fire as the Big sisters mauled him to death.

Delta would've joined in, if he hadn't been suddenly overcome by a sickeningly familiar sense of inertia.

After Silk had been reduced to a pile of torn clothing and chopped meat, the Big sisters calmed down long enough to witness Delta stumble to the ground in a fit of delirium.

Elsewhere, In Rapture...
"So he got his fix?"

"Yes Mr. Cohen."

"Wonderful, wouldn't want the old dog expiring on us so soon would we?"

Sander Cohen stood with an engineer, they were watching through a viewing window as a team of scientists took apart two different vials. One of them was the familiar brand of Hypnotize that most splicers were familiar with. The other was a bottle procured from Columbia, a bottle that Mr. Cohen claimed contained one of their strange Vigors. Something called Possession.

"Mr. Cohen, are you sure this'll work?" the engineer asked as he looked at into the room with hesitant eyes.

"I've foreseen this my friend!" Cohen exclaimed "This will add a beautiful color to the canvas."

"But feeding an unknown plasmid like this into a splicer, I'm not seeing how such an untested method could go well for them without proper testing."

"But we've already tested it my good man." Cohen said before smirking and walking away, the engineer followed

"But I've found no accounts of our teams even mixing it before!"

"In another universe, we've tested everything that we're about to do." Cohen stopped and turned "Were just putting it to action in this universe."

The engineer just stared.

"Oh, one more thing." Cohen said as he turned "We made need a bit of Decoy in it as well."

Elsewhere, in another universe...

Sander Cohen looked out over the army he'd assembled. After killing Delta and his daughter, things had gone swimmingly. He'd had to demolish all of Pauper's Drop to kill the Big sisters at the time, but it was a sacrifice he knew he had to do. Every splicer had been reconditioned, awaiting their new orders. The Ferals had been drained into another Columbia, somewhere else in the multiverse.

"What now?" came a voice from close behind. Cohen was in his office, which overlooked the massive shipping yard of Fontaine Fisheries. Rows upon rows of trained splicers stood at attention. The voice had come from one of the rehabilitated spider splicers, his Codename was Silk.

"Now, I bid you a farewell. A farewell to all of you." Cohen said while his arms grandly.

"That's it, you make an army and just leave it?!" Silk was stupefied

"My cog in the multiversal web has fulfilled itself." Cohen said before walking to his desk and pulling out a revolver.

"Wait sir, let's not do anything that hasty here!" Silk said quickly.

"Good day Mr. Silk." Cohen said before smiling and sticking the revolver in his own mouth "Victory shall come to us all in the end."

And so... Silk watched in astonishment as Sander Cohen blew his brains out over the glass wall of his office.

...

...

...

...

And then another Sander Cohen seemed to split a hole in space before entering.

"Wait what!?" Silk had literally scrambled back to the door in surprise.

"I thank you." the New Cohen said to his own corpse before turning to look at Silk "A wonderful reaction you gave!"

"Jesus..." Silk muttered

"It would seem that this me has done his part." New Cohen sighed before looking out the bloody window at the small army.

"I thank him for his sacrifice."

"So let me guess." Silk grumbled "You're running things now right?"

"If that's how you'd like to see it," Cohen chuckled

"Great, and if Mitchell's disappearance wasn't nerve-racking enough-" Silk grumbled to himself

"Oh? The self-raving madman with the cleaver? He came from here?"

"-Now our own leaders are killing themselves just so OTHER versions of them can take their place!"

"Silk."
"What?"

"Mitchell came from this universe, correct?"

"Yeah, he's ours. We got loads of Dicer Splicers running around. There were only so many we could condition. Mitchell just so happened to be the most damaging one. Taking over the radio broadcast system and filling our ears with his mad ravings 24/7."

Cohen just smiled "Tell me about these... Other Dicer Splicers."

Nastas looked out the window of the room he had invaded. The inhabitants were nowhere to be found, it had been only the easiest place to hide in. The Columbian military were going all out with their protocols now, he'd had to use several Houdini Syringes to get to Main Street. Not too far from the house was the small gondola station that led to the First Lady airship. According to the script, they'd come through here soon. The generator would short-circuit, and then they'd have to retrieve the shock jockey vigor from the hall of heroes. Nastas had to make sure they followed that script.

Cohen had gone dark since he'd intervened in the story, Nastas wasn't taking that as a good sign. He'd have to explain that he was just trying to keep the MC's alive! Yes, maybe Cohen wouldn't strap him to one of those explosive devices like he'd heard from several other Splicers. Nastas was fast, he was sure he'd have a couple minutes before the MC's got here. Once they arrived, he could resume following them and get back on track.

Before Nastas could plan out his strategy more, a familiar ripping sound came from behind him. The boss must have finally decided to question him... Nastas swallowed nervously before turning away from the window.

...

That wasn't Sander Cohen.

Columbia: Battleship Bay- Gondola Station...

Sander Cohen watched the Shepard approach the ticket booth with the Lamb trailing closely behind. The room in front of it had been abandoned, all it's inhabitants removed entirely from the scene. Cohen had taken care of them, he'd decided that this scene was perfect for an introduction.

He saw the Shepard's hand clench as they neared. Cohen smiled warmly at the gesture.

"Mr. Dewitt, so glad to finally meet you." Cohen said as he stretched out his hands in front of him.

"Have we met before?" Booker asked.

"In a way, I'm so glad I could meet you without the restraints of conscious flaying the very environment around us."

Booker rolled his eyes, "Hey are you the one operating this booth?"

Cohen laughed "No, Mr. Dewitt, although-"

Cohen stopped.

It was happening... It was happening sooner than expected.

Before Booker could question the man's sudden pause in speech, blaring sirens cut through the area. Security bars slid down, blocking them from the hall to the right. Booker set his sky-hook spinning, when a loud slamming sound drew his attention back to the ticket booth. A machine gun lay on the desk, the man was now walking away.

"Use it wisely Mr. Dewitt." Cohen said before turning the corner. He stepped past the body of the real ticket booth man. He'd have to work quickly...

...This war was about to get a whole lot bigger.

Booker was about to shout at the man's retreating figure, but then he heard yells coming from the barred hallway. Booker grabbed the machine gun, he was surprised to find it actually loaded. The first sodomites ran to the bars and began pounding away, reaching their filthy hands toward them. A repeated thumping sound came from behind them.

Finally, a massive sodomite with the arms of a gorilla charged straight into several other sodomites before barreling straight through the bars.

Nastas was flung against the wall like a ragdoll. The dark-suited figure stepped closer.

"I'm disappointed in this version's training tactics."

Nastas looked up. It may have similar characteristics, but there's no way this was HIS Sander Cohen.

This Cohen was taller, thinner and lankier. He wore the trademark bunny mask, but this one seemed black and metallic.

"You're another version of him." Nastas coughed "The hell are you doing here?!"

"Isn't it obvious, little splicer." Dark Cohen asked before he seemed to slide over to the window "I failed to conquer my universe. So... I've decided to take this one instead."

"But you all agreed to take your own universe right?!" Nastas yelled before standing "What about you all getting your own separate chances."

"Ahhh, so this version isn't tight lipped about what we discuss with each other." Dark Cohen laughed "Well for your information, I believe my masterpiece will be grander than this one's poor excuse of a painting. SO I'M TAKING HIS CANVAS!"

And with that, Dark Cohen slid forward and raised his hand. Nastas was then lifted with an intensely upgraded version of Telekinesis and launched through the glass door and onto the balcony. Nastas scrambled to his hands and knees, he looked up to see a Columbian transport ship fly by. A tear in space appeared above it, dark suited Splicers in strange black vests and black bunny masks leaped from the tear and onto the ship.

Nastas could only hear the sounds of battle as the ship spiraled out of control and crashed into a local ice cream shop. Panicked screams as more tears opened, and a street brawl between the Columbian forces and the strange new Splicers broke out.

Several landed on the far side of the balcony Nastas was on. He cursed, Mr. Cohen was not going to like this one bit.

"Ink it all in!" one of them yelled before pulling out a hatchet and dashing towards him.

Nastas rolled backwards as the hatchet imbedded itself in the ground where he once was. Nastas whipped a hook out from his coat, which extended into a hooked sword, before cleaving through the top half of the Bunny Splicer's head. It fell backward as another one flipped a small table and took cover behind it. Another dived behind some hedges.

Nastas glanced back into the room, the Dark Cohen was gone. He then dashed toward the table as the one behind the hedge opened fire. Nastas whipped out another hooked sword and hooked it into the table just as the Bunny Splicer reared up to fire. Nastas pulled himself over the table and kicked the Splicer back before digging the hook of his other sword into his torso and pulling him in front of the other Splicer's gunfire.

The second Nastas heard the click of an empty magazine, he tossed the body away and darted towards the other Splicer. The Bunny Splicer saw him and gave up on trying to reload, opting to use his weapon as a club instead. Nastas rolled under the swing and cleaved his sword through the Bunny Splicer's side. He grunted before swinging again. Nastas backed up to avoid the swing before darting back again. This time the Bunny Splicer just dropped his rifle all together before leaping out of the way of Nastas's blade and kicking him in the side. Nastas caught himself.

"Gonna put you down!" the Bunny Splicer roared before pulling a hand-cannon from a sash on his vest. Nastas rolled to the side as a bullet tore a chunk of the ground out behind him. He swung his sword in a cross arc, cleaving the Bunny Splicer's arm off at the elbow. As the hand-cannon and fore-arm fell to the ground, the bunny Splicer quickly grabbed Nastas and cracked his metal mask on his head. Nastas stumbled back as the Bunny Splicer tore something else from his sash and primed it. He then started stumbling towards Nastas as blood gushed from his stump of an arm.

Nastas shook his head and dived to the side, swooping up the fallen and bloody hand-cannon. The half-dead Splicer turned to him just as the round tore clean through the remains of the metal bunny mask and through his forehead.

The splicer stumbled back into the balcony before the explosive detonated, sending rubble down into the street below.

Nastas let out a sigh of relief...

...Right before a large piece of wood crashed into his back. Nastas sprawled out on the ground as the sound of clapping grew closer.

"At least this version has a good eye for underlings." Dark Cohen mused as he approached.

Nastas groaned as he got to his feet.

"Your talents as a warrior prompt a small reward before I use your blood as paint." Dark Cohen bowed "My name is Andre 'Ink' Cohen... and I'm going to make art from your corpse."

[Andre 'Ink' Cohen AKA Ink vs. Recon Spider Splicer Nastas.]

Nastas spat out some blood before dashing towards Ink. Ink chuckled before spreading out his palm and tearing a chunk of the nearby wall before sending it spiraling towards Nastas. Nastas slid under it and spun towards Ink blades flashing. Ink pulled the nearby table in Nastas's path before kicking it into him.

Nastas sailed backwards and caught himself in a roll, he got up just as he saw the corpses of the Bunny Splicers rise into the air and go sailing towards him. Nastas dodged to the left as he heard a crunching sound. He spun around just as a chunk of rock impacted with his face. Before he could orientate himself, Ink followed with roundhouse kick to his already damaged face. Nastas reeled backward as the world swam red, he blindly whipped out a syringe full of Incinerate! and shot up as Ink walked around him like a shark.

He instantly tossed a ball of fire at Ink, who slid to the side, pulled a chunk of the balcony floor out and slammed it into Nastas. The force was enough to send him flying off the balcony. Without thinking, he extended his hooked sword and caught hold of a nearby sky rail. He zoomed across it and over the bloody streets. Below, the Bunny Splicers were just finishing up the inhabitants of Columbia.

Nastas caught his breath as he traversed the sky-rail.

"I hope you don't expect to elude me so easily!" He heard Ink yell from behind him.

Nastas spun around to see Ink riding a large chunk of concrete, which was suspended by his Telekinesis.

Nastas cursed, why did alter-dimensional plasmids have to be so surprising?

"Have at him boys." Ink chuckled as Nastas hit a turn in the sky-rail. It spun and went around the back of the same buildings, which several transport ships were hovering over. Several Bunny Splicers hopped off, three armed with sniper rifles. Another one held up his hand as the three snipers lined up behind cover. He then pointed at Nastas, instantly they all got up and fired a volley of anti-personnel rounds his way. Nastas could here the bullets whiz by as he swung on the sky-rail. Once they all emptied their magazines they hopped back on board the Transport ship and floated after him.

Nastas didn't feel in the mood for being chased around by psychotic bunny masked hunters.

He spotted the police barricades in front of the entryway that led to the Hall of Heroes. According to the script, the Shepherd and Lamb would get there eventually.

Nastas disembarked from the sky-rail and landed in a roll past several barricades.

"I'm gonna rip out your spine!" yelled a Bunny Splicer as he leaped over a barricade brandishing a worn cleaver.

Nastas leveled his hand cannon and fired. The round tore through the Splicer's jaw, but he kept coming. Another one jumped on top of another barricade with a long single-shot rifle. She leveled it as the other Splicer dove at Nastas with his cleaver.

Nastas parried the attack and leaped out of the way of the oncoming rifle bullet. Every motion he made sent him backward towards the gate. Behind the Splicers, Nastas could see Ink standing in the street opening a tear. He ignored it before sending another hand-cannon round directly through the side of the male Bunny Splicer's head as the female one finished reloading.

Before either of them could make their next move, an earth shattering roar came from the main street. They both turned to see two massive arms pull a body through.

Is that thing supposed to be a brute?!

Indeed, the creature pulling itself out of the tear seemed similar to the ADAM fueled Splicer hulks in Rapture. But this thing was larger than any Big Daddy Nastas could remember.

It looked like it had had several buckets of ink dumped on it, with a small black bunny mask impaled on to its forehead with several jagged pieces of metal.

It sniffed the air a few times before settling its vacant gaze on Nastas and the female Bunny Splicer. It gave a guttural roar before charging at them. The Bunny Splicer spun her Rifle towards the Bunny Brute and fired. The round tore clean through its right lung and out its back, but it just kept coming.

The Bunny Splicer leaped off the barricade as the Bunny Brute dug his hands into the ground in front of it. She readied another round when the massive Brute flipped the barricade along with the ground under it. The rubble buried the Bunny Splicer's legs, and she'd lost hold of her rifle in the small wave of debris. Nastas ran pass the unmanned booth and turned to see the Bunny Brute loom over the pinned Bunny Splicer. She pulled a shotgun from a strap on her back and fired directly into the Brute's face.

It shrugged it off and dug it's fist into her abdomen. Nastas internally winced as the Brute lifted her demolished corpse. He turned to Nastas and roared again before flinging the body at him. Nastas continued running as the body imploded against the side of the booth. He scrambled toward the elevator as the Brute tore the entire booth out of his way and tossed it behind him.

Just as the doors slid open, Nastas ducked inside and smashed at the controls. He only let himself breathe after the elevator was closed and on its way.

He leaned against the opposite side of the elevator as the roars of the Brute got distant.

How the hell did a Cohen with THOSE kind of soldiers lose?

Esther couldn't feel her limbs, those feelings were lost in the pain. She didn't know where she was, she only remembered waiting at her post for the False Shepherd and the Lamb and... and...

She screeched as another wave of pain crashed into her. She was disoriented, she couldn't see or think.

That's right, the suited man had...had approached her before she blacked out.

He'd had a sickening amount of make-up on.

Esther's mind was slowly going numb from the pain. She could now comprehend that she was curled in a fetal position, propped up against something hard.

She wasn't bound, but her body felt heavier. Like she was wearing armor.

The smell of the sea... that smell was... filthy somehow. It wasn't like the beach at battleship bay, it smelled like something had rotten in it.

Esther rolled onto her stomach, every simple move she made felt as if some had stabbed her with serrated blades.

Tentatively, she raised her hand to her head. It came into contact with something... it wasn't her head.

Slowly, Esther let her eyelids slide open.

She saw her own hand, pressed up against glass.

It wasn't a window, the glass was attached to her head.

A helmet... she was wearing a helmet.

She ripped at it, trying to get it off.

The helmet seemed secured to her clothing.

She moved to a sitting position and looked down at herself.

It was some sort of leathery armor, with some metal integrated here and there.

Why was she wearing this?

Why couldn't she get it off?!

Why was everything so... heavy?!

And... what was that floating above her?

Slowly, Esther raised her head...

...And immediately let loose another ear splitting shriek.

The corpse of a half rotting sodomite floated by, making ripples in the air as it...

This wasn't air!

She looked around more, everything was flooded. A grand hall was now littered with rotting debris that floated around sodomite corpses.

She felt the filth, everything seemed rotted. The bodies, the crumbling architecture, even the very water seemed polluted.

... the suited man.

She had been dragged from the glorious city.

The prophet had found displeasure with her, he's turned his back on her!

She was now cursed to rot...

... to rot in the Sodom.

"What's the point?"

Cohen smiled at the Engineer "What with Ink starting his campaign against my canvas, we need Delta and the other Rapture inhabitants fully preoccupied while I work on a solution."

"But, she hasn't bonded with the slug properly!" the engineer said "That thing'll eat her from the inside out."

"An unfortunate sacrifice must be made to ensure that my masterpiece will be created," Cohen pointed at him "She'll last long enough for me to deal with Ink and keep him from killing my stars too quickly."

The engineer sighed "Still, one psychotic Big Sister won't be enough. Jack, Delta and Eleanor were able to cause massive damage to Rapture... now they have the Big Sisters on their side and-"

Cohen slapped him. The engineer stumbled back

"Do not demean my work child! As an Artist it was inevitable that I'd see that option as well."

The engineer looked at him with wide eyes. Cohen recomposed himself and stepped away.

"That is why... I made several other arrangements as well..."

Rapture, Medical Pavilion.

Jack looked through the research logs.

"Right here..." he said into the radio "Cohen's Splicers tore out several notes on ADAM and Age manipulation."

"That's strange." replied Eleanor's voice "Anybody with enough ADAM could be young forever. Most of Rapture's scientists already know this, and the ones who're left are working for Cohen."

"I know, but these aren't for staying young." Jack said as he felt the edge of one of the torn pages "They're all about age Acceleration."

"What?" Eleanor asked "That's strange, most of Rapture's Populace were always trying to stay young and beautiful. I never knew that researchers had even thought about age acceleration."

"Yeah, it says in the rest of the logs that these were specifically ordered from Fontaine Futuristics." he dropped the tattered logbook "Makes sense they'd be sent here of all places."

He was in Dr. Steinman's operating room, the same one he'd killed the mad Doctor in years ago. The bodies were still propped up like they were back then, only they seemed to have rotten more.

Steinman had always found imperfections with all of his patients. Too Fat, Too thin, Too old, Too young.

He'd tried various forms of Body modifications and ADAM cocktails to try and achieve Perfection.

Obviously he failed, over and over again.

Jack sighed. Just another lunatic in a city full of them.

"By the way Eleanor," he said " how's Delta doing?"

Eleanor sighed "He's still in his Coma. The Big Sisters have been glued to his side most of the time and we still can't figure out what that bastard Spider Splicer did to him. Aunt Gracie and Albert say this happened before. I can only hope that he'll wake up again like they say he did."

Jack smirked "Don't worry, I get the feeling he's not just gonna roll over and croak on us."

He began walking out of the operating room, "How's things back at the drop?"

"The Splicers are just waiting for a hoard of those feral things to just bull rush us at once. Grace and Albert seem like the only things keeping them from starting mass suicides all over the place."

"I doubt they'd do that. But then again, you've been here longer than I have. Any luck on finding the remaining Little Sisters?"

"As far as we know, a few are currently roaming the more outer sections of Rapture."

"Then that's where I'm heading next-"

Jack paused when he heard a loud, strange sound behind him. He turned around and found a shimmering apparition hovering above the operating table.

"Hold on Eleanor, something's happening here." he said before raising his revolver

A figure fell out of the apparition, it closed behind him.

He stood with shaky knees, a black hood and robe obscured most of his body. There was a coffin strapped to his back along with a large sword.

"Disgusting..." he said as he rose to full height

Jack cocked an eyebrow.

A pair of eyes stared at him through holes in the hood.

"This room is disgusting, it reeks of filth."

"Who are you?" Jack asked as he kept a tight grip on his revolver

The hooded man raised his arms "I seek the Founder's perfection! Grant me the ability to cleanse this place of it's filthy imperfections!"

There was the familiar sense of lunacy here that most of the Splicers here had. But Jack felt that this lunatic didn't belong here. His clothes were too clean, that sword looked like it had been recently polished. Not the Rapture type.

And his voice was sickeningly familiar.

"Do I know you? Jack asked

Fat chance, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd heard this man's voice somewhere.

"You have no place in the Prophet's world, Sodomite." the man said as he absent-mindedly pulled the sword from his back "Now kneel, and allow me to make you... Perfect."

There it was. The way he said 'perfect.'

"Dr. Steinman!?"

"A MAN CHOOSES! A SLAVE OBEYS!"

Andrew Ryan stared up at Jack as he prepared to deliver the finishing blow. Ryan attempted to stand, but just succeeded at falling again. Only this time, he swore he saw a strange light pass over him.

The next time he tried to stand, he found Jack gone.

He was alone in his office, but it looked so different.

It looked more worn, as if years had passed.

He spat out some blood. To the side lay the broken handle of his golf club with a trail of blood leading away.

He looked to his other side and involuntarily swallowed.

It was him... dead, the rest of his golf club imbedded in his skull

His expensive suit had worn down and his flesh had rotted away.

Yet he himself still breathed air.

Something must've happened.

Fontaine must have done something.

This wasn't how he was going to end.

He had already resigned to dying like a man. At the hands of his own son.

Yet Fontaine dare to deny him that as well?

After he finds out what happened, there shall be hell to pay.

He rubbed his wounded head as he slowly stumbled to the window.

He looked out over his beautiful city, Crafted from his own sweat and blood.

It had aged as well.

Several sections were gone, several others seemed to be darkened. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

He stumbled through his office to the Rapture Control terminal. Sure enough, it looked as if someone had fiddled with it.

Cursing, Ryan reached into his suit and produced a key. He had planned for Jack to tear it from his cold, dead hands.

He inserted it into the console. It fit snugly into it's former home.

He gave a small smile, before the pain in his head returned and he winced.

Another walk through his office.

Searching through the security systems, he found that he couldn't access several research institutions and one residential. Frowning, he made note to check on that later.

He found that someone had rewired control to somewhere in Persephone. His mind wandered to that thieving witch, Lamb. He also found that most of that place had been destroyed.

He allowed himself a small smile before quickly rectifying the rewire.

Soon enough, Cameras and turrets began lighting up all around Rapture as they prepared to serve out their functions once more.

Ryan made his way to his desk and opened one of the bottom drawers. He took out some gauze and began wrapping his wound as he looked out the window.

His city was dying, and he would do everything in his power to save it.

He finished wrapping his wound, he then walked back to the terminal and found that the logs picked up by cameras seemed to have had an influx of Data.

As the security Systems readjusted themselves, he opened one dating to around the time of his death. According to the log, that had been years ago.

He looked at his own corpse for a while.

Opening the log, he found exactly what he had imagined would happen after dying.

Fontaine revealing himself and betraying Jack.

But Jack escaped as well.

It would seem Ryan was out of date with his knowledge of what had happened in the time since his death.

He pulled several more logs and began looking through them.

"So let's say, for argument's sakes, that this wasn't planned. That he didn't expect this to happen."

"They, Brother, they didn't expect this to happen."

"But wouldn't probability imply that there exists a form that suspected something like this would happen?"

"Then the rest would know as well."

"Precisely, so they simply allowed it to happen."

"What would they gain?"

"I hypothesize that it's some disturbing right of passage."

"But how would that explain the supporting ones?"

"They simply accepted that they couldn't win, therefore offering their resources to one who could."

"That theory has an overabundance of finality in it."

"But it explains it, does it not?"

"True, so back to the original topic of what the purpose is."

"-Sigh- That's the problem with Artists, only they can truly interpret their own work. A well-known backfire of the arts in general since the purpose of it is to convey feelings properly to the viewer."

"A romantic tragedy that seems to be forgotten."

"Anyhow, it seems to be a strange exhibition of the term 'Survival of the Fittest."

"So they're fighting each other for a reason?"

"Apparently one worth starting a mass multi-dimensional war."

"What could be so important?"

"Again, Only the Artist truly knows."

Confession time.

The author's basically been acting like a royal jackass for the past few months.

Spending all his time insulting us instead of doing anything productive.

You know what he said when he finally gave this to me to upload?

HAVE FUN WITH THE SCRAPS YOU TAIWANESE PROSTITUTE!

I mean he's usually a dirt bag but Jesus, he's been acting like queen bee mixed with stereotypical high-school football player.

It's like his rage that's generally directed towards SilverHead868 is now directed at all of us.

Don't see how he got to that point.

I don't know when he's going to bother making the next chapter.

Maybe I should threaten him by giving you all his actual name.

Phone number.

Maybe an address.

I'm totally not liable for anything that happens afterwards.

If you're reading this Grieve, you know damn well I'll do it.

Bitch about it all you want in the group Chats but you know I'll still do it.

Hell, I'm the one in control of this account.

I could probably add in a couple bullshit things specifically to mess with your "Masterpiece".

Again, bitch about it in the group Chats.

I'm ranting now.

Look the point is that GrieveWriter's being an asshole and he's basically taken the rest of the story hostage.

{[A.N. END]}