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spaceiplier · 3 years

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The Final Chapter

“They’re all in,” Mark said, sitting at Sean’s cramped table. Full of holo-screens, piled with empty food trays, and overflowing with extra parts. Sean had been awake far longer than he should have been. Fiddling with his ship as he made sure every piece was working. Making sure every compartment was ready. Mark picked up a holo-screen, looking at the schematic of the prison they were about to break into. “All of them. Felix has the weapons on the way to those who asked for them.”

“Good, good,” Sean muttered, lost in a holo-screen of his own.

Mark didn’t bother continuing the conversation. Sean wasn’t who he had been a year ago.

None of them were.

It was hard to accept the fact that the friend he once had would never be the same person whose pain had come from himself and the history of others. This person carried pain they could not shake now. Watching him work, Mark saw the scars and shadows under his eyes. The twitching fingers inches from a knife.

This was a man that wouldn’t come back because he didn’t want to. He wanted his pain, and Mark couldn’t stop him from reopening that scar over and over again.

Chase came by, dropping off drinks for both of them. He smiled quietly before moving on. Sean had reactivated the robots. Mark suspected it was mostly out of respect for Mark’s continued stay on his ship rather than Sean’s want for companionship or help. The robots continued to do their jobs like nothing had happened. They probably didn’t even remember.

That is, except for Chase.

Chase had always been more android than robot. The androidic chip in his brain had always given him a few odd tics. The depression. The empathy. The fear and the anger. He wasn’t all the way there, of course. Despite the one chip, he was still a robot. But there was a spark there that made those who met him take a second look.

Mark shook his head. Chase cared about Sean in a way that Sean would never accept. It was a stagnant circle that neither could - or would - break from.

“Is Earth with us?” Sean asked, his voice half muffled from the scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face.

“Yeah,” Mark said. “Turns out, Earth tech is very old. One virus can cause malfunctions everywhere in the Bubble Cities, and it’s not hard to install, even from the ground.”

“Good,” Sean said. “That makes sixteen.”

“Eighteen,” Mark said, sending over two files from his holo-screen. “Opreneam and Cupressa. We helped evacuate with a fire there and they remembered my team.”

“Right,” Sean said, eyes flitting up to meet Mark’s for a split second. “You sure did get around with those heroics.”

“I tried to help.”

“You did. And then you tried too hard.”

Mark scowled. “He was using my face. He was a criminal. I had no reason not to trust my government.”

“See, that’s your problem,” Sean scoffed. “You trust things that nobody in their goddamn right mind should trust. A government? Please, Mark. Government 101: they don’t give a left piss about you. They care about the power they hold, and how to keep holding it. Sure, they’ll spend a few billion credits to create a free market on Holve. They’ll come and speak flowery words to the citizens of Is’vandran. But at the end of the day they will take a good man and turn him into a head on a pike to save the seat they sit in.”

Mark was silent.

“Do you know what Kivlithos offered me? His last words before I ripped his heart out?”

Mark shook his head.

“He offered me what he thought was everything. Power. Money. This is what they thought was enough to replace you.”

There was a sharp CRACK as Sean’s claws pierced the holo-screen, cracks spreading as the screen glitched. His eye in turn flashed red for a moment where Mark’s heart skipped.

“This galaxy is run by more men like him that see life in numbers. Maybe learn to trust a little less when the man decorated in awards he didn’t earn tells you to throw yourself on the sword.”

Sean stood and left.

Mark stared at the broken holo-screen left. The shattered remains of what Sean had been looking at.

The pixelated face of a Korop stared back, a headline barely reading: Former GAAP archivist, Robin Torkar, Found Guilty of Treason.

Loneliness was an emotion foreign to Madapriel. He had never understood it. It was a idiotic to feel negative just because there was no other living things nearby. Xanhulls were inherently a lonely species. From an orb to life to death, Xanhulls spent it alone. Life partners were considered luxuries. What was important was tradition, and the work before them. Loneliness was an emotion Madapriel had never even thought about understanding.

But the face of Wilford as he read the report, detailing the death of his friends, had done the impossible. Madapriel chuckled quietly. Wilford did seem to find that to be his specialty. Finding what reality would not allow and shaping it to his will.

Even the look in his eyes as he had looked up had changed the will of someone equal to his power. The shake in his hands had taken a fact known solid for eons, and turned it on its head.

Madapriel in that one moment had understood loneliness, and it haunted him.

He shook his head. Hands tangled in Google’s cords and systems, he didn’t have time to reflect on what he’d seen over a week ago. Wilford was gone. Left on his dead planet like he had asked to be. Madapriel had the future to attend to. A Finality to perfect, and a machine to push just over the edge.

“What a silly creature,” Madapriel muttered.

Wilford had been useful beyond Madapriel’s expectations, but at the end of the line he was just that. A weapon. At least the weapon had found the detective. Maybe that would soften the blow.

“What am I thinking,” Madapriel said, pausing as he stared at his hands. “He is gone. His existence has no more importance to me.”

The loneliness in Wilford’s eyes remained in Madapriel’s head. He surely had done this to himself. A flaw in the plan. Finding the one creature in existence that understood what it was like to lose everything, and understanding the pain in his heart.

“A killer with a heart,” Madapriel quietly said, backing away from the nearly reassembled robot hanging before him. “How unfortunate.”

The robot didn’t answer. It slept for now, and he smiled as he turned the diligent machine into something even more dangerous than before.

Amy Nelson knew what a cornered animal looked like far too well. The darting eyes and shifting dance of feet. Teeth bared in warning and hackles raised. A creature who knew they had nowhere else to run, and that they were afforded only two choices in this trap: fight or die.

She knew the look far too well. The stench of fear and the laughter of fools. She had been told she would be safe on that hunt. There were others to protect her. A little beast was nothing to worry about once it was dead. Amy had believed them, staring with wide eyes at the animal that made a choice found naturally. There hadn’t been fear.

Not until the moment she looked into its eyes.

Like every cornered animal, they chose one last fight. Lunging, ripping, tearing. Escape was preferred. Harming those whose hands would wring the life from your neck was optimal. The yells and gunfire rang in the small ears of Amy. The blood spatter, the mingling screams of animals and humans, and her own tiny fear. It was a memory she knew so well.

Knew as well as the phantom pain where her arm had been torn to shreds, and where her eye had been gouged out.

Her arm ached as she rubbed the stiff prosthetic. Her dark eyes watched as Wade stalked the doorway, and she saw that animal in him. He was scared and his back was against the wall. The fingers tapping, the eyes darting. As well as she knew pain, he knew there were two choices left once they stepped outside that cell, and it was fight or die.

“Are you okay?” she asked, voice low and hoarse from too much time spent alone.

“I honestly don’t know if I’m going to ever answer that with a yes again.” Wade’s pacing stopped for a moment, sighing as he rubbed his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. This is just insane. A year ago I had a good job. My wife was happy, we were going to adopt two dogs, my life was taking off. Next thing you know my childhood friend is dead and I’m here trying to break his friends out of the most secure prison in the galaxy.”

Amy watched as he leaned around the corner, making sure nobody was coming before looking back at her. Wade was a good man. Something Mark had been. She could see how they’d grown up together at the Academy. Those traces of memories together making the men they’d turned into. They were both trying to do the best for a universe that was full of so much dark.

They never gave up, though.

“It’s too much,” Wade said.

Amy almost laughed. Of course it was too much. She leaned forwards, arms resting on her knees, “You thinking about giving up?”

“Of course,” Wade answered.

“But you’re not going to.”

“No,” Wade said, looking back at Amy with that dangerous look in his eyes. The cornered animal.“We’re getting everyone out.”

Amy nodded. “Okay then.”

Ethan. Tyler. Kathryn. This was for them. They were everyone Amy cared about. They didn’t deserve to sit in prison for the rest of their lives. Amy wouldn’t let that happen.

Even if it killed her, she was getting them out.

Fight and die.

A series of numbers.

01000001 01101100 01101111 01101110 01100101 00001010.

A series of numbers.

01010111 01100001 01110100 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111.

A series of numbers.

01001100 01100101 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111.

A series of numbers.

01000011 01101111 01110010 01110010 01110101 01110000 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111.

A series of numbers. They know what he must do.

His eyes lit up. The darkness turned to a vision of the man who had taken him in. Made him better. Set him free. They met the red and blue. The look of determination and stubborn rage.

A series of numbers told him his final mission.

01001011 01101001 01101100 01101100 00001010.

Mark scratched behind Chica’s ears. The goop squished between his fingers as she melted in his hands. People didn’t deserve dogs in any form they came in, Mark thought. Henry was in the corner of the room Felix had lent to them, curled up in a peanut. He still asked for Amy. It still hurt every time Mark said she wasn’t home yet.

Once his memories had returned Mark hadn’t been able to get the faces of his friends off his mind.

All he could think of was them. But mingling with them were faces he didn’t know. Faces of Xanhulls from memories he didn’t own. The faces of half-Xanhulls from files. The faces of androids hiding on distant planets.

When Mark had run away he had wanted to find some reason to exist. An outlet for whatever was itching under his skin. Clear as day he could remember sitting in his dorm room, angry and frustrated that what he wanted wasn’t here. He had left, knowing that pain was better than stagnation. He’d found his outlet in helping people, in a ship called the Barrel with friends and stars.

He helped people.

Sitting here was utterly reminiscent of a cramped dorm room and a helpless longing to help people he couldn’t reach. Not yet.

He would though. If there was one thing Mark was, it was stubborn.

“Hey.”

Mark looked up. It was Mika, the android they’d recruited on the Grump ship. Her robotic dog sat at her feet, watching him. She jerked her head to the side, arms folded as she gestured down the hall.

“Everything is ready. We’re heading out soon.”

“Thanks,” Mark said, standing. He bid the dogs to stay, leaving as quietly as he’d come. A ghost, now and forever, leaving rooms he could only haunt.

“You ready for this?” Mika asked, falling into step beside him.

“Are you?”

She shrugged. “This is a big job to ask of me, dead guy. It’s a big job to ask of anyone. Our galaxy is falling apart. Our government doesn’t care, and hasn’t for a while now. What we leave behind after this is going to decide the fate of billions.”

“A lot of pressure for a merc.”

She laughed. “We aren’t so different. Don’t think I don’t have my own reasons beyond a simple payday.”

As Mark glanced over, Mika pulled up her sleeve, showing her forearm. It was a mess of welded lines, hastily cut across some brand melted into her. No synthetic appearance of something not metal. A segmented arm disrupted with a welders knife. Mark didn’t need to see it to know what it was. He’d seen it on the androids on Opreneam. He’d seen those simple designs on older android models.

“I was made three years after the android rebellion was officially declared won,” Mika said, rolling the sleeve down to cover the mared arm. “But as we all know, those were empty words. Wars don’t just stop.”

“Where were you?”

“Doesn’t matter. It happened,” Mika said with a tightness to her voice that betrayed her calm demeanor. “I was made for underwater rescue. Makes it easy for objects like me to get damaged and lost. Turns me into salvaged junk. They pulled me out, barely a hunk of metal, branded me as a runaway, and tried to collect their bounty. Turns out pirates have more morals than the ones we were told to trust.”

Mark thought back to Sean’s anger. He shuddered.

“When they welcomed me aboard their ship like I was a person - not just some machine made to be used and discarded - I decided then and there,” Mika faced Mark with a look that could turn you to stone. “I would save anyone like me from them. And from what I’ve heard, you have a friend just like me.”

“Ethan,” Mark confirmed.

“Ethan,” she repeated, trying it out on her voice box. She smiled. “I like it. How about we let the GAAP know we aren’t just their toys any longer?”

Mark smiled grimly. “Sounds like a good plan.”

The two entered the room to see Felix surrounded by holo-screens, making sure every piece was falling into place. Marzia stood by, Maya in her arms as she watched the chaos around her. Sean and Gab stood off in a corner, comparing notes. A few allies from his lifetime were scattered about, others on screens talking rapidly to each other. It was surreal, seeing all of this come together in a way he had never expected.

It was even more surreal when the room went dead silent. Every eye on him. Mark froze in the doorway, unsure whose eyes to meet. They were all staring with shock. Fear. Surprise. Relief. Joy. Mark felt his skin crawl under the attention.

Last time anyone had really seen him he had been dead. Now here he was. A ghost.

“Alright, alright,” Felix said loudly, breaking through the frozen silence. “We’ve got work to do. Get back to it.”

The noise resumed. Mark walked through, ignoring the stolen glances. Someone brushed against him and he flinched. Still so thin and weak from a year of barely clinging to life, Mark didn’t doubt any one of these people could kill him for good. He was slowly building himself back up, grateful that his normal state of being was muscled and strong. It was slow, though. Too slow. He hated feeling so small and defenseless.

He was the one who protected. He didn’t want to be the one who stood behind. That choice had been taken from him. Mark clenched his fists. He was taking it back.

“What’s our timeline?” Mark asked, walking up to Marzia. She glanced at him before refocusing on the crowds around her. Maya yipped at him, and he scratched behind her ears. Even robot dogs were too good.

“Tomorrow,” Marzia said. “Nihill still needs some more time to come on our side, but they can be persuaded.”

“You are a very scary person.”

She smiled.

Mark looked over at Sean and Gab. The strange, scaly, cat-like creature had since abandoned Gab and moved to Sean, wrapped around his shoulders and glaring at anyone who got too close. Sean was frozen still, still talking with her but wary of disturbing the animal near his jugular.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?”

Mark glanced back at Marzia, whose gaze he saw was directed where he was looking. “What is?”

“How life will change, but shadows of the past are always there, keeping us exactly as we were.”

Maya snorted.

“Make sure your team is ready,” Marzia said, meeting his eyes and chuckling at his confusion. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

How entirely empty the universe is. Vast space between the now and the then. Dead stars shining as bright as the day they were born in some far distant reach. Empty holes slowly creating life. Everything doomed to die, but the walk was long and steady. Was it eternity? Or empty thoughts that kept the everyday man from the fear of the end? A knowledge that after this life would come another, and another, and another. Or perhaps it was just desperation. Holding onto the stolen ticking moments.

PJ sat in a near empty room on his ship, windows on every wall looking out to billions upon billions of stars. The piano his fingers danced over played a tune in time with the blinking of stars. Stars being born. Life being created and destroyed in seconds as he watched through eyes that had seen more than yesterday. His thoughts drifted between faces. A man who cheated death. A man who lived through death. The two faces, so poetically similar, would shape tomorrow. A day his eyes had yet to see, but somehow already had.

One, two, three.

Moments passing. Stars dying. A woman pacing her cage. An intelligence poised for a final song. A man drifting away and away, fingers barely clinging to a past.

Four, five, six.

It was strange, PJ thought. A story coming to an end. There was no end. It would continue on after all had been said and done. A life did not just end, and neither did a story. Ripples cascading through every life it touched, no matter how small. The twinge of desperation of an empty story. Empty life. Too many pages wasted. Too many words left unsaid.

The empty lines between the words was where he found the most words. The empty space. A final chapter in a star still burning. Would they come back? Flip through the pages of memories? He didn’t know. PJ only watched, skipping through the lives he found stories in. His hand could be held. His eyes could be gouged out. But nobody had. A story wanted to be read.

Seven, eight, nine.

It was nearly time. The spinning planets were nearly in place. Within a corrupted moon was a man with a heart expressed through struggle. A man who had seen death and known the time he’d had wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He needed more. And every moment was a step through broken glass towards a better future.

Something better.

A story traced with the designs of before. A practiced song sung a little better.

PJ smiled.

Ten.

To read and to laugh and to cry. Oh, what a story it had been.

“You cleaned up?”

Mark looked around Sean’s ship. It wasn’t spotless. Mark didn’t know if this ship had ever known true cleanliness. The stacks of garbage and the blood stains were gone, however. The loose parts and empty food trays were cleaned and put away. Sean rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah? So? It’s an important day, fuck off.”

“Are we ready to go?” Mika bounced up, Spencer hot on her heels. Dressed in all black, only her marred arm uncovered. She pulled down the half mask, leaving it dangling around her neck and pushed up the red-tinted goggles to her forehead. Behind her, Gab was dressed more like Sean. Rugged darker clothing with her tools attached to a belt and a bag looped across her chest. Mark did notice a familiar red scarf around her neck, the creature Mark now knew as BB curled along with it. Glancing over at Sean, a darker green had spread across his face as he stubbornly avoided Mark’s gaze.

Oh.

Marzia and Felix followed along after them, the two pugs diligently at their heels. Marzia was in her GAAP uniform, adjusting the cuffs as she walked, deep in conversation with Felix, whose veins were glowing. He was like a firefly in the dim corridor of Sean’s ship. Once he spotted Mark, Felix sped up with a final softly spoken word to Marzia. She watched him go, staying behind with a dark glint in her eyes.

“Everything is ready,” Sean said. “And with the upgrades from Felix, we should pass on all scanners as a GAAP delivery ship. Once we’re in range of visuals that will fail, but by that point nobody will be looking too closely at a small ship.”

“The chaos will be distracting enough. And since Nihill has fallen in line,” Felix said, arriving at the gathered group, “we have the power of GAAP officials on our side, whether they like it or not. Those bastards in the Floating City will be pissing themselves once my men are even halfway through with them.”

Mika smiled a shark-toothed grin.

“Marzia will be infiltrating the warden offices,” Felix said, “causing our chaos up there. Her credentials won’t hold up for long, so this needs to be done quickly and efficiently. Meanwhile” -- he cracked his knuckles, veins flaring with light -- “we will be wreaking our own havoc.”

“Are you sure you’re going with us?” Sean asked.

“My ties with this place have been doused in fuel for years,” Felix responded. “It’s about time I lit the flame.”

“Let’s get into place then,” Sean said, glancing down at his comm. “We’re fifteen out.”

The gathered beings scattered. Mika and Sean left to get suited up, talking routes and weak points on the way. Gab and Felix followed behind, quietly comparing technical notes. Mark watched them go, the hairs on the back of his neck standing as Marzia walked up behind him.

“Here,” she said, handing him a piece of black cloth and leather. Mark took it, looking it over.

“A mask?”

“Your return from death is still a secret,” she answered. “It’s safer for you and everyone else you care about if you stay dead. If they know half-Xanhulls can cheat death then that will make everything that comes after this much harder.”

Mark pulled the mask over his face. It hugged him, allowing for ventilation but obscuring his features without slipping. She was right. If the GAAP knew half Xanhulls had regenerative abilities that could be encouraged back from death, no matter how hard it was, they would hunt them down even more. Hurt them more. Destroy everything Mark and Madapriel were fighting for.

“Where are you going after this?” Mark asked, his voice shifted. Not his own. The mask must have a voice mod inside.

Marzia smiled, petting Maya’s fur. “Felix has been transporting much of his business into resources. There will be a collapse soon, and we are preparing to save what we can. The GAAP will fall, but there needs to be something after it. Don’t worry,” she said at Mark’s expression of distrust. “We won’t be taking over any governing positions. Someone else can have that mess. There is still a profit to be made in the struggle afterwards.”

“That sounds slimy under the pretty words,” Mark said.

She laughed. “You saved Madapriel. A man who has killed hundreds, and will continue to manipulate and use the people around him to obtain what he wants. But what he wants is good. His goals will benefit people who are hurting, and have exposed corruption. Slime can be pretty, my friend.”

Mark didn’t respond. Just watched as she walked towards the cockpit. As she reached it she looked back, raising an eyebrow.

“You coming?”

He followed.

The lines had been blurred. Mark wasn’t sure which side he was walking on anymore, if there even had been a line in the first place. All he could do now was try. Try and be someone better. Try and make his galaxy a little better.

Taking a seat in the pilot's chair, Mark looked out at the dark space before him. In the distance he could see the massive form of the Central Prison; a series of asteroids orbited the station, drawn in by its gravity. His fingers tapped out a rhythm across the controls, steering them steadily closer. Marzia stood behind him. Watching. Waiting.

The call came in. A GAAP official asked who they were. Marzia responded, and they were let go. Free to enter. Just like that, they were in. It seemed too easy. It was too easy, and Marzia knew that as well. The two met eyes and shared a worry.

Something was already off.

“Send out the flare,” Mark said, focusing back on the prison. “Make a mess.”

Finality was dangerous. Stagnation and a truth that this life was the last. It was why Xanhull didn't dare attempt to take a permanent form. Mayhaps some vain knowledge that they owned immortality, as fragile as it was, kept them from taking the strength in one life. Madapriel had been raised on the stories of the heroes before who had taken Finality. Those who had made the sacrifice to protect and lead.

He had never dreamed he would follow them.

Madapriel had understood that his place in this universe had been to unite. To travel and understand all those species around him. To fall into their ways of living, and unite them under the banner of the GAAP. He had served the burgeoning government well. Perhaps pride had always taken a dark spot in his heart, but he did what he knew well. He had understood.

Right up until he watched his planet choke and die.

Understanding… the core principle of a Xanhull. Madapriel shook his head, staring down at the vials in his hands. The glowing red and blue of a species without a name. The soft gold of the Niokonge. A crushed Velm eye. The curly hair of the half-Celestial. His own dark blood, borrowed from a human who shared his kind.

Did he understand where he came from? Who he was? Who these people were? He’d killed for this blood. He’d bartered for this DNA. He’d taken and fallen and saved for this chance. There were lives behind the chance to become something dangerous. Did he understand?

He shook his head.

Of course he didn’t. Mark had taught him that. Throughout that stubborn will of his, Mark had shown Madapriel that he had failed in every way to honor those who had fallen behind him. So angry… so focused on the loss and the stolen that he’d ignored what he had left.

There were many half-Xanhull out there. Many of his own Xanhull siblings remained in hiding. He understood them, and he would lead them somewhere safe.

“Are you ready?”

Madapriel looked up at that stolen robot, a small smile on his face. He understood this one. “Yes.”

Google - transformed into something new and dangerous, just like Madapriel would be - stood before him with his hand reaching out. No longer frail and made in an image of a man it hated, Google stood as a weapon. Plates of good metal covered its body, blue and red and yellow and green. No longer with exposed joints and wiring and a face made to fit in, it was now sleek and designed for one mission. Its face was simply more plates with a camera eye in the center. A perfect creation.

A perfect final understanding.

The robot took the vials from Madapriel, placing each one into the special capsule. Each strand of DNA unraveled and reassembled. Dissolving. Rejoining. Creating something new.

Madapriel stepped inside and closed his eyes. The cover lowered over him, sealing him inside and sealing him to his fate. The crystal was sharp against his chest. Joining him. Changing him forever.

Life needed a bit of change, but Madapriel would stay forever to take back what was taken.

Finality.

It was cold.

“This just in, the Earth Bubble Cities have started to descend. All communication has been shut off, and drones have spotted armed riots forming on the surface of the planet--”

“--distress signals have been registered from Opreneam. All officials in the area are responding but none can seem to get near. Signals are interfering--”

“--and twelve more planets have found themselves under attack. The local GAAP representatives in the areas have taken shelter, but these protesters seem after their heads. There have been several sightings of the number 9 among the protesters, leading us to believe that the infamous Felix Kjellburg is behind--”

“--all personnel must report to the borders of the Outer Rim where an army of ships coming from the direction of Sceifarr, a rumored black market hangout of the criminals. They appear to be attacking all GAAP and GLE--”

“--representative Jemma Wuyal has reported protestors circling the moons--”

“All contact with Opreneam has been shut down with no warning--”

“--the GLE offices are on fire! We’re don’t have enough man power for this--”

“No demands have been made. There seems to be no reason behind the millions of sudden protests ranging across the galaxy targeting the GAAP and GLE. Representative Har’taln has issued emergency backup, but many in the surrounding areas are already spread thin--”

“All spare GLE are being pulled from Central in an attempt to provide aid to these planets under unexpected attack--”

“--who--there is someone--stop!--fuck, run! Run!--they headed for Central, someone--there isn’t--nobody left-- just stop him!--”

Gab flipped through the channels, checking off each planet reporting the protestors. More and more fighting back. More and more drawing attention and man power away from Central. That last one caught her attention however. It caught the attention of the android girl listening next to her. Mika’s head jerked up from her kits, a frown across her face.

“Nobody should be fighting in Central.”

“Hang on,” Gab rapidly typed, running her programs on the GLE comms for Central. Soon she found it, tapping into the stream of streams, commands, and noise. Her brow furrowed. Something or someone was walking towards the Capital. Nobody seemed to be able to stop them. Wait, there were two. One? No, two. A robot and a man it seemed. The noise was a cacophony of chaos and fear.

“I don’t think it’s one of ours,” Gab finally said.

“Then who is it?”

Gab opened her mouth to answer when the door opened. Mark, Sean, and Marzia entered. A mask covering Mark’s face from the bridge of his nose down. His eyes seemed more terrifying that way. The dull red burning everything it landed on.

“We’re docked, let’s go,” Marzia said, straightening her uniform.

Gab hesitated, a finger hovering over her comm.

“Fall back! It’s too strong, fall ba--”

She closed it.

Mark fidgeted with his jacket, tugging at the sleeves. Watching his team walk before him, he looked over at Mika who was holding a spare comm, listening to something. He fell back, falling into step with her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Listen.”

He took the comm. Holding it up to his ear, he heard the cries of GLE officers attempting to stop something… someone… a man with blue and red lines running from his eyes who glowed with power.

It was him.

Mark handed the comm back to Mika, a dark smile on his face. “Don’t worry about that. Stick to the plan.”

She gave him a scared and confused look, but he was already walking away.

“Aye! Amy!”

Amy stopped, nearly getting pushed over in the crowd of prisoners making their way back to their cells. The familiar black and white form of Yancy pushed his way through. He clawed his way towards her, shouting at and cussing out everyone in his way. She made her way towards the wall, out of the way of the crowd and waiting for him.

“What?” she asked once he reached her.

“Hold on one sec,” Yancy said, breathing heavily. “Too many fuckin’ people in this place.”

Amy watched the crowd as she waited. Faces she recognized. Too many she didn’t. After a year in Central Prison, Amy had learned the GAAP had a love of tossing whomever they didn’t like in this place. Sure, there were criminals in here, people that the government had decided didn’t deserve to see the light of a star ever again. But there were far too many people like Ethan and Tyler and Kathryn; people who’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“There are riots.”

Amy choked on her own breath. Coughing, she winced at Yancy. “What?!”

“Riots. Down on all them planets youses old flame used to visit, all those people he saved… well,” Yancy grinned. “Theys is fightin’ back.”

“Is that what this lockdown is about?”

“Yeah. Once the warden gots the call he sends all those spare guards out to help. Leavin’ this place--”

“Vulnerable,” Amy finished, her own smile blooming. “Yancy, I need you to uphold your end of the deal. It’s time.”

“Gotcha, boss,” Yancy dug into his pockets, handed over a key card, then threw himself back into the crowd, resuming a steady and creative stream of swears.

Amy took off in the opposite direction, walking with purpose. Eyes focused ahead of her, she paid no mind to the people around her. She had one goal. Get to Ethan. Get to Tyler. Get to Kathryn. Get to Wade.

Get out.

The prison was formed into several sections, nicknamed by the prisoners: free-range, lockdown, asylum, and the shops. Amy had only been to two of the four sections in her year here, but she knew what each one was. She’d done her research. She’d talked to prisoners who’d been to each and every one.

Free-range was where she was. This was the largest area. Prisoners who weren’t deemed threats were allowed vast areas of the prison to roam, though still under heavy surveillance. These were often prisoners who only had a few years to their sentence; people who had committed nonviolent crimes. They had many areas open to walk, work out, and even had entertainment, as well as access to the shops.

The shops were the work areas. Cooking, laundry, mechanics, etc. Areas where you could take up a job to work off your sentence. Some prisoners elected to live in the shops, a small area partitioned off for those who chose that life. Many of them were androids. Ethan had elected to live there. At first he had been with Amy in free-range, but they needed someone in the shops. Someone with access to the tools.

Besides, Amy suspected Ethan needed something to distract him from all of this.

Asylum and lockdown had the heaviest security. Amy hadn’t even been near those areas, but she knew what they were. Asylum was the area of the prison for those deemed “criminally insane”. Lockdown was for the worst of the worst. For those who were too strong, or too influential. Yancy had taken a stint there for a few months. Oh the stories he could tell, he’d said. Criminals that would make your nightmares seem like dreams. Beings whose words could bring about the end of worlds.

Amy didn’t know how much she believed him, but she did know that she had to get there. The last two were there. Kathryn and Tyler, who were too full of rage to stand down. Locked up in lonely cells where they couldn’t crush their way through walls. Places where they couldn’t rip and tear.

The keycard Yancy had given her let her into this final area, the windows looking out on beautiful stars and galaxies turning into solid walls of unforgiving steel.

She gave it one last look before the doors closed behind her.

She wished Mark could have seen the stars one last time.

The ship docked with the prison. Marzia stood at the entrance, her flickering hands clasped behind her back, Maya at her feet. As the door opened a smaller prison guard stood there, eyes more focused on a holo-board in his hands.

“I’m sorry, but who allowed you in? There is no cargo scheduled for this week and we are on lockdow-”

The word never had a chance to finish as Marzia grabbed the sides of his head. With a sharp twist, there was a sickening crack as the neck snapped and the guard crumpled. Mark flinched. He didn’t say anything as Marzia glanced back at him.

She smiled.

“Let’s go,” Felix said, pushing his way forwards. Stopping momentarily to kiss Marzia’s cheek, he strode into the access room, closely followed by Sean, Gab, and Mika. The four of them quickly and quietly left into the hallways, heading in their respective ways. Marzia straightened her jacket, eyes still on Mark.

“You coming?”

Now that he was here, Mark felt something that had been killed rise up in him again.

Anger. Fear. Dread.

He’d died here.

“Let’s go.” He pushed his way past her. His voice not his own. His eyes glowing red. The lines hidden under the dark clothing itching like they had all those years ago. Itching under the thin layer of skin on his palms, begging for a fight.

He was different from the man who had died here.

Mark didn’t know if he missed that version of himself.

Marzia and Mark walked together, her quick and confident steps pulling her ahead of him. She knew this place and all the paths to keep them away from eyes. Central Prison was huge. It didn’t take long for Mark to forget where he’d come from.

Turns and twists and elevator rides up and up. They’d passed a few guards. They didn’t pay them much attention. Too focused on locking the place down. Too few of them there to realize they didn’t belong. If you walked like you belonged, then you did.

Only one was too smart for their own good.

Marzia took care of them.

“Here we go,” Marzia said as they reached yet another elevator. Stepping inside, she hit a button only labeled with a golden W.

Nothing happened for a moment. Marzia glanced down at her comm.

“Hurry up, Gab.”

The button glowed and a soft beep sounded. The doors closed, and the ride up started. The two positioned themselves. Marzia in the front, Mark in the back.

“What was death like?”

Mark stared at the back of Marzia’s head. Her tail swished, hands still clasped behind her back and her robotic dog at her feet. Ever the same. Standing still and watching. Waiting.

“Cold,” Mark said. “I don’t really know how to describe it. I was gone and there was nothing, and then I was back on the edge of the nothing and that was worse. There was too much on the edge. Nightmares and… fuck, I don’t know how to say what it was like.”

He stared at his hands that used to be scarred.

“When you’re dead that’s it. You’re gone. But when you’re on the edge of death you’re fighting to stay there. Like hanging off a cliff. Fingers grabbing at any ledge. Any chance to stay there and not fall. I was hanging for months. So fucking close to death. Falling a few times, but Madapriel was always there to drag me back. It sucked.”

Marzia turned slightly. Not enough to face him, but enough to see her clenched jaw.

“Sounds terrifying.”

“It was.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by quiet beeps as the elevator moved up and up.

Then Marzia turned, meeting his eyes.

“You changed, Mark. I don’t mean just physically. Your eyes and your body and all of that… that’s obvious. You don’t look the same. But you act more like him, and I don’t know how to tell you this properly but…” She shifted, her face disappearing for a moment.

“I know,” Mark answered.

“Okay,” she turned back around. “I just wanted to make sure.”

The elevator slowed, and with a final beep, the door opened.

It was noticeably different here. Before the halls had been blank and drab; an industrial building that was only there for function. A place that looked like what it was: a prison. This wasn’t that. Beautiful art decorated the walls. Wide windows showed an uninterrupted view of the stars beyond. Ornate furniture was placed about. A solid wooden desk sat in the back, a large leather chair behind. The room looked like it belonged in an Inner Circle apartment, expensive and lavish.

Too different from the prison below.

As Mark walked forward, he noticed a black and yellow orb on the desk, placed under a glass dome.

Heat bloomed in his hands.

There was a sound of running water from behind a closed door. Then it shut off and the door opened, a man walking out. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the two of them. Fear crossing his face, he stumbled for the comm on the desk.

He never got the chance.

Marzia was there in a heartbeat, wrenching his arm behind his back and hissing in his ear, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, warden.”

The man was a hachikan. Brilliant yellow and black markings, two wide solid black eyes, and a set of antenna protruding from his forehead. A pair of translucent and useless wings sat on his back, protruding from the holes in the GLE uniform. He trembled with fear, and Mark got the feeling this man wasn’t used to directly dealing with the terrifying beings below him.

“W-what do you want?” he squeaked, attempting to sound tougher than he was. “I-I-I will have you know that whomever you want will not make it out of his prison alive. Nobody has escaped in here--AHH!”

His words were cut off as Marzia twisted his arm. Not breaking it, but close.

She pulled him around to the front of the desk, facing it. Mark slowly walked around, keeping his eyes focused on the man. The warden - now noticing him - stared back in terror. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mark’s own, glowing red ones.

Mark reached the desk and sat in the lavish chair, folding his hands on the desk before him.

“Who are you?” the warden asked, his words barely a buzz.

“Just a ghost,” Mark said.

His distorted voice made the warden jump. “You… you are the one behind these riots. These terrorist attacks.”

Mark didn’t respond. Marzia let go of the warden and he stumbled, rubbing his arm as he slowly approached Mark. Twitching. Trembling.

Pathetic.

Mark blinked, taken aback by his own thoughts. He shook it off. He couldn’t lose focus now.

“Anything you want, I can get it for you,” the warden sniveled. “Money, perhaps? I have connections with people who can make that happen. Or power? A person of interest? I have many connections, I assure you. Or are you looking for revenge? I can arrange for a person to be taken into your custody.”

“Actually, you’re not far off,” Mark said, leaning forwards. The warden was on the edge of the desk, eyes lighting up. His life was saved, he believed. Mark wanted something he could give. “There are four prisoners in here. I need their cell numbers and locations, as well as a clear path to the docking bays.”

The warden swallowed. “O-of course.”

He slowly moved around the desk, opening up a screen. Marzia pulled out a gun and the warden squeaked. Gathering himself again, he looked at Mark.

“Their names, please.”

“Amy Nelson,” he recited. “Tyler Scheid. Ethan Nestor. Kathryn Knutson.”

The warden froze. “Those are the names of the--”

Marzia cocked the gun.

“Of course of course right away!” The warden quickly typed their names in. As he typed he squeaked, “There is no way to escape. We have measures to make sure the prisoners can’t. There is no way…”

“Shut up,” Marzia said.

He did. Soon he had them pulled up, displayed on the screen. Mark quickly copied them onto his own comm, sending it off to the gang down below.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Mark said, standing. He paused for a second, fingers dancing over the orb. “One last thing. Where did you get this?”

“T-that old thing?” The warden said. “It was passed down in my family. There were several, given from parent to child. From the GAAP founding. My ancestors had a hand in its founding,” the warden said, with pride he didn’t know was dangerous.

The warden didn’t have a chance to say another word. Mark lashed out, his hand wrapping around the throat of the warden. He barely had the chance to scream before Mark’s hand was crushing his trachea. He could kill him now. He could feel the heat at the edge of his fingers, ready to burn. Ready to destroy. Ready to kill.

All that filled Mark’s mind was a memory of a poisoned world.

A burning world.

A dead father.

Burning.

Another memory interrupted them.

The memory of watching a man with his face mercilessly kill a pirate. Unflinching as blood splattered across his clothes.

Mark may have become more like Madapriel, but he was still Mark.

Mark released the warden's neck, pushing the terrified man away. The warden gasped for breath, reaching up to feel the small burns now dotting his neck. The warden and the ghost shared a look. They both knew Mark could have killed him. But Mark had been merciful.

Amy’s voice echoed in his head.

“We don’t kill.”

He didn’t kill.

Before Mark could do anything else there was a muffled shot and the warden's head jerked back. He crumpled to the floor, blood seeping from the newly formed hole in his head. Mark turned to see Marzia with a gun raised. Her impassive eyes directed at him. “What was that about?”

“You shot him,” Mark said, a familiar shock in his voice.

“He was dead the moment we entered this room.”

Mark shuddered before he pulled a pair of gloves from his bag, slipping them on. He carefully opened the glass dome, taking the orb and wrapping it with a strip of fabric before placing it into the bag.

At least one was safe.

Fuck.

That had been the first time Mark had truly felt he understood Madapriel’s anger. His rage at losing his world. His people. Mark had felt that. He’d acted on it.

His hands were shaking.

“The thing about sharing your worst memories with someone,” Mark said, “is that their hate becomes your own.”

Marzia’s eyes darted to the bag, and then to Mark’s eyes.

“I have their cells,” Mark said, striding for the door. “Let’s go.”

He walked away, not looking back.

“Idiotic gret,” echoed the memory of Madapriel. “You shouldn’t exist.��

Funny.

Madapriel had called him the death of his culture.

Maybe he was just the beginning.

It felt like fire.

The Finality had coursed through his entire being, changing him into something new. The crystal now sunken into his orb. The DNA of each species being written into him. Unraveling as they rejected each other. Joining as the crystal found a way for it to work. It was like a spark blooming in every nerve.

Then it caught and burst through him. Racing. Tearing him apart into something new.

Something final.

Madapriel caught a glance of himself in the tinted windows lining the streets. He still retained that human appearance from Mark. The long face. The broad nose. The unmistakable curve of his jaw and wavy black hair that now reached his shoulders. Still a facsimile of him.

Those Xanhull marks remained as well. His red and blue. But there was more to him now. His veins were lined like cracks across his skin, glowing his colors. Faint scales patterned him like armor. He felt fluidity under his skin, rippling from the half Celestial and the DNA of the man and woman he now felt remorse for. He was not just himself anymore.

He was so much more.

A renewed cry pulled him from his reflection. The robot Google had taken the lead, striding towards a small gathering of GLE officers. They shot at it before retreating a bit more. Nothing was stopping the machine set on one last mission.

He had been planning this day for so long he could hardly believe it was here.

The day that he would ruin them.

Madapriel kept walking. A smile spread across his face, lightning in his veins and a message on his lips.

The room shook. Mika shot a panicked look at Sean and Gab. The two Velm appeared calm, though, except for perhaps a quick glance at each other or the android they shared the cramped room with. They waited with baited breath for Mark and Marzia to return from the warden’s office.

Outside was hell.

The prison had descended into pandemonium once news of the riots reached the prisoners’ ears. How they had found out, no guard could guess, nor did they likely have time to. Their efforts were focused entirely on keeping their prisoners in line.

They were failing.

Something slammed against the door of the broom closet.

Mika flinched, shifting away from Sean as the scales on his arms shot up. In her backpack, Spencer whimpered.

“They’ll be here soon,” Gab said, interrupting Mika’s attempts to comfort her dog. “I just got a message from Marzia.”

The trio fell still, all focused on the door to the closet. No one dared even breathe.

Moments passed in tense silence before the door suddenly rattled, then opened. The three inside readied to fend off whoever had opened the door before all at once relaxing.

Marzia shoved a limp body away from the door with her foot before she and Mark stepped inside the closet, filling in the rest of the cramped space. Mark pressed his back to the closed door.

“I should help find them,” Mark spoke first, a desperate edge to his voice. “I know them best, it’s-”

“It’s not safe,” Marzia interrupted, shaking her head, barely visible in the dark closet. “We’ve already risked enough letting you in here at all. The plan goes on as we discussed before.”

Sean and Mika shifted towards the now ex-Camaltare, while Gab shifted towards Mark.

“We’ll get them out,” Sean said, meeting Mark’s stubborn gaze. “Cross my heart. You’ll have your reunion when this is all over.”

Mark nodded, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open again. He and Gab split one direction, back towards their cloaked ship, while Sean, Mika, and Marzia went another, deeper into the heart of the prison.

The Graeldur guards lay slumped, lifeless, in the corner of the Central Broadcast room. Most of the GAAP employees had scattered long before Madapriel and Google arrived, though a few tenacious fools now lay dead in the halls.

“Is it ready?” Madapriel asked, voice full of power despite keeping his volume low.

The panels on the robot’s face shifted as it looked up at its savior. Its left hand rested on the control panel, several wires plugged into different outputs. “Ready when you are,” Google’s mechanical voice hummed from its voice box.

Madapriel nodded, straightening his posture as he turned to face the camera Google had set up. Brush the dust off his shoulder, adjust his collar, tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear, roll the tension from his neck. “Start it and then leave. You know where to go.” He gave the robot one last glance before staring the camera down.

Google’s face plates shifted once more before the recording light lit up, and then it quickly ducked out of the room, leaving only a small flash drive behind.

Madapriel grinned at the black lens reflecting his perfected face.

“People of the GAAP. It is wonderful to see you.”

It had taken them longer than they would have liked, but Mark and Gab were back in Sean’s ship, sitting in anxious silence as they awaited any sort of news from their friends inside. BB was curled up in his owner’s lap, letting her nervously run her fingers through his long fur. Chase had dropped off tea a few minutes ago, but Mark hadn’t touched his, and now it was getting cold. It was fine. He didn’t really care for tea much anyways.

All of a sudden, the large screen in the small living room lit up, startling all three occupants. Gab and Mark locked eyes, neither sure what to say or what was happening. BB hopped off of Gab’s lap and scurried out of the room.

“This shouldn’t be-” Mark said, voice tight.

“I know. Felix’s upgrades… No one should be able to reach this.” With her pet gone, Gab rubbed her arms, picking at a few loose scales.

It took a moment, but the static cleared from the screen, and Mark felt the blood drain from his face at the sight that appeared. He wanted to run from the room, but something kept him locked in place.

Madapriel grinned down at him, seemingly making direct eye contact, black eyes meeting red. He looked different in a way that made the lines on Mark’s back itch again. The Finality. This… this had to be it.

“I’m sure my face looks familiar to some of you, but I assure you I am not him. My name is Madapriel, and I am a Xanhull.” His face twisted in mock surprise. “‘But there’s no such thing as Xanhull!’ I hear you say.” The malicious grin returned. “That, my friends, is one of… many lies your dear government has fed you for hundreds of years. Don’t worry. I have already rectified this mistake. Do me a favor and check… well, anything that the GAAP can connect to. You’ll find the truth there.”

Mark scrambled to pull his comm out of his pocket, catching a brief glimpse of Gab doing the same. Sure enough, several new files had appeared on it. To Mark, most of the information was familiar. Madapriel’s voice seemed to narrate the stories as they opened on Mark’s small screen. The real story behind the rise of the GAAP. The fall of Unohsket. The eradication of its people. The complete erasure of the Xanhull from history and the subsequent experiments on any found alive. The story of Madapriel.

“I loved the GAAP as much as I’m sure many of you do,” Madapriel said, voice cracking with sadness Mark couldn’t decide was feigned or not. “But they betrayed me. For many years I fought for them, and then, when I was so sure I had found safety after the loss of my home, they captured me and tortured me.” The lines on the Xanhull’s face seemed to crackle with electricity and emotion. “They broke me. They tried- they tried to open my heart. They ruined any chance I ever had of living a normal life as a Xanhull again.”

Madapriel’s face split in a wide grin once more as a new file appeared on Mark’s screen, and his suspicions were confirmed.

“Or so they thought. But for you, my dear Xanhull siblings, I have achieved Finality!” Madapriel stepped back from the camera, spreading his arms wide. “The GAAP cannot harm us any longer! I am here to protect you. I will revive our dear planet, and bring the Xanhull people back to this galaxy!”

A chill ran down Mark’s spine, and he glanced over at Gab, but she was too busy digging through the files on her comm. How much had she known before, Mark wondered. Had Felix told her everything? Or was this as new to her as it was to a vast majority of the galaxy? How many lives were being thrown into turmoil by this message?

“This is it, isn’t it?”

Sean, Mika, and Marzia stared at the empty cell in front of them, confusion on all of their faces. Marzia checked the cell number again and shook her head.

“I don’t- it has to be. These are the right numbers. I double checked before Mark and I left the warden’s office. I don’t know why she isn’t here, unless she was- unless something happened.”

This part of the Central Prison was almost completely empty. Most of the prisoners had already been cleared out and ushered deeper into the prison, including the ones in this wing, apparently. The silence was deafening, every movement a thousand times louder as it echoed down the empty corridors. Sean’s tail lashed back and forth as he watched the hall for any sign of danger.

“Maybe she went to find one of the others,” Mika suggested with a shrug. “I mean, if the whole place has gone to shit, she’d want to find her friends, right? That’s what I’d do.”

Sean was about to agree when the sound of a shoe squeaking against the tile behind him caused him to spin around, knife in hand.

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, I ain’t here to arrest ya.” A tall Nakopt man in prisoner garb was approaching them, arms up in a gesture of non-hostility. “I saw yous all headin’ down here, and didn’t recognize ya, so I tagged along.” He extended his hand to Sean, who glared at it and stepped back. The Nakopt didn’t seem upset by this, though, and simply shrugged. “Name’s Yancy. Yous’s lookin’ for Amy Nelson, yeah?”

Marzia stepped forward, gesturing at Sean to stand down. Clearly upset, he backed off, keeping the knife in his hand. “You know where she is?” she asked the prisoner, keeping her voice level.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Yancy hummed, a cocky smirk on his face. “What I do know is that you all won’t find her here. Won’t find none of her friends neither. They’s all long gone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sean hissed, earning him a sharp look from Marzia.

“It means we’re breaking from the plan.” Marzia sighed, the only sign of her impatience. “You can’t give us any more information?”

“No can do, missy,” Yancy said, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I know about as much as yous do about where they’ve gone. Last I saw Ms. Nelson, she was lookin’ for her gang. Haven’t seen her since.”

Something about the way the Nakopt spoke made the scales on Sean’s arms stand on end. He had met some slimy motherfuckers in his time, but this guy was by far one of the slimiest and motherfuckeriest. An itch in the back of his head urged him to just put a knife to Yancy’s throat and threaten him until he told them everything, but Sean didn’t know what the prisoner had hidden on him. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“You can at least tell us where the guards are taking everyone, right?” Marzia asked, enough pleading in her voice to hopefully garner sympathy from Yancy. “Just point us in the right direction.”

Yancy tapped his foot, pointed ears twitching as he thought. “Yeah, I can tell yous that. Just go the way I came from, and then take the first left yous see. Yous’s’ll probably hear them by the time yous all get there. Be careful. Lots’a guards down there.”

“We’ll be just fine, thanks,” Sean huffed, interrupting Marzia. He shared a quick glance with her before shoving past Yancy, not waiting to see if Marzia and Mika were following. His heart was beating near out of his chest from anxiety. They had to find Amy and the others.

“Ethan!”

Amy shoved her way through the crowd of prisoners, holding tightly to Kathryn’s hand. It was nearly impossible to get through the waves of panicking people, and no matter how hard she and Ethan tried to reach each other, it felt like more people just kept getting in the way. She felt close to giving up when a large body suddenly shoved in front of her, grabbing her arm and dragging her and Kathryn forward, parting the crowd like a wave.

Tyler smiled down at her briefly before looking forward towards Ethan.

Amy was sure he said something, but she could hardly hear over the roaring crowd. She followed him with half-blind trust as they all made their way to an open cell, forcing their way out of the crowd and into the empty space. All of them took seats around the cell, breathing heavily. Amy hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to get through the river of prisoners, but her body ached from being shoved every which way.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Ethan said first, while the others were still catching their breath. “They’re just taking us deeper into the prison.” Worry creased the features of the android’s face as he tugged the sleeves of his jumpsuit. Kathryn leaned up against him, doing the best she could to comfort him with her hands still cuffed.

“I know,” Amy said gently, or as gently as she could when they all had to half-shout to hear each other over the roar just a few feet away. “I- I don’t know how to get out of this hall, though. We’ll be stuck in one spot forever if we try to go against the current, but if we go any deeper, we’ll just lose any chance of escape at all.” They had been so close before, all four of them running for an exit when they were dragged into the fray. Amy had lost sight of Tyler and Ethan, but had managed to keep a hold of Kathryn. And now they were here, farther from their goal than ever.

Tyler shook his head and got to his feet, towering over his friends. “We have to try,” he said, voice firm, yet weary. “We can’t just give up. If- if Mark were here, he’d keep trying, right? He fought until the end, and we should too. If he knew we had just given up when we were so close to freedom…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as he blinked tears from his eyes. “If we stick to the wall and I lead the way, it should be easier than if we try to go through the center of the crowd. We should link arms so we don’t get separated, and if we do lose each other, just keep moving forward.”

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” Kathryn said, getting back to her feet as well and half-pulling Ethan up with her. The confidence from his friend seemed to infect the android as well, and he grabbed her hand tight. “If we don’t move soon, we might end up trapped here. We have to take this opportunity while we’ve got it.” She didn’t need to say it for them to all know that. The crowd outside the cell was growing denser by the minute as guards brought more prisoners from different parts of the prison.

Amy linked an arm with Ethan. “Then we go now.”

At this point, Sean, Marzia, and Mika bump into the Barrel crew, and the two groups have a short reunion before being jumped by guards. The group is vastly outnumbered, since the Barrel crew are all either cuffed or weaponless, so they start to lose quickly as more and more guards show up to the fight. Just when it's starting to get too much for Sean, Marzia, and Mika to handle, Wade shows up in the crowd of guards and turns the tide of the fight, uncuffing Tyler and Kathryn and giving Ethan and Amy weapons. They still can't win the fight, but they're able to make a break for freedom. ANTI leads the way, since Sean's prosthetic is damaged in the fight. They can't reach Sean's ship, so they go for a ship used to transport prisoners. Marzia sends a message to Gab to meet them on a moon not too far away.

At this point, we would cut back to Gab and Mark receiving this message from Marzia. Mark is anxious because there's no information in the message about the safety of his crew, and the broadcast from Madapriel is still going. It goes on for a moment longer before ending suddenly with the sound of an explosion. Gab bursts in shortly after and announces that Central is gone. We find out that, prior to arriving at Central, Madapriel had turned Google into a walking bomb. The broadcast was partially a distraction to allow Google to get into the largest building in Central and blow up. The building is completely destroyed, and a poisonous gas seeps out from the wreckage. Many of Central's occupants escape, but many more do not, dying in the toxic cloud, a parallel to Unohsket's death.

Gab and Mark arrive on the moon agreed upon with Marzia. A ship from Felix has arrived as well with a medical team to treat any injuries and fix any prosthetic that needs repairing. Sean's leg has been repaired and Amy is being fitted with a new arm when Mark and Gab arrive, and everyone has a touching reunion together, including Robin, who arrived with the ship from Felix. They take time to recuperate and catch up with each other. Soon, they receive news that there is activity on Unohsket. The collective crews gather everything up and travel there.

By the time they arrive, progress is already being made in rebuilding Unohsket. Madapriel is working on gathering the remaining Xanhull and half-Xanhull. Mark receives directions to where Madapriel is staying. They meet at Madapriel's house, which is also functioning as a Xanhull nursery. Mark adds the orb he got from the prison warden to the nursery, and the two discuss what happened with the prison and Central, coming to a mutual understanding and an agreement that the two will stay out of each other's way.

Mark, Amy, and Sean establish Cloak, an undercover group that works to protect species targeted by the GAAP in order to prevent more incidents like Unohsket and Scarlix. They work quietly, known largely by their motto, Hidden in Plain Sight. Tyler returns to Ventos Beta, exhausted from the events of the past few years. He's ready to take some time off from travelling for a while. Ethan, Kathryn, Blank, and Spencer travel in their own ship, a gift from Mark and Amy. Ethan and Blank get to see the stars like they always wanted, and Kathryn makes sure they don't get into too much trouble along the way. Their crew quickly grows as they pick up lost or abandoned androids without homes. They gain the moniker of the Cranky Crew, though anyone who's met them knows that doesn't refer to their demeanor. After the destruction at Central, no one dares touch Unohsket or its immortal protector, unless, of course, they aim to seek refuge there, as many Xanhull still do.

#spaceiplier #official story #markiplier #jacksepticeye #Amy Nelson #tyler sheid #crankgameplays #kathryn knutsen #darkiplier #thanks for everything #admin crow

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