Psychological Clinic.
Elysium
Lighting plays a suggestive role in psychological counseling, which is why the clinic maintains carefully calibrated illumination, both day and night.
Today, however, the office lies in darkness.
John reclines in his soft chair, eyes closed, surrendering to the dark reverie. Most people are drawn to light by biological instinct—a trait that makes someone like him, who cherishes the shadows, a stark contrast.
He opens his eyes, his gaze settling on the decorative vessel on the table.
It holds clear water, a canvas for his psychological suggestions. Depending on his visitor, he adds a different colored dye.
In his collection, one vial has never been used: the black one.
Now, he breaks its seal and pours the ink-dark dye into the water without hesitation. Clarity vanishes, swallowed in an instant by a spreading darkness that merges with the shadows in the room—and with him.
So, Abel... has your lifelong ambition finally been realized?
Shut up... You really think you're Cain?
Hah, that remains to be seen.
After all, between the two of us, it seems only one is fit to survive.
Enough. The attempt on Hassen's life failed. It's time to initiate the contingency.
I don't know why the Wheel of Fortune is interested in F.O.S., but as long as it doesn't hinder our acquisition of Gestalt, they are irrelevant.
You need not lecture me. I am already aware.
He slips his fingertips into the water, watching the black dye bleed into his skin.
Henceforth, I shall be remade. This flawed and ugly flesh is a shell I cast aside. Yan Zhen is no more.
Streams of data and garbled code cascade over his body, enveloping him completely.
I alone remain. Only John Doe endures.
I am the green-eyed demon. I am the Sixth Sin. I am John Doe. I am—
With a gentle wave of his right hand, John Doe unravels the fabric of space, weaving a portal from shimmering data code.
Stepping into the void, he emerges a moment later onto the rooftop.
The Ascension-Network has granted me rebirth. I shall repay its generosity in kind.
His hands dance through the void as if playing an invisible piano. With every phantom keystroke, several Corrupted materialize on the distant streets.
Elysium shall be our stepping stone to Gestalt.
Below, the constellation of city lights bleeds into a solid, ominous crimson.
And then... this entire world will become shadows, just like us. A carnival of darkness awaits.
What the hell is your plan, Moineau?!
Teddy and Moore manage to block Moineau's attacks together, but the fight remains a stalemate. Elysium is Moineau's domain; as long as the battlefield remains here, she holds an overwhelming advantage.
Why do you have to know the answer, Teddy?!
All you need to do is stay in Elysium until this is over!
Don't you still hate that cage with every fiber of your being?
So you are planning to destroy Babylonia?!
Between attacks, Teddy tries to probe Moineau's true intentions with her words.
I only care about Elysium.
"You only care about Elysium."
Then who's your partner? The one actually plotting against Babylonia?
This time, Moineau doesn't answer. Instead, she silently increases the rate of fire from her drones.
Suddenly, Teddy recalls her previous conversation with Hassen.
Let's be clear: I'm not looking to get entangled in your schemes. I just do my job.
In a flash of insight, Teddy sees all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
(Heh. So I've been a pawn in this from the very beginning.)
(Once this is over, I'm billing them for every single credit.)
Teddy twists sideways to avoid a beam fired from a drone while Moore lunges forward, swinging his blade at Moineau, only to be blocked by two drones crossing in a defensive formation.
The attack fails, and Moore falls back to Teddy's side.
This fight between us is pointless—
▆▅▄▇—!!!!
A piercing scream shatters the standoff. As one, the three turn to see a crimson glow blooming in the distance, its surface seething with countless blood-red specks.
The city's artificial silence is ripped away as sleeping residents awaken and flee. Elysium is suddenly overrun with the Corrupted. A red tide drowns the neon lights, transforming downtown into a hunting ground as the city's edges begin to crumble.
?!
The nightmare they overlooked has emerged from the shadows. The truth is now clear: it was never a revolt of machines, but the relentless scourge of the Punishing Virus. It has always been the Corrupted.
Now of all times...
You're not with those Corrupted?!
To control the Punishing and the Corrupted... that would require at least...
An Ascendant.
A strange voice echoes from nearby, snapping their attention to its source. From a dark hole—a pitch-black void streaming with data—a figure materializes. It is cloaked in cyan flames and possesses a body of pure, mechanical structure.
Hah... What did I say? A hacker showdown.
The Ascendant turns to Moore.
It's been a while, Inspector.
?!
Oh, but perhaps you'd recognize this form better.
A torrent of data and garbled code cascades over the Ascendant, and within the digital deluge, his form contorts into the familiar form of John, the psychologist.
...John!
Moore growls the name through clenched teeth, his voice thick with fury, but in the next instant, the Ascendant vanishes from their sight.
!!!
A tremendous force slams into Moore from behind, catapulting him through the air. He tumbles, a ragdoll against the hard ground, before skidding to a halt.
That speed... No, it's not just speed.
He's hacked our visual feeds!
Moineau. The plan to assassinate Hassen has failed.
The sudden announcement catches everyone present off guard.
So this is what you've been plotting...
What have you done to my father?!
The Ascendant's gaze slides past Teddy and locks onto Moineau.
Yan Zhen...
His form shifts again, and he looks up at Moineau from a wheelchair.
Moineau... help me...
You!!
The Ascendant's true form reasserts itself, and he offers a sneer of pure derision.
Yan Zhen is no more. There is only John Doe!
With a roar of rage, Moineau charges toward the Ascendant, her drones flaring at maximum power. A storm of virus programs and energy beams converges into a single, furious assault.
But the Ascendant effortlessly neutralizes it.
How do you also have...
Elysium's security clearance? Wondering that, are we?
Ignoring her question completely, the Ascendant transforms, his form dissolving into the swirling data streams only to re-coalesce as a perfect copy of Moineau.
This might be a nice form to play this game in. The Unwinged, isn't it...
Then you can call me The Pseudo-Unwinged.
Moore rushes into the fray, but after a few brief exchanges, he is brutally driven back.
You're merely a walking corpse. Your very existence is only possible because of my creation.
?!
Not only are you ungrateful, but you dare to raise a blade against your creator? Pathetic.
Outside this world, you are nothing but a cold, lifeless body!
Just cut the crap.
With fluid precision, Teddy parries the Ascendant's attacks, her composure a cold, unbreachable wall against his taunts.
Oh, and you... still curious about what's happening in Babylonia?
I've lifted the information blackout. See for yourself.
Instantly, Teddy registers the cacophony: a flood of alarm sirens and panicked comms traffic. This is the reality of Babylonia's current state.
WARNING. Orbital height fluctuation...
WARNING. High concentration of Punishing Virus detected.
Please proceed immediately to the nearest evacuation vessel.
WARNING. Babylonia's main propulsion engines have been locked down.
How is this possible...
In the heart of that frozen moment, the Ascendant rematerializes behind Teddy. With a single, brutal thrust, his arm erupts from her chest.
TEDDY!!
