The Thanatos Initiative

The Future is very Grim

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Animus Core

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Prometheus: David 8

Creative Challenge

Theme 11: Scifi or Fantasy

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Game of dweebs

Readers of The Thanatos Initiative will know the character Daniel, who’s basically the living embodiment of Deviant Art OCs.

He’s a synthetic life form who was groomed to be a timeline for someone in cryosleep, so he just absorbed everything and anything over 80+ years and along the way he picked up A Song of Ice and Fire.

EYYY LMAO NERDLORD

Basically he’s a huge ASoIaF nerdlord and calls himself Daniel Snow and his favourite character is Jon Snow because he thinks of himself as a bastard son who wants to make his father proud and he projects ASoIaF characters on everyone around him and thinks he’s so classy and cool.

Protip: He’s not.

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blackberry by len-yan

[thanatos-initiative]

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Their last attempt to storm the Ark resulted in soldiers dying in scores of hundreds; this time they walked right up to the Ark, and it opened to allow them passage.

With their Faustus OS down, their metal spiders were useless, and they scrambled to defend against the Outlanders pouring into their military zone.

She and the other Outlanders would still need to clear a fifty mile buffer zone before they reached the base itself, but she was confident they could make it. They had to. They had never made it this far before, and another opportunity would not present itself for quite some time, if ever, and certainly not in their lifetime.

Racing towards them, amongst the armoured soldiers that housed actual flesh and not robotic parts, she spotted the all too familiar gleam of scythe metal. She would not fall to the Reapers and their scythes, not today. Not until she had made her grandmother’s dreams a reality.

Ahead of her, she watched a figure break from Weyland’s ranks and race towards one of her soldiers just as they began open firing. Even through the reflective visor she could spot those glowing yellow-green eyes, and the Reaper nodded respectfully to her, scythe at the ready to sever what the Mad Old Bastard told her were called ‘Cinematic Records’. Except they never swung their scythe, for another scythe pushed through their chest and carved the Reaper open.

Yes, the Thanatos models worked.

Today, none but the Reapers themselves would be taken by Death.

_____________________

Eric clung for dear life as Grell used her Arachnoid body as a battering ram, charging through allied and enemy soldiers alike.

“Doin’ a good job down there, my noble steed.” The Scotsman jested, and Grell’s laughter echoed in his helmet.

“If I recall correctly, in my mentoring days I did most of the riding.” She quipped and Eric snorted.

“Most, but not all.”

‘I’m not hearing this.’ Came Alan’s exasperated voice through the shared line.

‘I heard it but I wish I had not.’  Came William’s unimpressed voice, and Eric flustered through an apology.

“I guess we should all be thankful Ron’s can’t hear any of this.”

_____________________

He imagined her headspace would have been just like her; Grell was a frenzy of colour, activity and vibrancy. In truth, it was quite the opposite in his current situation, and his surroundings were clinical, clean, and completely devoid of red.

On his shoulder was a spot of warmth, like a hand clasped firmly but gently, and Ronald knew that was where William was linked to him. In front of him stood his Captain, and though her eyes were open, they were blank and unseeing. He squeezed her hand tightly, running his thumb along her skin and he felt her softly squeeze his hand in return though for the most part she remained unmoving.

There was over a year missing from his memory, and three friends missing from his life and never had he felt more alone than now, even though he was surrounded by people daily. There were memories he could recall that weren’t true, and others he couldn’t recall but were, and there were large black blots staining his timeline and he dare not even imagine what lay under them.

But now, somehow, the suffering he’d undergone was proving useful. Somehow the micro machinery in his head responsible for muddling his memories was also the only way to combat the calculated blackout by enemy forces.

Somehow, after all the times she’d saved him, even going so far as to bring an entire research complex to ruin to retrieve him, he finally had a way to help her.

Ronald leaned forward, resting his brow on her shoulder. It was his turn now.

_____________________

Alan narrowed his eyes, circling a few areas on the map and tapping his tablet to transfer it to the main screen so all the Agents in the command room saw it.

“Who are these Agents?”

“Squadrons E and F were deployed to that area.” One of the Agents replied, though her voice remained shaky with uncertainty. “But even combined those squadrons would not be able to cover an area that large.”

“Bring up our markers.”

“Tagging our Agents on the map. Please standby.” She announced, fingers racing across the screen as she remotely switched on the identification devices implanted in the standard combat armour.

“Only half are showing. Is it because our main system is down?” Alan queried, roughly counting the blinking dots and finding them too few in comparison to the large groups showing on the screen. “Look, Captain Sutcliff shows up here and there are Agents from Squadrons A through to Z littered in standard formation, but all of these dark patches here are also showing up as our Agents.”

“Sir...Sir, I don’t-” the young Intelligence Officer tried to hold her fear at bay. “Sir I don’t think those are our Agents.”

_____________________

「Target locked」

The crosshairs overlaid onto the Outlander ahead, and he thumped the cockpit hatch.

“This is my stop.” Eric declared, steadying himself to jump off the Arachnoid. “Weapons system is online and on autopilot until I get back.”

After he heard Grell hum in acknowledgment, he crouched before springing forward and into the fray. Their job wasn’t to defend the Arkist soldiers or aid the Outlanders, no their job was to simply end the lives of those that fell. Death, after all, never discriminated.

He raised his Scythe, ready to swing and sever both Record and soul. By chance there was a glint in the corner of his eye, and Eric turned just in time to spot the Scythe aimed straight at his head.

“What the-” Ducking just in time for the Scythe to graze his helm instead of through his face, Eric lost his balance and hit the ground. In a heartbeat there was a body pinning him down, but it wore not the polished armour of Weyland’s lot, not the battered armour of Lau’s lot; the figure wore Division issued combat armour.

“What are you doing?!” Eric strained against the figure, managing to kick them away so he could better grip his Scythe and make a proper swing at them. “I’m a Reaper! I’m a Reaper like you, you daft prick! The battle’s out there, not with me!”

He only received a blow to the chest in response, and Eric scrambled backwards before stumbling back upright.

“Get a grip, Agent! You are a soldier of the Division just like me!”

“No, not like you.”

The voice was cold and emotionless, and Eric felt ice drip down his spine. Having weighed the options, he chose to fight rather than flee, and as the figure pulled back to throw its spear-like Scythe, Eric lunged forward and beheaded it.

Blood spurted out of their neck as the body collapsed onto the ground, and Eric readied his Scythe to cut the Record and inspect it to identify his assailant.

Only there wasn’t a Record.

And there wasn’t a soul.

_____________________

“Daniel, is our connection to Grell secure?” William frowned, scrolling down the screen and searching for names.

“Yes sir, it is both secure and solid, and we are experiencing no interference whatsoever.” Daniel smoothly replied.

“And she is capable of receiving incoming Records and souls for direct uploading to Archives?”

“Yes sir.”

“Grell,” William tapped another window, “there is nothing being uploaded here.”

‘That’s because no one’s giving me anything!’ Grell growled, and William could hear the crunch of metal amidst the thunder of gunfire. ‘I’ve yet to receive a scrap!’

‘But there are Records everywhere.’ Alan interjected, throwing them into the shared screen so they could see the ribbons of Records writhing in the air waiting to be harvested. ‘Why is no one reaping?’

Daniel tipped his head curiously, patching into their surveillance cameras. Both sides were dealing the other with injuries that would have proved fatal, only there seemed to be no fatalities.

“Because, sir, they are not dying.”

Eric panted, more slain not-Reapers at his feet and more racing towards him. Amongst those bodies were the bodies of his fellow Reapers, too, the Reapers who were caught unaware and had no time to defend themselves.

‘No, but we are.’

_____________________

There was a click and a whirr and then her system recognised the reels being uploaded through her and back to the Division. However, instead of the black spools, the Records were edged in gold and longer, much longer than the usual span of a mortal life.

"Eric! Eric what's happening?" Grell demanded, trying to locate him amongst the fray. "These aren't human Records!"

'Make sure your connection is stable.' The Scotsman's voice was heavy with emotional fatigue. 'They deserve to make it back home.'

It was happening again, and far too soon and she knew it would be agony for him, an agony she could no longer feel and was glad not to. She lacked that ability, and the void inside her could only be filled with cold anger.

With renewed force, Grell braced forward and powered through the swarming soldiers, intent on closing the gate to prevent any more Outlanders from breaching the Ark. The Reapers were being attacked by impostors and the sooner this fight ended, the sooner they could find out what was going on.

Too late did she notice the missile speeding towards her left side until its explosion sent her teetering dangerously sideways. Static filled her ears and all lines of communication became scrambled.

'The Spider! Take down the Spider! It's their communication tower! Take it down!'

A female voice demanded over a shaky line, and Grell hazarded a guess it belonged to the Outlander Commander. With barely a moment to react, Grell soon found her Arachnoid body crawling with soldiers trying to pry her open, as if to kill the pilot inside the cockpit. Shaking violently, she tried to throw them off, using her front legs to swat and swipe and yank the small mortals off her body.

A booted foot thumped on the cockpit hatch repeatedly, and Grell managed to impale the culprit and throw him off. Another replaced him immediately, and Grell screamed in frustration as the Destroyer's legs buckled under the barrage of well-aimed bullets.

A metallic shriek of protest accompanied the breaching of her metal shell, and something clattered into her empty cockpit.

'EMP BOMB, FIRE IN THE HOLE! FIRE IN THE HOLE!'

"NO!" Grell roared, clumsily trying to reach inside the control pit and fish out the tiny device before it could detonate. "No no, fuck NO!" 

A battle-scarred face peered into her screen and Grell paused briefly.

"I am Commander Zicheong Lau. I hold no hatred for your kind, nor do I take sides." She spoke calmly, as if there wasn't a war being waged around them. "I am on the side of my people, that is all, and so I will inform you that interference with your kind is being caused by Aleister Chambers. Goodbye and good luck."

She skidded down the thorax before vaulting off and re-joining her troops, and Grell lost sight of her in the horde. 

"Did you lot hear that?"

'Yes, and I also heard the part about them throwing a bomb inside you! Get out of there, Captain! Log off! Now!' Alan urged desperately. 

_____________________

William turned to Daniel, his expression dire beneath his helmet. 

"The Records are undamaged?"

"Perfectly intact, sir."

"How fast can we pull Sutcliff out of there and back into her own body?"

Daniel paused, pressing his lips together thoughtfully, as he chose his answer with utmost care.

"Not soon enough. The device will detonate in forty-three seconds and the power needed to keep the connection steady exceeds the capacity of the device in Agent Knox's head."

The Director closed his eyes, feeling as though the world had stopped and he had been pulled into a dark, silent vacuum.

"I have to make a choice between the two of them?" William pivoted, turning to look at Ronald's unmoving body as the younger Reaper remained the crucial link between Grell and the Division. 

If he did nothing, then Grell would return to her body at the expense of a neural surge, killing Ronald. If he did something, Ronald's connection would be severed, saving him but leaving Grell to die.

"I will not." He gritted his teeth, knuckles blanching. "I will not choose."

Closing his hand on the main power cable plugged into the back of Ronald's helmet, William yanked it out and replaced it with his own. He pushed Ronald's power cable into his own helmet a fraction before lightning bolted through every nerve in his body and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

There was a blinding explosion, and pain, white hot pain-

And then nothing.

Daniel watched in morbid curiosity as Ronald and William crumpled to the ground like cut marionettes. 

_____________________

Get out get out getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutge-

Grell fumbled for the neural link, pawing in her mental headspace for the 'string' that tied her to Ronald and anchored her to the Division. She spun around, expecting to face him-

and faced herself, instead.

"What?" She blinked, unsure as to what was happening. Ronald was nowhere to be found, and when she raised her hand, her reflection did the same. Had someone cut their connection off? Was this it for her?

"Hi lovely."

She gasped, stunned into silence as her mirrored self smiled, hand on cocked hip and the other playing with the ends of her hair.

"Who-"

"I'll save you the trouble. I'm Grell. The better one." The doppelgänger introduced herself with a dark grin, and Grell narrowed her eyes in immediate disgust. “Now now, don’t be hostile. We’re supposed to get along and play nicely, don’t you know?”

“Where am I?”

“In my head.” Her reflection tapped her temple, smile widening. “It was a nice trick of theirs, wasn’t it? That bomb they tossed inside you brought you down and we managed to pluck you right out of thin air before you could get back to the Division.”

“We?” Grell echoed. “Druitt’s behind all of this?”

“We’ve had a helping hand along the way, but yes.” She shrugged, reaching out and patting Grell on the shoulder. “But now we need you.”

“Why should I help you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry darling, I didn’t quite make myself clear!” She laughed and it was cold and full of menace. “I made that sound like you have a choice.”

_____________________

William wrinkled his nose, brows furrowed in concentration.

Something sweet? Something baked that was sweet?

Rubbing his eyes, he slowly opened them and blinked away the spots in his vision as he sat up gingerly.

Somewhere ahead he could faintly hear laughter and giggling, and the sweet scent of freshly baked somethings filled the air and William felt an ache in his chest that was akin to homesickness. When was the last time he’d rested? Taken a weekend off and just enjoyed time away from the Division?

Never, really, but that didn’t mean he had never wished for it.

Looking down at himself and at his surroundings, he realized he’d been dressed in loose knits and draped jersey and soft linens and he was sitting in a bed dripping in quilts and blankets and furs.

His bare feet touched worn, waxed wood and he left the cosy warmth of the bed in favour of exploring what lay outside the door.

“AND THEN,” came an enthusiastic, familiar voice, “whoosh! Captain swung her Scythe and stopped him right in his tracks!”

“And then what happened?” Eyes wide in fascination, breath held in anticipation.

Ronald was sitting on the floor with a russet-haired boy, a platter of biscuits within arm’s reach. The boy bounced impatiently, reaching for Ronald’s hands.

“Ronnie tell meeeeee!” He whined, and Ronald laughed.

“Ah, you’re awake William.” Hannah smiled softly, removing the shawl around her shoulders before draping it around him and shepherding him to an armchair. “How are you feeling?”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts and piece together what had happened, what was happening at present, and he had been here before, had seen that boy before and that boy had asked about Ronald before and this was her work; the Demon who was not really a Demon but an old Goddess with hellfire and heaven’s peace in her veins.

And if Ronald was here it meant Ronald had survived his uncharacteristically reckless actions and William was incredibly relieved as he allowed himself to be guided to sit down. A war was still in progress outside but for the moment all was safe and sound.

“Oh, hey Boss.” Ronald’s smile was both sheepish and apologetic as he picked up the platter and offered it to him. “Sugar biscuit?”

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mythology meme » [1/9] Greek Gods/Goddesses

Born to Nyx (Night) and Erebos (Darkness) and twin brother of Hypnos (Sleep), Thantos was the daemon personifcation of death or the non-violent god of death.  He is, however, depicted as being merciless and indiscriminate, hated by - and hateful towards - mortals and deathless gods. 

“[…] but the other has a heart of iron, and his spirit within him is pitiless as bronze: whomsoever of men he has once seized he holds fast: and he is hateful even to the deathless gods.”

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