Just let me know I'm not forgotten out here alone
PT2
Woop here I go writing again.
Anyway, introducing Ico, a little alien kid, Noble-6, who didn't fucking die on Reach, and Verica, a smart A.I. with some major hyper empathy.
When the glassing happened, Ico had been deep, deep down in the labyrinthian tunnels off the Enall’s underground paradise, none the wiser of the devastating calamity occurring far above him.
Not many of the glittering, bug-like populace ventured this far down, for fear of meeting some of the more vicious of Reach’s local populace. But not Ico, oh not the young explorer, Ico prided himself on being one of the few, one of the only to brave the twisting tunnels, and even though his mother constantly warned him of the metal behemoths that arrived day in and day out aboard great spacefaring vessels, he had not yet seen one for himself. But today, that would all change.
He steeled himself, tugging on the golden sash slung around his chest, tightening it and subsequently, ensuring the twin blades would not fall. The crystalline knives, carved from the pure blue stone that the Enall inhabited and built their very livelihood around, were a powerful mix of gadgetry and Enall ingenuity, able to take whatever shape the wielder desired. Wrapped in the same golden cloth, they sat securely on his back as he gazed down the darkest pit he had come across.
Once he descended the depths, This would have been the deepest he had travelled, and while the very prospect of such a fall should have terrified the young Enall, it instead filled him with bravery and the very essence of adventure and desire.
After he returned with treasures from the very heart of the metal giants citadel, Mother would never be able to tell him he was too young to explore with the older adventurers. His sisters would never be able to tell him he was too little to help.
He may have been born on the last day of the solstice, and he may be much smaller than other young his age, but he had something all those others didn’t. Bravery, and the soul of the great adventurer Elienallsis, the one who, with her great starship, led her people to the planet, where they could start anew! And mother would never again be able to tell him that Elienallsis was just a children’s story.
But there was no time to dwell on that, he had an expedition to embark on.
With a deep breath, he puffed out his chest and dropped into the depths of the planet.
——————
Ico awoke, cold and alone on the dried-up remnants of what used to be a riverbank. It was dark, and the foul red air stung to breathe in. The world outside the great cavern was nothing like mother or the explorers described. There was no green trees, no soft, brown earth, no blue oceans or blue sky. Just twisted, red growths that tainted the outside world and a sea of stalagmites and stalactites. And the heat! Oh, the heat was unbearable, like the very earth itself was bleeding with magma and fire.
Surely they wouldn’t have lied to him! Surely this was a trick! Surely if he called for mother or his sisters, they would come out laughing and tell him that he looked silly when scared.
But nobody came. Not when he called, not when he screamed, and not when he sat down and cried. Mother should have come by now, she wouldn’t be this mean to him, would she? Sure he disobeyed her when he took her tools, and when he went out to explore the caves. But she wouldn’t be this mean! Would she?
No!
No, she wouldn’t!
She wouldn’t leave him!
But what if she did?
No! There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this! Perhaps it was a new place? Yes. That’s it! The reason he had never heard of it before, was that no adventurer had found it! And he was the first!
Well, if he was the first to find this place, this mean landscape that looked so ugly and burned his chest and dirtied his blue feathers brown, he should get to name it. Yes. He should get to name it whatever he wanted, and no grown-up could tell him what to do.
And he will name it Aroda! After the mean old teacher that never let him skip class for adventures, which were much more important than history. Besides, he was the lost grandson of Elienallsis, he didn’t need history. He had everything he needed right in his chest.
With newfound determination, the little Enall struck out, seeking to map the landscape in his little blue book. With careful lines, he jotted his steps. Over the scarred land he travelled, clambering over great mounds with his blades, and rounding twisting corners until he found himself in the shadow of a great and shiny obelisk, dark light shining on its rough surface from somewhere far beyond.
Was this one of the metal giants cities! So deep in this new and strange world. Was this where they lived? Was this why no adventurer could find their cites, because they lived here, in Aroda? Well, now that he had found one, he should be allowed to claim it, right?
Yes. He should.
Flipping the blades from his back, he stepped closer to the black metal structure, assessing the best way to get up and onto its strange roof. Why would these strange people make buildings so round and complex? A silly choice. But he’ll make sure to tell them that once he meets one.
Climbing the building proved to be much easier than he had anticipated, with his blades finding purchase on many of the scratches and deep gouges in the dark metal, and even some of the softer groves that beaded red with every cut. But then he was at the top, sitting proudly on the curved surface. And how cold it was, unnatural so against the sweltering heat. Enough to make the young boy flop none too gently against the metal and sigh.
But his relief was short-lived, as, with an almighty jolt, the building moved with unnatural speed, a great big appendage swinging barely inches above his head. Except, he could see now, that it was no building, and instead, one of the great metal titans his other would tell stories off. So high, so dizzyingly high above was its featureless head, swirling around to spot what had most likely woken it. And, Ico realised with sickening dread, that thing was him.
A cold chill raced down his spine as he lifted his head, meeting the giants gaze as the hand came down on him once more.
——————
Noble-6 woke like one of action would. Quickly and ready. So when he heard the little sigh, he was ready to start swinging. But what he hadn’t accounted for was just how small the strange creature was.
Six knew he was big, standing at almost seven feet, but compared to the tiny creature, he felt almost monstrous.
No. Why was he even entertaining these thoughts? Surely it was the result of a concussion that had him seeing the little blue alien laying on his leg. But then he looked again, and there they were, looking up at him with wide, terrified white eyes, long ears like a rabbit flattened against a round head while three-fingered hands clutched at the edges of scratches. No. They couldn’t be here, there was no alien on his leg and this was all a covenant trick.
Without meaning to, he let his hand fall, completely covering the little creature. Their warmth against his palm, even through the thick Mjolnir under-suite, cemented their existence, and the Spartan was no stronger against the tangible evidence of truth than a rabbit to a wolf.
With the tiny creature wriggling around under his palm, but otherwise immobile, Six let himself fall silent once more, gazing out at the glassed planet that was once the birthplace of the Spartan program. To any outside force that saw the stationary war machine, it would look as if he was dead, mobile forever. Lost in Action like so many more of his fallen brethren. But they would be wrong, for Six was quite alive, and though he sat so impossibly still, his mind was a flurry of activity, going over the facts and information with a fine-toothed comb.
‘Spartan-B312’, The AI in his head was not something he would get used to any time soon, and that was a fact. But still…it was nice. After so long as a freelancer, a lone wolf, a hyper lethal vector, it was nice to have someone unafraid of him, even if it was a broken fragment of a human mind.
“What is it, Ve?”, Six could feel the little creature shaking, and what was intended to be a quick glance, turned into a heart-wrenching gaze. Its little eyes were rimmed with black, glittering tears falling in an endless wave as it wailed in a singsong dialect if it even was truly words.
‘What will we do with them?’, Them. The little life pinned under his hand, pinned, and unable to move until the Spartan permits it.
“I don’t know”, he says after a moment, running a finger so carefully against the fuzz that made up their skin. But oh how the little one cried even more, the Spartans very presence frightening them beyond any reasonable hope.
‘They are alive. Intelligent’
“I know, Ve”, being so impossibly careful, a concept so foreign to him, Six managed to flip the alien over, cradling their burning body in a palm so much bigger than them. One stained red with all the blood dripping from his hands. But there they sat, chest heaving as they perched on his palm, gazing at him like a monster come to life. They were probably right. Six was a monster, the boogeyman under the bed. The hunter among lions.
‘We cannot leave them here. They will not survive on a glassed planet’
“I know”
