Aegis - Understreets

Valentine forced himself to his feet with a grunt, checking around them; at the very least, they were alone here, and from what he could see, were unseen. He pinged Ghost with his radio to signal that they were clear, and a second later, another anti-tank rocket streamed towards the bridge they'd stood on - now high in the distance. Fragments of rubble crashed onto rooftops across the street from them; they wind had carried them some distance horizontally with the parachute.

Well, at the very least, they'd bought themselves a few hours of panic in the Sky District. The de Argentums would be up in arms about this, but even then, when they went to ground, they'd be safe. From here, his first priority was to find somewhere to eat, some medical supplies to treat her, and then explain the situation to her. Assuming all went as intended, he could then bring her to Cocytus.

"Can you walk?" he asked, offering her his left hand and pulling his gun with his right - while ambidextrous, as was considered a requirement for Human-PLUS candidacy, he was more practiced in shooting with his right.

A glance indicated a few things to him. The first was that her arm was definitely broken - he could see the jutting bend in her elbow joint. With luck, the joint damage would prove minimal; Sky District medical technology was more than enough to preserve her, if worst came to worst. He saw little blood on the kimono, which meant that at the very least, she wasn't suffering from blood loss. The fact that she wasn't overwhelmed by pain meant that she probably didn't have any serious internal bleeding, either.

For his part, he was fine; his ankle hurt more than it should've, maybe sprained, but nothing that wouldn't sort itself out in due course. His priority, for now, was to take care of her - and get themselves some food. He found himself momentarily reaching for a cigarette, but stopped himself. It would make a bad impression.

He took off his coat, shrugging it off his shoulders and holding it with his free hand. "Put this on. Kimono's too conspicuous down here. Need to keep a low profile."

Valentine looked at her clothing; it fitted well enough, and looked comfortable to move and fight in. She'd blend in just fine; her beauty made her stand out some, but to no great extent. Based on the sword at her hip, he was confident that she could handle anyone who came her way.

He grabbed the kimono and stuffed it into a burning-hot exhaust vent on the roof; it would light on fire soon enough, and by the time it was found, it would be little more than a cinder. He shrugged his coat back on and stepped over to the edge of the roof; thankfully, there was a fire escape leading down from a balcony on the top floor.

"I'll procure some medical supplies, then we'll find somewhere to talk and treat your arm," he said, as he swung himself over the edge, dropping a few feet down onto the steel platform; it wobbled a little, but held well enough. "There's a restaurant, a few streets over from here. The people there know me. They won't ask questions."

He clicked on his radio, and heard the sound of gunfire cracking over it. It seemed that Ghost's group were still firing on the police; he was hardly surprised. The men hadn't had a good fight in a few weeks now.

"We're clear. Disengage," Valentine ordered, and upon hearing Ghost's affirmative, killed the line. From there, he turned back to Titi, who was looking down at him from the edge of the roof.

"Follow me."

"We need to treat you quickly," Valentine said matter-of-factly, appearance no less detached than a few moments ago; but inside, his mind was racing. Underground laboratory? What could have her this nervous? Surely, just business interests wouldn't quite manage it - she was smarter than that.

No, this was something bigger. She was working on something; he saw it in her eyes, in her movements, in the way she darted around and the way she remained so self-assured. She had a trump card, just as he did. And it looked like she wasn't going to show her hand until he showed his.

"What's the location of the underground lab?" he asked, as he quickly ran down the rickety fire escape, boots clanging against steel. As usual for the Understreets, all the windows were barred - preventing people from getting in was a far greater concern than being able to escape in this place. "I can have a squad of Tracers guarding there in fifteen minutes. Possibly along with a Sentinel or two, depending on how busy Atlas has been."

He had to admit, having spoken the last part, he didn't feel so confident.

"We'll settle down somewhere for fifteen minutes. Treat you, get some food into us both - it appears that our lunch was rather interrupted, after all," he said, as he swung off the bottom platform and rolled across a pile of dull-grey garbage bags on the alley roadway. They cushioned his impact, and he quickly pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the screaming in his shoulder blades from their earlier punishment during the drop. Realising that Titi was injured, he turned to face her where she stood on the platform, itself a good few metres above the ground. He held out his arms.

"Jump; I'll catch you. Try to keep your broken arm in close to you."

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She knew he was right; she needed treatment and that was a fact. Her thoughts were racing and she hoped everything was okay down below. If she most her lab then everything was for naught. She had spent too many years on this for it to fall through now. Paranoia was doing her body little good.

She cringed as she stepped down a bit too hard before realizing there was a much larger jump ahead of her. The young woman looked down at him with slight distrust in her eyes before doing as she was told. Outside of getting her arm broken he hasn't done anything to harm her and that was completely unintentional. She jumped down hoping he would actually catch her but waiting to hit the ground at the same time.

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Valentine saw that he'd misjudged the distance between them, and lunged at the last second, every synapse snapping into action. Small an action as this was, he needed her alive and functional - a compound fracture in her arm would be rather unconducive to such a goal.

She impacted in his arms harder than he'd anticipated, and overextended as they were, he struggled to support her weight. She plunged another few feet towards the ground, but he used his body to absorb the blow, moving into a crouch; eventually, he brought her to a halt a mere inch above the ground. After exhaling heavily, he helped her to her feet, glancing at her arm - it had moved a little, and looked painful, but wasn't much worse off than it had been.

He stood beside her and began moving towards the alleyway's exit; the street beyond was bustling, and he managed to slip into the stream. Thousands of people bustling, consuming, all with their own problems, all living their own lives. A woman with an abusive husband, a boy whose puppy had died; he looked into their eyes, knew not the tragedies, only their presence. The overbearing presence of tragedy, and acceptance of that tragedy.

Oddly enough, he felt kinship, and dirtiness through that kinship.

"Alright," he whispered, leaning over to Titi, "where is the lab located? We can have the site secured in fifteen, if you think it's under threat."

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The fall was a bit jarring on her arm and she cringed as she was suddenly in his arms. "Fuck this hurts," she stood on her feet and shook the pain off as best as she could. Slowly but surely she could feel her nausea growing from the massive amounts of pain in her arm. Still, she found herself stumbling after him, too stubborn to let her pain take the best of her. She slipped into the crowd, only drawing a few small glances from the people around her. She was quite used to being stared at though... even among the nobles her natural beauty was highly revered. She merely ignored the looks and paid attention to what was around her. There were people everywhere, looking like they needed more hope in their lives... Once as a young girl she wanted to be that hope. Now she knew that being the source of hope for anyone was a much larger task than she had ever warranted.

She looked at her companion, making the decision a leader needed to make; the split second decision on whether or not to trust him, and she chose to trust him. After all, this was all part of her bigger plan. "The lab is underneath the city... I'm talking the deepest pits of the ruins of what the city was in the Old World... There's an old warehouse..." She murmured, following him along the way. "There's only two ways in and only two people with access codes to get in there..."

Giving him the coordinates, she hoped that his team would be able to secure it before anything bad happened to it. "I have something in there that must stay protected at all cost," was her only other explanation.

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Valentine nodded as she gave him the coordinates, and within moments, had clicked on his earpiece. As usual, Atlas' eternally-chipper voice answered.

"So, how's your date going?"

Valentine groaned inwardly, eternally infuriated by Atlas. It was always a problem when one of the smartest individuals in the world - and one of the few with a solid handle on RELICS technology - was also a complete smartass. Still, it did brighten up his day from time to time, he granted the man that.

"Allow me to inform you," he said, voice assuming a brisk and mildly irritated tone, "that I will disembowel you with a rusty spoon if you refer to my military operations as 'dates'."

"Love you too, boss," Atlas said, and Valentine could practically see the broad grin on the young man's face. "What can I do for you?"

"Get me eight Tracers into the tunnels," Valentine said. "Send them to coordinates 3-4-6-8, 1-2-5. Level B12. Armed for heavy-duty combat. They'll find a pair of tunnels; split up. At the end of each, there's a locked door. Do not let anyone through those doors."

"Or we return to the disembowelling?"

This time, Valentine couldn't help but let a tiny smile crack his features. He confirmed Atlas' suspicions and killed the channel, wordlessly ducking into a pharmacy. He emerged with a wooden splint and a pile of bandages, and a few painkillers - rudimentary supplies to be sure, but the best that were available down here.

He took her another few streets, with the odd concerned glance in her direction. She was suffering, that was for certain; the sooner he got the painkillers into her, the better. Not to mention, it might loosen up her tongue a little, give him some explanation as to just what she was so desperate to hide from the world.

After what felt like hours, the pair arrived at a small, dingy restaurant. The lighting was dull, and he moved them through to an obscure alcove; he quickly ordered two bowls of noodles for them. As he sat in a chair in the alcove, facing her across a table, he let himself breathe properly at last.

"We're clear," he sighed, more to himself than to her. He gestured for her to hold out her arm as he pulled the bandages and splint from his pockets.

"Now, I suppose you're wondering who I am, aren't you?" he said, with a little trepidation. He had little indication that she was going to give him any secrets without him providing her with a few. As it was, she didn't even know his name.

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"Allow me to inform you, that I will disembowel you with a rusty spoon if you refer to my military operations as 'dates'."

She couldn't help but giggle a bit at his words. In what world was this even close to a date? She half wanted to meet the person on the other end of his line and ask them that. Explosions, death and a broken arm? Well it was most certainly the more interesting than any date she had ever been on. While she hadn't been particularly fond of pursuing romantic interests, her family had insisted on her at least attempting to find a man that would be useful to them.

Letitia listened to him give coordinates through his earpiece, wondering just how big of an operation this really was. The longer she was with him the more she realized she had no clue who she was really dealing with. It bothered her, yet at the same time she realized she had her own secrets to keep, secrets even her grandfather had held for years. That lab mattered more to her than even her own life. She glanced at him when he smiled and couldn't help but be a bit stunned. She really hadn't seen him smile now that she thought about it, and he was even more handsome even with the small smile on his face.

She had never been through this part of the city before and she stuck quite close to him, a bit nervous in large crowds. She even followed him into the pharmacy, though she didn't go much farther than the doorway. Her exhaustion was catching up to her and she was more than happy to sit down across from him in the chair. "Clear is good," she sighed to herself and let him fix up her arm.

"Well the question hasn't really crossed my mind with the explosions and arm breakage and everything else, but now that I have a few moments to actually think... yes I am a bit curious as to who you are... and where we are... and what's going on... I'm assuming a good portion of that wasn't a part of whatever plan you originally had," she spoke quickly and quietly, pulling her jacket off all the way so that he had easier access to her arm. Moving it hurt like hell. "And this was definitely not a part of any of my plans."

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Valentine laid the splint against her arm - watching her wince as he straightened the limb out - and began tightly wrapping the bandages against it, with the intention of wrapping it just loosely enough to permit bloodflow. He glanced up at her as he worked, watching her slim, delicate features contort with pain at his actions - for a second, almost the tiniest bit of sympathy struck through him.

She was beautiful, he realised; he'd seen the glances she'd gotten walking in here, but paid them little attention. He didn't think about beauty this much - insofar as he was concerned, there was little of it that remained in this world. Her shoulder-length hair dusted over dark eyes that shimmered in the dull light, her cheekbones high and refined. Her body was in surprisingly good condition for someone of her station - she'd taken good care of herself, the faintest traces of musculature betraying her strength and speed.

"I'll be honest," he said cautiously, not meeting her gaze, staring down at her arm as he wrapped it intently - why was he so nervous? - "things went a little more to plan than you might enjoy hearing. Admittedly, our landing was intended to be somewhat more dignified, but the explosions were entirely my doing." He reached the end of the roll of bandages, and began tying it up, to hold the splint in place - ideally, they'd put a solid cast on it at a later date.

"I do apologise for the rather... intense means of extracting you. However, insofar as the people of the Sky District are concerned, you just took an anti-tank missile to the face, and are quite thoroughly dead. Naturally, they'll discover the ruse eventually, but this gives us a few days up our sleeve to work out arrangements in peace."

He pulled his hands away, nodding at his handiwork. He'd tied thousands of bandages like it, on himself and on others; battlefield injuries, day after day, the sound of grunts and screams just melting into a cacophony of history. This one seemed no different, yet its wearer was very much so; she had neither the naïve indifference of a civilian, nor the terrified pragmatism of a soldier, nor the internalised emotional suicidality of a Cultivator. She was something different, and if nothing else, he couldn't help but be at least slightly interested in who she was.

"Now, to answer your questions," he said, and took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to plunge off the deep end of this arrangement between them. "My name - insofar as it exists - is Adam Valentine. I am twenty-nine years old-" - just been that way for rather a long while - "-and a Knight."

He let that sit, with all the implications it carried. Even in this city, the stories persisted; great warriors, nestled deep within terrible Reapers, upholding the abstract principles above all. Even he knew only the barest origins of its beginning - so it was said, the first Reaper subject, who went only by that name. A man of strength and nobility and skill, who fought to bring peace and order to the world, and was eventually betrayed and slain by that whom he held most dear. Yet his legacy lived on, the principles he upheld - honour, freedom, truth, justice and peace - carried in the hearts of every Knight, allowing them to brave the darkness within a Reaper.

So the stories said.

He'd met Knights. More than enough of them. Some of them still upheld the dream - younger ones, more idealistic ones. But the ones who lived? The ones who survived, as long as anyone survived piloting a Reaper - and for a given value of 'survival' - either broke those promises, or never made them at all.

Honour, freedom, truth and justice were all weaknesses; if you wanted to live, to win, you had to be willing to do anything. The Age of Knights - if it had ever existed - was long past. This war was no longer for glory - it was just hell,[i] an irrevocable hell on Earth, one that mankind had buried itself in and could not physically emerge from. Perhaps the Age of Knights had ended when humanity finally collectively realised that the world could never again know peace; that war was an irrevocable part of its existence.

Or perhaps, Valentine mused, the Age of Knights was nothing but an absurd myth, as was the First Knight, and the Dark Knight who slew him. Maybe they were all just stories, propaganda, made up to help bring a public more into line with the deployment of things that mankind [i]knew, in their hearts, they should never have tried to touch.

A pause later, and he continued. "I am leader of Childhood's End, a combative group who seek an end to the endless conflicts that ravage the Earth. I have, at my disposal, a fully-functional Reaper - the Ninth, if that means anything to you." He doubted it would; almost everything about the original XK-REAPER program had been obliterated when Japan was wiped clean. Even then, though, it was worth testing the waters.

"I have contacted you, 'Titi', because I believe that we can assist each other in our mutual goals. You have technology, supplies and information - and I possess sufficient power to take this city in a day, with sufficient preparation."

An exaggeration, for certain - the meticulous planning required to disable the guns on the walls, and thus allow a Reaper to operate freely, would be extraordinarily difficult. Nevertheless, it remained apparent as a feasible statement under perfect circumstances.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over his earpiece; Valentine recognised it instantly as Atlas', and even more sharply, registered the rare tone of seriousness in his voice - and, rarer, fear.

"Commander, this is Atlas. We're in position. Tracers have split off and are setting up guard positions near the doors, but... Christ, we're getting readings."

"What kind of readings?" Valentine muttered under his breath, feeling rather irritated that his work here was being interrupted. Still, Atlas knew not to bother him over unimportant things.

"We're not sure," Atlas crackled. "But I'm down there with them, and... well, something's not right. I can't quite put my finger on it, and, well, y'know..."

Valentine nodded and swiftly killed the line. They both knew what those symptoms meant. Perhaps it was just Atlas getting paranoid in the dark; perhaps it was just Abyss Walker taking its toll on them.

Or perhaps the young woman before him held some very dark secrets in her hands.

"To answer your remaining questions," Valentine said briskly, "we are in a rather nice restaurant in the Understreets of Aegis. It doesn't look like much, but I assure you that their food is extraordinary. And as for what we are doing," The hint of a confident smirk returned to his features as he spoke next.

"Letitia Gazelle de Argentum, you and I are going to bring peace to this world."

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Letitia watched as he wrapped her arm, trying very hard not to show signs of pain. She knew it didn't really matter if she kept hiding it or not... everyone knew broken bones hurt very much, but she was stronger than that. Training had done her good; she knew the bone would heal fast and strong again. It was just the most inconvenient time for her to break it.

She listened to him explain his and his team's actions and found herself slightly incensed at the thought of them MEANING to hurt people. Then again she had been a part of the killing and there were still specks of blood on her red coat. Thankfully they blended in and no one took extra notice of her. Her stomach rumbled ever so lightly, reminding her she had been denied her lunch. She ignored it.

"An anti-tank missile most certainly would be an apt cause of death," she couldn't help but smile at how extreme that sounded. Admittedly though, that would buy them some time to lay out plans. Hell that would actually benefit her greatly in the scheme of things. Getting away to check on her lab was getting harder and harder the more responsibility she ended up with... This would make it much easier if only for a small amount of time. "You're doing me a bit of a favor here. If you hadn't killed me within the next few weeks I would have killed myself once my company was set up. You're just the first to get a hold of me for my... wares, so to speak."

It'd be a lie to say she was a normal girl. Her grandfather had trained her well in the art of combat and solitude. Her body was built to take a beating. It also helped that her mother had been highly trained in the military running Sentinels for the government, another main reason the de Argentum had kept military support for a while; the men had a habit of marrying women that would be of a benefit to them. Her mother was a General's daughter.

"-and a Knight."

That sparked her interest and she studied him for a moment. She had only heard stories of the Knights before but she knew the legends well. Within her labs were a plethora of Old World books and knowledge, her pride and joy. She had never met anyone strong or brave enough to be able to fight a Reaper, then again her contact with live Reapers was in the single digits.

She listened to his proposal, weighing her options. So far she was already pretty deep in trouble. Her family most likely thought she was dead, she herself wanted to be "dead" for the sake of her own projects, and they had a live Reaper in their clutches. Not only would that make her goals much easier to achieve... but perhaps just MAYBE they would be able to help her figure out what was wrong with her Reaper.

His final statement said in full confidence, smirk and all, surprised her and excited her greatly. Someone who might actually be able to help her dreams come to light, more than that someone who might be able to make her grandfather's dreams come to life? This was the chance of a lifetime.

"You chose very smartly when coming to me. I have a lot of resources at my fingertips that have been squirreled away over the years. My grandfather was a man that believed in causes such as these and also squirreled away years worth of fail research and money," she leaned forward a bit, her arm in less pain now that it was bound properly. It was true; she had money that was off the grid, a personal network that was nearly city wide and completely unable to be hacked into because of the ancient technology she had spent most of her teen years gathering, and even weapons and ammo stored in case of a revolution. "I'm going to assume that was your men confirming their position? I'm also going to assume they're getting strange readings and outputs from the labs... I think it's best we meet and I take you down there myself."

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Valentine was, once again, impressed by how perceptive she was of the nature of his operation. He was beginning to suspect that she'd been involved in more than a few military operations herself. He picked up a cunning, almost animal vibe from her - an eagerness for change, and a canniness to accomplish it.

The only remaining question was how much she'd be willing to sacrifice for the sake of that 'greater good' she believed in.

"Correct," Valentine said, as a waitress came to their table with two bowls of noodles. He picked up a pair of chopsticks, but struggled with the noodles for a few minutes - his skills were rather lacking. Nevertheless, pride barred him from asking for a fork, however great the embarrassment he suffered from being unable to effectively wield his chopsticks.

"Nevertheless, we should eat first. My men will be more than capable of securing the area. And perhaps unlike yours," he challenged, "we know how to deal with what you've got wrapped up in there."

A risky gamble, but if he was right - and if he'd caught her out - he'd be able to wring far more information out of her than she would have otherwise wanted to give him. Still, a part of him hoped he wasn't - because if he and Atlas were right, she was in much deeper than she knew.

He wondered if she'd conducted a contact experiment yet. Looking at her, he doubted it - he didn't see the telltale nubs of neural interfaces along her spine, and she still had some level of life, of naïveté in her. For a moment, he felt it his responsibility to care for her - to protect her from that abomination.

Nobody deserved what came with being a Knight.

Not even him.

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Letitia struggled to use her chopsticks with the hand she wasn't used to working with. It looked hilarious to an outsider as she fought with her chopsticks in order to eat. She relaxed against the booth letting herself chill out for a few seconds. "I know how to deal with everything I have wrapped up in there. A lot of REALLY old technology," she growled in frustration at her own inability to use her good hand and eat her food. "I found an entire mainframe system in the ruins of a compound when I was 15. It's the basis for my entire personal network. Too old for even new technology to hack into. You know, you'd figure with them growing technology over the years they would have figured out some of the basis of the older technology."

She knew that he was testing her. She could hear the challenge in his tone and she merely gave him a vague smile. She wasn't about to give her secret up yet though... She hadn't tried to contact with the Reaper yet. It had been firmly sleeping since she had found it 7 years ago. She found herself finishing her food quickly, her concern for her labs growing. "I need to get down there..." she murmured finally, ready to leave already. Her impatience was growing to know the status of her Reaper and her labs.

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Hm. A guarded response, followed by attempting to redirect his concern to other matters. Whatever her relative level of prowess in battlefield leadership, she was certainly a crafty politician. In a way, it was gratifying to finally meet a politician who worked for the greater good, instead of for personal power.

Finishing his food - albeit somewhat ungracefully - Valentine let the chopsticks clatter into the bowl, gratified at having vanquished his meal without dropping anything on himself (although an errant noodle hanging off the edge of the table presented an alarming threat). As usual, it had been filling and savoury; simplistic in nature, but with enough different spices crammed in to make it an interesting meal.

"We're just walking through the scraps of the world now, grabbing whatever little we can and praying that we someday understand it," Valentine exhaled contemplatively. "Although speaking from experience, some of the things the Old World left behind are better left unknown."

He'd no doubt that she had something in there, something terrible - almost certainly a Reaper, but possibly something else. A naked Entity would certainly be a sight to see, albeit one only seen for the matter of instants before it awoke and annihilated every soul within thousands of miles. At any rate, he determined that it were better left unknown.

"First things first, my group needs supplies," Valentine said, pushing himself to his feet as Letitia finished. "We're running low on ammunition and need heavy repairs for our unit of Sentinels. Additionally, our Reaper is in need of some specialist equipment - mostly high-tech ammunition, although some more esoteric parts are also in order."

He contemplated the idea of cannibalising her Reaper, if it truly existed. On one hand, if it were unconscious for such a length of time, it might well have starved itself to death. On the other hand, cannibalising the RELICS system off a living Reaper... well, nobody was quite that stupid. He would have to inspect it himself to determine its nature. Regardless, however, he doubted that Letitia would allow her weapon to go quite so easily, whatever its status.

"As I was saying, we require your assistance. Assuming our aid in your cause, how quickly could we be provided with supplies? Theoretically, of course."