[Fanfiction] Shadow In White (Update: Third Part)

[Blakrana]

The air was still. Silent. Walls flowed into stairways which led to pools of water. Water flowed upwards, rested in overhead pools, before flowing back down another wall, completing the circle. Nestled in alcoves, ivory trees remained steadfast. Even should they have leaves, they would be still. Nothing moved, save the water and the lazy turning of golden ornaments and cylindrical doorways.

 

As the gold rimmed door turned shut once more, a lone robotic sentry, white and bell-shaped, floated amidst the stillness. Scanning around, the drone wove through the room, before leaving through another door, the air still once more. There was no clear purpose in the drone's movements, as it wove through vacant rooms, gilded vestments reflecting its presence as it passed. Like a spring sylph, it passed by as quietly as it came, and forgotten just as swiftly.

 

The air was still, but for the eddy of the lonely drone.

 

After a while, the drone came across something different. Focussing its optic sensors, it picked out something alien; on the floor, a lifeless figure, amidst a scattering of strange objects or tools. The drone understood nothing of what lay before it, save that none of it was white or gold. Rather, the figure was a mixture of deep red and blue, no golden trim or ivory to be found. Observation almost complete, the drone dipped closer, noting the corpse before it seemed partly mechanical. Rising upwards once more the drone turned, leaving to report the discovery per its programming.

 

The silence shattered as the drone exploded outwards, whorls of energy dissipating with the lone echo.

 

And the air once more was still.

 

**

 

Potential threat detected. Status of repair?

 

Acceptable bounds for use.

 

Status of operator?

 

Restored. Emergency stasis systems disengaging in three.

 

Status of equipment?

 

Unknown. Require operator. Disengaging stasis in two.

 

Core systems online.

 

Disengaging stasis in one.

 

Threat marked.

 

Disengaging stasis.

 

Rising in a flash of light, the 'corpse' threw a hand forth at the retreating sentry, blasting it apart from within. As the echoes faded the revived Oberon knelt, listening for motion. Lifting his helmeted head, he looked around carefully; a small room, white and gold. No visible hiding places or further threats. Reaching with one hand over their shoulder, and the other towards his thigh, he paused.

 

Instead of the comfortable feel of a Sybaris rifle, the grip was warped and twisted, the barrel having fused around the reloading mechanism. Without repair, the weapon would serve little better use than an ornate club. Their sidearm was in a worse state, simply for the fact it was completely missing. Moving his hand across his back, he drew the last weapon they had left; a mostly intact Galatine. It would have to do.

 

“...T-zkkt...can...-us,” a distorted line of static cut through the helmet systems. In a second, all that remained was sharp white noise, in two, silence. Wherever they were, it was too far for hope of assistance.

 

And where was here?

 

He cast his mind back, remembering...there had been a mission...a Derelict...Grineer had been tampering with Void Gates again, and he had been sent to assist in closing the portal. Yet there had been complications...a newly awakened Tenno, struggling to fight off the horde of Infested. That had been it; unable to do anything else, he'd sent them through the Void Gate, then stayed till the last moment as the Torsion Beam device overloaded. He crossed over during the collapse, and was cast adrift in Void space until arriving here. It had almost cost his life.

 

He tapped the side of his Oryx helmet, thankful for the automated stasis system; if necessary, a Warframe could temporally suspend a Tenno, surging them with Void energy before 'reviving' fully healed. Though it was the first time he'd heard of it functioning to such an extreme. If it had worked, it had likely exhausted the function for a considerable amount of time. Looking towards the white-gold door Oberon stood, taking the Galatine in hand.

 

Before him awaited only sanctuary or death.

 

**

 

The Void. Home to the Orokin Towers, ornate sanctuaries of a time long past. The Void may be the source of a Tenno's power, the great white realm still a mystery. Yet these Orokin structures had an ambience to them, alien and distinct to even the Void's foreign nature to regular space. As he walked, circuitry lit up at his feet, making no clear sense to the purpose it could serve. White 'trees' were numerous, although he'd heard one Tenno theorise that this was actually a part of the Neural Sentry; why else would it be connected to machinery in certain rooms of these Towers? One day, perhaps they'd have a chance to research it, but these Towers seemed to have dark intention behind them.

 

Try as one might, prolonged exploration often left a feeling of being watched on some primal, instinctive level. There was something within the Towers, watching, far more dangerous than any measure of the Corrupted victims of the Neural Sentry. Something that seemed willing to permit the Grineer or Corpus scouts that were sent here, to be left unharmed and undisturbed, despite the Sentry corrupting many others of their kind. As Oberon walked the silent halls, there was little cause to be at ease.

 

Especially considering that every Tower he'd ever been in had been filled with Corrputed, drones, and traps. All he'd found so far were dead ends and ornaments, water features and storage containers. Hours had passed since he'd awoke, and he'd found not even a single Orokin drone since the he'd destroyed. Was this place untouched? If so, the potential for finding intact artefacts was significant, if redundant; treasure is only useful if you can return home with it. If he could find a trans-

 

A door opened behind him, blasphemy amidst the silence.

 

Pressing into a wall, Oberon scanned the room; no drones and no Corrupted could have moved fast enough to vanish from sight. He readied his stance to strike, poised for the slightest motion. Yet there was nothing and the palpable silence returned once more as the door shut.

 

The air was still.

 

He was alone.

 

But the door in front of him had changed.

 

Emblazoned on the door were Tenno runes over the Orokin decorative motif.

 

I remember.

 

He'd already started running, all pretence of solitude shattered. Galatine holstered for greater freedom of movement, Oberon flew through the baroque corridors, focussed on what lay only in front of him. But as he ran, the Tower continued its defiance of him, doors leading to dead ends and storage rooms, doors leading to traps and simple doors that wouldn't open. Whatever had kept the traps offline had stopped, laser plates triggering almost as soon as he entered rooms, having only the walls for safe passage. Tenno agility was always one of their greatest weapons, beyond their Void gifts. Armed with only a sword he needed a suitable arena, as whatever was lurking within this tower wasn't simply Corrupted.

 

You forget.

 

Corrupted weren't fast.

 

You are not innocent.

 

Corrupted didn't taunt.

 

I have waited.

 

Corrupted didn't plot.

 

I know your sins.

 

Corrupted didn't think.

 

Entering a large room, Oberon had barely ducked behind a wall before a torrent of plasma bolts roared at him.

 

Corrupted didn't make traps, either.

 

Drawing the Galatine from his back, Oberon stood, crossing the sword before him in a simple salute. He had ran enough and now was the time to make his stand. Honour satisfied, he surged into the mass of foes, plasma flying past as his blade cleaved through the nearest victim. In a fluid motion, the great blade was swept wide, limbs and weapons sundered together. Drones exploded as he surged them with energy, the whorls seeking out victims as they tried to hide. Amidst the din of energy and ballistic weapons, the Galatine sang out a dirge of carnage; Lancers were cloven in two, Crewman impaled from ripostes, Gunners and Moas crushed with over head blows, drones cut down or victims of Oberon's Smite power. Within moments of meeting battle, it was over.

 

Before him, a single figure emerged from dark smoke, one hand on the haft of a scythe, the other holding kunai. Red and black, the only real factor that mattered was that this foe was encased in a Warframe, but they were no Tenno; Oberon could sense the distinction beyond mere form. Yet this shadow observed the formal edicts of battle, only known to the Tenno themselves.

 

Them and their former Orokin masters.

 

“I am your retribution!”

 

**

 

Metal clashed as the great scythe met the Galatine's edge, parted, and the combatants rallied, passing each other and striking again only to be foiled once more. Heavy blows forced Oberon back, yet a masterful parry gave him an opening, only to be deflected in turn. His foe was no Tenno, but they nevertheless fought as one. Here though was not the martial challenge of a dual, but a fight to the death. Breaking away, the smoke-shrouded assailant threw a handful of kunai with perfect precision; the Galatine managed to block most, but one scored home, gashing Oberon's shoulder. Even as his Warframe sealed the breach, the injury staggered him. The assailant leapt for the kill...

 

Only to be almost slashed in half.

 

“Feinting will not save you!” he hissed, rolling to his feet before surging forth again, scythe swept wide in a vicious arc, biting into the Galatine's blade as Oberon blocked the strike. Blades locked together, the two struggled to overwhelm the other; sweeping his hand Oberon focussed his energy, directing it into his foe in an effort to tip the scales.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Withdrawing immediately, Oberon struck out again, his command over his powers perfect; he knew he hadn't missed. But again, nothing. A third, a fourth, a fifth strike...and all he received for his efforts was the figure to tilt its head, as if studying him in perverse amusement. Raising its scythe once more, it threw another handful of kunai, gashing deep cuts where Oberon failed to react in time, forcing him back towards the walls.

 

“Your Tenno powers are useless!” The figure sneered walking slowly, deliberately forwards, the scythe glinting in the light. Ripping out one of the kunai that struck him, Oberon threw it back, only for it to be deflected with ease, but it had been enough to close the distance again, Galatine finally scoring a hit as he passed in a rush of steel. For a second neither combatant moved as red blood trickled from the great-sword to the unmarked white floor, each drip like a drumbeat amidst the sudden silence. Tracing the already healing wound, the black figure rubbed the blood between his fingers, unimpressed.

 

“Is that your best, Tenno?”

 

Oberon raised the Galatine again, once more in salute. Along the blade and his armour, lines of energy erupted into life, stark white on his own red armour. The shadow paused, gripping the handle of the scythe fully, raising to a ready stance as well, malice oozing from his eyeless stare. As one, they ran along the nearby walls, before leaping across the distance, sword and scythe meeting in the middle, before they passed each other, landed and turned into the start of a new series of attacks, neither finding the fatal hole in the other's strikes to finish the other.

 

But injuries were still taken. Blood edged both weapons and was splattered across the white walls and golden rails. Still they fought, the blades singing dire intent with every motion and counter-motion. Even their Warframes were becoming taxed to keep pace with their wearers; Oberon had lost half the horns of his Oryx helmet, whilst his foe's arm guards had been partly sheered off. As they struggled free of another deadlock, they paused, both clear of what would follow.

 

This would be the last blow.

 

His Warframe heavily scarred by the battle Oberon raised the Galatine, channelling the last of his energy into the blade. Victory here meant returning to the ongoing war for the Origin System. It meant hearing the Lotus' counsel, seeing his Tenno brothers and sisters. Defeat would mean that, for a time at least, the damage he'd done here would protect them for this adversary. As he ran forward, Galatine swept behind him, Oberon knew he had fought the greatest battle of his life. This strike would be worthy of his very soul.

 

The combatants met once more, weapons flowing in the deadly beauty of master strokes for the last time. A moment passed, then two, before a choked cough echoed loudly behind him. Fallen to his knees, Oberon's foe clutched the deep wound in his armoured chest.

 

“I...have failed...this one will remain...unpunished...” he hissed through the pain, before disappearing into smoke, lost to the Void. A moment passed, and the silence of the Orokin tower returned. Staggering, Oberon caught himself against the wall, a deep wound running along his side, armour barely intact. Using the Galatine to support him, he walked towards the door before him. The tower would not be his tomb. Even as he trailed blood over the golden awnings, his will was more adamant than ever. For every step he took, the static in his helmet dissipated a little bit more. Even as his vision started to falter, surroundings losing focus, he walked.

 

Slipping from his weakening grip, Galatine fell out beneath him, bringing him to his knees at last. Clenching his fists, he retrieved the blade and stowed it for the final time on his back as he crawled forwards, visor fixed firmly on the light in front of him. The light of the familiar sight of an Orokin docking bay, open to the Void, whilst the familiar urgent voice of the Lotus once more filled his helmet. As time slipped away, and the Lotus' voice once more grew distant only to his fading consciousness, Oberon settled into a kneeling position, and let himself slip into the peace of healing meditation.

 

**

 

A group of Lisets docked in the Orokin Tower, blocking the light of the Void, a group of three Tenno climbing out and running directly to the lonely figure knelt at the foot of the staircase. Reverently, they lifted their wounded brother between them, before returning directly to the ships. Not a word passed from any of them, save those they wrote on the battle-scarred Oberon's Galatine.

 

Live in victory, brother.

 

Departing as quickly as they came, the tower fell to silence.

 

At last, the air was still again.

 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. This was inspired by the Orokin Void ambient music preview, and I've admittedly been kicking around a duel with Stalker fic for a fair while; the shortness of the fight with Corrupted was to emphasise the difference between fighting something nowhere a Tenno in power, and then fighting something just as, if not potentially more powerful. Which is why the fight felt it ended best as arguably a 'draw'.

And any 'but in game he's easy', welcome to Gameplay and Story Segregation friend. Hell, I pure meleed him on the 12th myself and it was easier than it should have been. Lifestrike and Rage helped, admittedly...but still, you get my point, right?

 

Why Oberon? Well, he was admittedly the frame I joined on the release of, so he's always been kind of a favourite, and a frame I know reasonably well. Yes, the colour scheme isn't the default one, so click the link at the end of this for what I mean by dark red and blue. Joys of colour blindness. At any rate, I'm just going to go hide now.

Here is the colour scheme. Yes, I made the Galatine the same colours.

 

Edit: Finally fixed the font formatting issue/updated thread title.

Edited December 12, 2014 by Blakrana

[(PSN)TonberryFeye]

I liked it. I also liked your choice to acknowledge Stalker's menace in universe; a lone hunter who has ended countless Tenno lives. I particularly like the idea of him turning a whole Orokin Tower against his prey! Truly, a masterful hunter!

[(XBOX)ChaoticSerpent]

A very nice read there, the Stalker is quite the annoying pest at times. Oberon was the third frame in my inventory, very helpful and awesome.

[Blakrana]

Thanks. Admittedly I was concerned I may have taken too many liberties with some aspects, like the general damage taken...but, considering the fluff associated with Despair's description alone, it didn't make sense for them to be 'negligible'.

 

Either way, just glad people liked it. I'm hardly what I'd call confident with my writing ability...

[PsycoticHamster]

I thought this was an amazing little piece you have going here, personally I am a big Oberon fan my self. I hope that you will continue writing, and look forward to seeing more in the future if you do.

[Blakrana]

The air was heavy, the weighted neglect of untold ages hanging as invisible rotten fruit, from the gnarled boughs of a diseased tree. Light guttered, unable to truly illuminate the hell it haunted, unable to truly die to cast it into sheer darkness. Like the eyes of the dying it flickered, poised on the edge of the sleepless abyss. Undulating between the frenzied nightmare, shadows writhed in foul shapes upon dirty, stained walls of a former white veneer. Machinery whirred, broken yet still functional, doors resisting encroaching tendrils. Through this the sounds of creatures in the dark echoed, a chorus to centuries of decay.

 

Twisting through the air, a green swarm flew unhindered, reshaping over and over as if savaged by a non-existent wind. Bulkheads prised apart by brown tendrils served paths past broken and stained doors, ancient ornamentation mired in filth. Aimless, the swarm wove through room and tunnel alike, joined and parted by others. Yet always the dull, echoed howls of unseen monsters could be heard, a promise of slow, inhumane death beyond the shadows.

 

Nestled into an alcove a lone figure crouched, scanning the bleak environment as the swarms skittered past, sightless and harmless. At least that was their hope, isolated as they were. Pressing a hand to their helmet, the figure gazed inwards, trying to collect their thoughts properly. But all they found was the blackness that had haunted them since they'd awoken...no, not they...she. Since she'd awoken. She knew that much of herself, and there had been a voice...female? It had tried to help her, but there had been battle.

 

Battle she hadn't been prepared for, had almost sent her to her immediate death had it not been for another, a warrior...clad in red and blue armour, shielding her from the worst blows. It...they...he had sent her through a portal...a gate? There had been an explosion, darkness...running...screams...the female voice had been lost to silent static, leaving her alone.

 

Blackness clawed at her fledgling memories, too entangled to be made sense of.

 

She needed to know her options. The woman who'd spoken to her, saved her from the numbness of awakening after such long sleep...she'd called her 'Tenno'. She was Tenno...singular. A Tenno not the, so it was not her name but her...order? Kind? Irrelevant as it stood for now. Who was she? She looked at the armour encasing her body, the ridges akin to scales; a spark of painful light flashed amidst the black of lost memory, another 'voice', almost primal...yet comfortingly familiar:

 

Saryn.

 

Saryn'? Not her name, no, she was...wearing a Saryn...a type of Warframe, that was what the 'other' seemed to imply. The sensation passed, the 'other' retreating out of her mental grasp, like the memory of an old friend, forgotten yet remembered. For now just the clarity of an identity, however limited, was a relief. So little was still more than the hollowness awakening had led to. What followed next was getting to safety. Surviving. Absent hands reached to the weapons she'd awoken with, a short curved blade and a small, ornate pistol.

 

Skana. Bolto.

 

Levelling the Skana before her, Saryn looked along the blade to the darkness beyond the fleeting sanctuary of the alcove and pushed the doubts and discomfort of her damaged memories into the blackness in her mind, leaping into the tangible shadows below her.

 

**

 

Something groaned, a guttural noise echoing through the dismal halls. Holding herself flush to the wall, Saryn carefully leant around the corner, her faceplate only barely showing beyond the edge greeted by...nothing. Only more mutated 'bark' consuming or fracturing the walls of the...ship? Vessel? Everything she'd seen was artificial, broken energy systems amidst damaged doors. Where had all the organic material come from then? It was almost like an...infection.

 

Infestation.

 

The 'other' signposted her thoughts once more. Yet this one was accompanied by impressions of something else...of a bitter nature, rather than mere fact. Brief fleeting images like scattered sand rose up Saryn's mind from the dark, a refined sense of unease lingering once they faded back once more. This...Infestation was a threat...an enemy. One she...the Tenno, had fought before. A disease cured only by the bite of a blade or bullet.

 

Cautiously Saryn entered the room, Bolto pistol in hand, the longer she didn't need to use it the better. Even though she couldn't see any, the sound of Infested growls choked the air, reinforcing her need to escape quickly. The only issue was how...but to stop searching would make for a slow death. Following the contour of an infected trunk, the glint of a teal light above seemed to beckon her. She began to climb...

 

...and struck the ground hard from a cruel blow to her back, the attacker screeching loudly as its shadow fell upon her. Rolling quickly to her front the Bolto was brought to bear, and a flurry of thick bolts peppered the abomination's 'face' of blue-white 'lights' until it convulsed, collapsed and was silent. Immediately Saryn ran up the infested bough, leaping into the room above her and positioning herself out of sight.

 

Barely a moment had passed before a low, unnatural scream echoed through the chambers and the room below her filled with an unholy sight of twisted forms, a mixture of quadrupeds and bipeds...and what appeared to be some strange manner of bird...no. This monster was partially mechanical, partially organic, with some other manner of monster cradled on its 'tail', for lack of a better description. The monsters, the Infested she corrected herself, hesitated, screaming a harsh nightmare whilst they searched for her.

 

Daring to remove her gaze from the mutant menagerie, she glanced at the room she had found herself; a few tall containers of some kind, and two doors. Both locked, whilst a few teal-lit containers yielded some measure of items; ammunition, thankfully, and some form of currency. No secret doors, however incapable of fitting she'd have been. Even the red lit containers held no secrets, though there was a feeling something was missing from them, but she couldn't understand what that could be. There was no way out but down, into the mess of bodies below her.

 

She was trapped.

 

They're trapped.

 

The 'other'...yet this time, it seemed...eager. Confident of victory. Saryn paused, getting herself a vantage point of the inevitable battlefield. She had only so many rounds in her Bolto, even with the few extra nearby. What was she forgetting? What had she lost in her slumber through the ages? Pushing the doubts back she reached out to the 'other', asking for some small measure of guidance. Almost instantly, she swept her hand towards the tallest of the Infested below her and, in some dark irony, spores bloomed upon the creature's hide.

 

Strike.

 

As the beast howled, the toxic gift ravaging its body, Saryn fired a bolt at a spore instinctively; from the subsequent burst of virulent matter, the answer grew clear as spores grew on the other Infested. It had taken but a single sweep of her hand, and now the howling mass was at her mercy. The Bolto sang its silent song as it heralded rupture after rupture of venomous payload. The progress was slow, an exercise in skill yet after a handful of precise shots, the first victims began to fall, ever more quickly followed by their fellows. As the last Infested croaked a pained scream Saryn dropped down, embedding the Skana in the beast's head as she fell, only tearing it out as the weight of her victim turned to the limp weight of the dead. Flourishing the blade to dislodge the gore, she returned it to her back.

 

For a moment, she stood there, the silence of death a welcome reprieve from the hours trapped by their constant echoes. Yet the sounds of the Infested chorus quickly rose once more, but it had changed now. Instead of the passiveness of the last few hours, now she could hear the fury of the horde. Turning to the nearest door heading away, she ran.

 

**

 

The Infested shuddered, a blade protruding through its abdomen, slick greenish fluid seeping from the wound. A second later and the Skana was swept upwards, cleaving it in two. Before the newly divorced halves hit the ground, Saryn had moved into the shadows, treading carefully to avoid as much attention as she could. In the time since her small victory against the shambling abominations, their presence had grown steadily more pronounced.

 

Instead of merely wandering, there was an intention to their motions now as they actively hunted for her. Each small 'pack' she encountered seemed to be organised in a pattern of members; one tall Infested, with some sort of crest on its back, four quadrupeds, then another four bipeds. There had been a few variations, but the fact remained each group was almost chillingly identical in composition. Once or twice is a coincidence.

 

Almost fifty is intentional.

 

Every moment she failed to find some means of escape, her chances grew shorter.

 

Slipping through a shattered bulkhead, carefully moving around an electrified pool of rancid water, a sudden rush of pain filled her mind, forcing her to her knees. Whilst the screaming of the Infested echoed loudly around her, almost like a perverse hymn, a 'voice', alien and unfathomable howled directly into her consciousness.

 

(WHY DO YOU DEFILE US!?)

 

Like the retreat of a storm wave, the pain receded as the 'voice' dispersed, but the Infested choir grew louder, frantic. The sound of countless limbs pounding on twisted metal coaxed Saryn to her feet, running as swiftly as possible through the rotted corridors, trying to make some measure of distance between herself and the approaching horde. Sliding through a fractured doorway, she struck the control panel and drew her Skana as the elevator began its ascent, bracing herself for whatever awaited her.

 

(We are the vessel through which immortality is achieved. Assimilate.)

 

The psychic presence vanished again, replaced by the howls of Infested as the door opened, leaving Saryn only one road to survival. Grasping the hilt tightly, she struck at the twisted assailants, the Skana's tempered metal severing limbs and flesh with alacrity, but it served as barely a distraction, the monsters unaffected by a mere missing arm or leg. It took all of her focus to avoid being entirely surrounded, though still she was being pushed back. There were just too many for her to face, unprepared like this. At this rate...

 

Escape, quickly!

 

Almost instantly she was standing beside a resinous copy of herself, and the Infested seemed drawn to it over her. Seizing the opportunity Saryn leapt over the Infested, rolling before breaking into a full sprint, the horde intent on her clone. Every footfall, she listened, waiting for the screams to return amidst the disparate pounding as they resumed their hunt for her. Every second she didn't hear it simply fuelled her to keep running.

 

(Revoke the frailties of flesh. Let us in)

 

Enduring the pain of the mental intrusion Saryn slowed, the near silence of her surroundings except for the trickle of water a fleeting balm. It was enough to note how much injury she'd already endured, her Warframe gashed in various places. Even though she was still standing, the fatigue of her time in this hell was taking its toll. She hadn't stopped running since she'd awoken...clenching a fist, she set off running again.

 

She couldn't afford to linger.

 

Not until she couldn't move any more.

 

As her feet echoed on the metal and the Infested growths that littered the place, the high pitched shriek of the Infested rose up again once more, but this time mixed in with the now almost familiar howls was a new voice, greater than the rest; a scream of raw, primal power and it was coming from directly ahead, the only path available. There was no escape now. There was only facing her death directly, with honour.

 

It was how Tenno were meant to die.

 

With that clear thought, she ran into the vast chamber, a gigantic infected tree in the centre, guttering lights struggling that little more compared to the other rooms. It all slipped to the back of her mind though as the Infested below her screamed their challenge, a single giant monstrosity amidst them serving like some perverse general, howling the loudest of all. Drawing the Skana from her back, Saryn let the sound wash over her, the impending battle irrelevant.

 

After the longest second of her life she charged, the Infested mass rushing to meet her. With a sweeping motion she tagged the nearest abomination with viral spores, as the blade bit flesh, spreading the toxic plague in a single fell swoop. Ducking under or leaping over attacks she slashed at whatever came into reach as she ran, her blade in constant motion; with every flash of the Skana another spore would spread the affliction anew. The weakest of the Infested soon succumbed to the sheer amount of toxin coursing through their bodies, though many more remained, including the giant that demanded the majority of her attention to avoid being crushed.

 

Yet her foe was practically endless. For every one she cut down, there seemed another was already joining the fray. Saryn's armour was beginning to show its wear, the near misses having taken chunks from part of her collar and waist adornment. Time was running out for her, that simple truth spurring her to simply keep fighting, the Skana splattering Infested gore with every freeing stroke. As she executed the latest victim to fall at her feet a sharp, rending pain cut through her body driving her to the ground, the giant closing in.

 

Rolling aside as quickly as she could, the narrowly avoided blow shattered the metal floor, shrapnel gashing deep scores in her helmet. Staggering to her feet the sensation of something slick trickled down her back; blood, the Warframe only just having sealed the wound. Evading awkwardly now it took every shred of will to command her body to continue to move. Stationary, the giant Infested screamed harshly, the psychic force it carried compounding her injuries. Breathing heavily, Saryn swept the Skana behind her and gripped it tightly, toxin flowing into the blade as she leapt onto the giant's back, burying the blade into the creature's spine.

 

The beast fought fiercely, bucking frantically to dislodge her whilst she stabbed repeatedly wherever she could find purchase, even as her own blood trickled down her arms after every psychic scream. Cold fury guided her attacks; so long as this monstrosity perished with her, it would suffice, the last of the lesser Infested choking their final poisoned breaths. Ripping the Skana free for one last strike, her grip slipped, hands too slick with blood to hold it any longer and the gore stained blade fell to the ground, clattering loudly. Reaching for the Bolto almost nonchalantly, she lay prone on the beast's back thrusting the barrel into one of the deepest wounds, and fired until the clip clicked.

 

For the first time since she'd awoken, there was at last true silence. The Infested giant staggered before finally it collapsed to the ground, it's mutated fortitude spent, thick green-tinged blood pooling beneath it. Releasing her grip, Saryn let herself fall to her knees, exhausted as adrenaline left her limbs. Forcing herself painfully to her feet, she reclaimed her Skana, trailing it along the ground as she walked uneasily towards the stairs before her. She'd managed the first six steps before at last she too succumbed, falling forwards as her consciousness finally began to slip. Her last thought flickered oddly, certain she'd stopped falling too soon, before at last she slipped into the black silence of sleep once again.

 

**

 

Having caught her as she fell, the Ash wearer began carefully carrying the Saryn back towards an awaiting Liset, an Ember and Excalibur watching for Infested attack with flame-wreathed blades. After safely placing their injured kin aboard, the Ash gave the silent order to purge whatever Infested remained; as they left, he swiftly composed his report for the Lotus, the Liset already departed.

 

Rescue teams one and two successful. Both targets suffered severe injury; further investigation scheduled to begin after targets are delivered to priority one medical facilities. Beginning Derelict purging.

 

Report concluded, Ash drew his own blade, cutting the heavy air in a fluid motion. Back towards the darkness of space, he walked slowly forward, sparks flickering coldly along the sword as the sound of Infested screams began to fill the air once more.

 

Hope folks enjoyed the second part.

 

After hesitating, thrashing some ideas around and mostly having a couple of people saying I should continue this, I decided I'd go with what happened to the Tenno Oberon saved before he got stranded in the Void. Considering the context, I admittedly asked myself last night (as of this writing) 'what'd it'd be like to be a Rank 0 Tenno in an Orokin Derelict?' and, well, here we go. Throwing in Phorid just felt appropriate. Vor's Prize had us 'sort of' duel Vor whilst woefully unprepared, after all. If we can survive a threat like that, it's only fair Saryn earns herself a Pyrrhic Victory I feel.

 

As for why Saryn, she's another of my favourite Warframes, and Venom is honestly my favourite skill to use what with my marksmanship playstyle. Saryn's Venom strategies here are basically my go to tactics, although I admit that due to the awkwardness in-game to pop Venom spores with melee, that was an admitted luxury of 'if it worked as it should'. I apologise if that got your hopes up that it's working now, though.

 

The 'other' is what I consider the Warframe itself. Whilst I know not many people like to think of them as anything more than just special suits, I'm quite intrigued by things like Symbiotic armours or the like, as I discuss in the Posthumanism thread I made. So...going with my narrative curiosity, yes, I figured that a freshly awakened Saryn is out of synch with her Warframes 'self', so it's more obvious there's more than just her 'in there' depending how you want to look at it. Oberon by contrast had been awake significantly longer, so he'd reached the point that, when in the Oberon armour, where the Tenno ends and the Warframe begins is a very blurred line.

 

The Bolto was given to her by Oberon before the Gate ruptured, give her a better chance in the as yet alluded to prior battle. And for the record that means it's as good as Rank 0 here because Saryn's never used it before. Which does make me wonder if a Tenno trading weapons gets the Rank 0 stats because they haven't gained Affinity with it yet...food for theories I guess. At any rate, yes, there's a chance he gets it back later. Unless he actually died and it's all for want of a Bolto, said no one ever.

 

Regardless, I suppose I can safely say that I'm already musing over what comes next.

[Blakrana]

Waves, crashing upon the walls of our habitat. Creatures swimming in the darkness, the scene changes as a figure shouts; I turn to find her beckoning me, smiling brightly in the dim light. Ignoring the elders around me I join her, smiling back. She speaks to me but I can't hear her words. Her eyes glisten brightly and we begin to run, laughing the careless laughter of children. Nobody stops us as we race through our home.

 

I stumble, grazing my knee on the metal floor. Wincing, I shudder as I try to pick myself up but it's bleeding and it hurts. She stops, looking worried, asking for help, but we can't see anyone else; I don't know where I am, lost in the light. Gritting my teeth I stand, ignoring the pain as I try to walk and she tries to support me. Neither of us cry, but she's no longer smiling. I put on a brave face, tell a joke but it doesn't work.

 

We stagger slowly along, unsure where everyone is. Then we see them, a soldier in their armour, helm retracted to show a kind face. He kneels, places hands on our shoulders, says I'm really brave for still walking. I tell him I can't be scared, else I won't be able to protect people one day; soldier laughs, ruffles my hair. Thinks I'll make a good soldier one day. I smile, a little flustered whilst she beams at me. A moment later and my knee is bandaged, the soldier escorting us back to the main concourse, reminds us the ships to take civilians away from the outer reaches of the empire, to keep them safe, are due today. Soldier leaves us to go back to duty, armour gleaming in the light.

 

I look to her, promise I'll keep her safe through the war.

 

The name of the ship I need to board is called, so we embrace one last time before parting.

 

She shouts something I can't hear, but I smile as the door shuts and an attendant ushers me with the other passengers to the seating areas. After that, I can't remember anything else.

 

Just that the ship's name was Zariman.

 

**

 

“Operator? Operator, can you hear me?”

 

The voice tore the images away, like hands tearing at a gossamer tapestry. Where was here? There was no light...even sound itself seemed...inferred rather than perceived. There was no sensation...not until the need to perceive arose, colouring the surroundings to those whims. The voice came again, this time as if from above.

 

“Operator?”

 

“I 'hear' you, Artemis. What happened? Last I recall, I was starting to meditate,” they asked, playing with the 'pitch' of their voice as they spoke.

 

“Operator Morgan was transferred from their Oberon Warframe per procedure for extensive physical trauma. Whilst the Warframe is repaired, the Operator has been moved to the Ephemeral until they designate another Warframe to occupy,” the synthesised voice replied flatly, as if reading off of a script. “Weapons and equipment are being examined to determine the resources needed for repairs, and the Operator has messages awaiting their attention.”

 

Pausing, Morgan 'stretched', the formerly blank space becoming something more amenable than a black nothingness. Even for all the time they'd spent in the Ephemeral before now, it still took time to mould it into something suitable. As the last flecks of nothingness melted into scenery, the events of their last mission rose to the front of their mind, ghosts flickering before them.

 

“Cephalon, retrieve the system logs from the Oberon and highlight every entry concerning the assailant. Analyse the damage sustained and run projections on the most likely means to cause it.”

 

“Artemis took these steps the moment you were transferred to the Ephemeral, Operator,” the AI chirped.

 

“Then how long until the data is sufficient to add to a report?”

 

“Thorough analysis will likely take three standard Earth hours.”

 

“Noted. I'll take the messages.”

 

Instantly a wooden desk materialised in front of Morgan, three scrolls resting on the centre. For a moment, Morgan 'stared' at the arrangement, a sensation of familiarity creeping through their mind.

 

“Artemis, are you still running the Ephemeral through your cultural database?”

 

A moment passed, the Cephalon hesitating.

 

“That is correct, Operator. Is it not to your liking?”

 

Morgan picked up one of the scrolls, unrolling the paper to reveal familiar Tenno characters inscribed in...something black and unfamiliar.

 

“Ink. It's an approximation, of course, but the database says that ancient human cultures used brushes and ink, a manner of liquid pigment, to write messages. The concept...intrigued me. Shall I modify it to data streams?” The Cephalon explained, the faintest hint of emotion leaking into her words.

 

“No, leave it as it is. The information is perfectly legible.”

 

“Thank you, Operator.”

 

Turning back to the 'scrolls', Morgan began to read the first, a formal summons to the clan hall for debriefing, concerning the results of the original sabotage mission and what had happened after the portal ruptured. The meeting was scheduled for four hours, and all members of the clan were to attend.

 

The second scroll was a personal address from the clan warlord, explaining that the Saryn he'd assisted had been recovered, though the Warframe was badly damaged and needed repair. As a result, the Tenno had been transferred to the dojo's Ephemeral until they could provide them with their own Liset, and were currently engaged in negotiations with the Lotus on that regard.

 

Opening the last scroll, Morgan felt an unwelcome chill at the four words emblazoned on the parchment:

 

Your action's have consequences.

 

Even the way it was written was identical to the characters that had been etched on the walls of that tower.

 

“Artemis, do you know where this third message originated?”

 

“I...third message, Operator? My data shows records for only two,” the AI said plainly, a hint of confusion tinting the synthetic voice.

 

“Three messages, Cephalon. Am I to understand something bypassed your security filters?” Morgan asked quietly, the words rendering the Cephalon uncomfortably silent.

 

“I...Operator, the only possible means to bypass a Liset-class Cephalon's security filters is to use Orokin communication codes. Not even my database has an example of such a code due to the potential security risk. It is more likely I am malfunctioning to not detect a received message; in the event a Liset-class Cephalon is found to be malfunctioning, protocol dictates the immediate erasure of the faulty AI to be replaced with a more intact model,” Artemis said matter of factly, though a sliver of what could only be fear was evident.

 

“Artemis, you are not malfunctioning. Don't even consider trying to erase yourself, or I'll revoke your access to the cultural database for an Earth month. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Operator...thank you. I assume you'll be including this information with your report?”

 

“That is correct,” Morgan answered, tracing the characters on the scroll. “Notify me when approaching the dojo, Cephalon.”

 

**

 

Cold, heavy mist rolled along the ground, curling around the reeds of a lake. On the shore a figure stood poised, flowing into different martial forms at each cycle of slow, practised breathing that didn't once disturb the mist, a perfect harmony. Nearby, the mist began to become disturbed, as another indistinct figure seemed to struggle to stand. Without breaking their rhythm, the standing figure turned their head ever so slightly to observe.

 

“Interesting. Most Tenno don't exactly respond well to 'waking' in the Ephemeral,” the martial artist said quietly, watching their guest. “Although then again, most Tenno don't have someone else managing the perception contexts for them. How do you feel, Sister?”

 

A moment of silence as the other, less refined figure settled to sit on the lake shore, mist billowing away from their movement. Another, before they replied shakily back in a voice not even sure if it belonged to itself.

 

“Sister...as an honorific?”

 

“That is correct, Sister. There's no blood between us, at any stretch, but we Tenno are all kin to one another in a sense. You feel it, don't you? A bond you can't help but intuit,” stopping their exercise, they turned their full attention to the sitting figure. “I suppose you'll prefer the mist cleared? Not the most conducive for a civil discussion between admitted strangers.”

 

“I...no, I guess not. Who are you...Sister?”

 

A sharp, short laugh left the taller figure as the mist faded away, revealing a woman clad in metal armour; colour was uncertain, seemingly shifting as she moved, and a helm reminiscent of a hawk framed a smiling face, though the expression was...off, as if performed only to a mirror. The smile was little more than a brush stroke on a canvas that alters the composition. Kneeling, the armoured woman stared back.

 

“My name is Feng, Sister. Have you decided on one for yourself, or was identity a non-issue, fighting the Infested on that Derelict?”

 

“I...Saryn. That was my Warframe. Where is it? Where am I?”

 

Feng gazed past the Saryn-user, the unnatural smile still lingering at the edges of her eyes. After a moment, she swept a hand, and the entire scene changed, depositing the two in the middle of a glade, leaves rolling in the wind. Another moment, and a vast ocean, they stranded on a spit of sand. Every second, the scenery shifted and changed till it settled again to the lakeside it had been originally.

 

“This is the Ephemeral. A place for Tenno to contemplate matters without the distraction of a physical body. Everything you see, an intended view. Even your perception of a body, a voice...it's all just an illusion, to shape as you see fit. Technically it's a place to hold a consciousness in-between Warframes, but depending on who you ask, the role this place has varies,” pausing, Feng began to walk out onto the lake itself, each step birthing slow ripples. “Some use it to meditate, others simply to do their work in private. The choice is yours to make. All I've done is provide you a context for perception. In future, how you conceive this realm and yourself is your decision.”

 

Cautiously, the Saryn-user tried to stand, though as she 'looked she found what had been her body vanished, even though she still saw. Yet, it triggered nothing but the impression she should perceive something...she couldn't panic or be afraid. She was...thought and senselessness and it was...natural.

 

“Don't feel obligated to make a humanoid form. Here...explore things that interest you, should you have a curiosity to follow. The Ephemeral is your canvas, Sister. I'll return in time, and by then the repairs should be finished for your Saryn,” smiling emptily, the armoured woman clasped her hands and gave a short bow before her form dissolved into mist itself, sinking into the lake. After a moment the surroundings began to fade away, until the Saryn-user was alone, only her thoughts now for company.

 

Who...am I?

 

...Who am I not?

 

**

 

The soft light filled the observatory, a group of figures kneeling in seiza positions, backs towards the stars as they focussed on the figure at the centre of the circle, a hologram device resting to their side. The sound of footsteps could be heard as a Zephyr walked into the room, before taking their place at the 'head' of the circle, settling into a natural seiza position. Glancing to the Tenno either side of her, the Zephyr nodded towards the Oberon kneeling by the projector.

 

“We welcome you home, Brother Morgan. I understand you faced a great adversary in the Void. Tell us what you have learned,” the Zephyr commanded, authority radiating with every syllable. Nodding, Morgan activated the projector, displaying a composite image of the assailant, almost detailed enough to be mistakable for the real thing.

 

“This being was what I encountered in the Void. After the Void Gate ruptured, I found myself stranded in an Orokin Tower. Contact with the Lotus had been severed, only the natural static of that space itself discernible. As a direct result of this, I had no recourse but to press deeper into the structure in hope of finding an intact communication relay or transporter,” Morgan paused. “Over a period of four Earth hours, I found no signs of Corrupted activity, or any dormant Orokin sentry systems beyond my initial contact with an Orokin Drone.”

 

Activating the display controls the image changed, displaying engraved Tenno characters; despite themselves, all but the Zephyr stirred as they read each message in succession. On the collective nod that all had read the messages, the Oberon-user proceeded to continue their report.

 

“These were etched into the Void tower itself. Their arrangement suggests extensive forward planning, to say nothing of access to the Void itself. Furthermore, they had either disabled or appropriated the Neural Sentry, as at the end of the trail of threats, a large number of Corrupted units were waiting in ambush. After they were dispatched, I engaged the assailant directly in melee combat.”

 

The display changed and began to move, and the battle unfolded before the watching Tenno whilst Morgan stood to the side, silent. A few of the gathered clan members tightened their grips, but none uttered a sound; this was an threat, and they couldn't afford to neglect the information their Brother had returned with. When the battle reached its conclusion, Morgan stopped the play back.

 

“As you can see, honoured Brothers and Sisters, this enemy is not simply another Grineer, Corpus proxy or Infested monstrosity. This enemy, whatever they may be, is able to fight us on a level we are rarely forced to match; this enemy is as powerful as, if not stronger, than an individual Tenno. Furthermore, as the battle data shows, this enemy is outright immune to our Warframe Powers. Whilst I cannot vouch how extensive this ability is, the fact that such an entity possesses it is a severe threat,” the Zephyr raised their hand, silencing Morgan instantly.

 

“Brother, your words imply that they did not die. Do you have proof to support this?”

 

“I do, Sister. After returning to awareness within my Liset's Ephemeral, my Cephalon brought to my attention several messages. The third was not only completely beyond her awareness of existing until I called attention to it, but the possibility that such a communication had been received implied that the sender had access to Orokin communication codes that would bypass the Cephalon's security filters, to deliver the said message,” pausing, Morgan brought up the offending message to display. “I'm sure you all know our Cephalons would never permit such a message and feign ignorance. It is beyond their programming, malfunctioning units notwithstanding.”

 

Exchanging slight glances between each other, the seated Tenno considered for a moment, before attention fell to the once again raised hand of the Zephyr.

 

“Brother, you need go no further. From what we have all witnessed, you have engaged with an adversary that may operate in a similar manner to ourselves; whether they are a rogue Tenno or another group all together is not important. You are ordered to transmit the entirety of your report to the Lotus if you have not done so already,” turning to look at the Tenno seated beside her, the Zephyr's voice became stern.

 

“As of this moment, I order you all to be on high alert for even the vaguest whispers of this adversary. If one of us or another Tenno engages in combat with this individual, you are to provide as much support as possible to try and assist them; anyone attempting to abandon either a clan mate or another Tenno to this foe will answer to my sword. Where possible, refrain from solo missions until we have further information from the Lotus and her agents. I will designate partners per the requirements of further missions as provided by the Lotus. Understood?”

 

“Understood Warlord!”

 

“Then this concludes this segment of the meeting. Brother Morgan, interface the Ephemeral through the main display. I believe it is time we properly introduced ourselves to our guest.”

 

**

 

“How's this? No...the sounds are all wrong...or...”

 

'Breathing' deeply, the Saryn-user tried to pin down the echoes that seemed to ripple through her very being each time she'd tried to speak. Yet this 'Ephemeral' seemed unwilling to co-operate with her wishes. Just a simple voice, one she could use as the stepping stone to...to...whatever came next.

 

Who am I? Who was I?

 

The thoughts curled through her like smoke, silencing her just as effectively. The questions seemed to cut her to the core, whether or not she even had one anymore. The uncomfortable feeling of being...exposed, weak wrapped around her.

 

“Saryn...you knew me, didn't you? Or did you forget as well?”

 

The silence that answered the lonely Tenno simply brushed the questions aside. Yet, as she 'looked' at herself the feeling of an almost bitter hollowness grew deeper. Without 'the other' in the Derelict, the 'will' of the Saryn to help her fight, would she even be able to consider these moments? Even the very notion of seeing herself as 'she' seemed tied into awakening with the Saryn watching, guiding with those gentle silent whispers.

 

Was the relationship like some manner of sound chamber, where a simple word would refract and reshape as it bounced from the walls? Where did the sound originate, and where began the echo? Where did the echo end? Pausing, she drew an imaginary breath before shouting as loud as she could conceive, and listened.

 

It was rolling back to her...now away...now back again. Yet mixed in the fading sounds, there was a particular note that seemed to beckon her mind. Reaching out with an illusionary hand, she grasped the very sound and took into herself, let it fill her thoughts and memories. Like a new layer of paint, the sound filled the hollowness of her memories, defining where 'she' began, and how she moved through the performance of battle.

 

How the blade sang at her touch.

 

How the gun resonated with her instinct.

 

How the Saryn itself was and was not an intrinsic part of her.

 

As the sound coloured her mind and being, the scenery shifted to show a group of figures, kneeling in a semicircle around wherever they viewed her from. Barely had they appeared before the knowledge that these were simply other Tenno in their Warframes, her kin, was pure and clear to her. The figure at the 'head' of the circle seemed familiar, though it was hard to discern, the image distorted.

 

“Honoured Sister, we great you at last. You have slept long, as have we. You have awoken, as have we. Free to choose your future, we would ask to know you and your wishes,” spoke the central Tenno, a figure wearing an avian-patterned Warframe. "Would you choose to seek out your own path, or will you walk beside us? It is your decision; whatever you may choose, we will provide what support is fitting to enable that choice."

 

Hesitating, the Tenno glanced at the arrayed forms before her. She could join them, or walk her own path. Looking to her memories, she could fight alone...and yet...it was these Tenno before her that had saved her. Gave her this chance to choose.

 

What path would she walk?

 

“I thank you honoured Brothers and Sisters, for the aid you provided to enable me to be here before you. If you would have me, I would be honoured to stand by your sides, to repay the debt of gratitude as I am able to,” she spoke, almost on instinct. The words were just...right. Nodding slightly, the avian Tenno spoke again.

 

“Will you tell us your name, Sister?”

 

“My name is Echo, Sister.”

 

Well, I'd like to officially declare that Shadow in White will be fully engaging with Posthumanism from here on out as I outline in my theory post and basically seeing where it goes. If that isn't your thing, fair enough. Not going to lose sleep over it. What's the point in fiction if you can't ask 'What if?' in prose? So...no, Tenno in this fic are all reliant on a Warfame to have any kind of physical body if you're still wondering. Closest you're going to get are their vaguely described 'avatars' in the Ephemeral and they don't necessarily have to be human I'm afraid.

 

I would also like to point out that as great in theory a Silent Protagonist is for imprinting a character on, in practice it's a lot harder as there's so much room for interpretation. However, even when that's out of the way, we're left with some serious headaches. For one, the fact I am human does make it incredibly hard to not unwittingly humanise the Tenno character's I've established so far, so I apologise if they're too much like 'people' for some of you. Secondly, for those who may be concerned about the names, my defence is 1) Kaleen and Davis and 2) no Tenno has been named yet so free reign on what possible conventions they may follow.

 

Due to the lack of naming convention, I'm using the following system:

 

1) Tenno names are always Gender Neutral in some way, so Brother/Sister can be applied as it matters. For example, Morgan can be predicated by Brother or Sister and not be incorrect. Typically, the names are personally chosen by a Tenno as it has a meaning for them that they wish to associate with. It's also going  to help a lot when Tenno using the same Warframe crops up, in all honesty. So yes, every Tenno I name in this story as it develops will have a Meaningful Name in some form.

 

"Ember, how are you?" "I'm fine, how about you Ember?" "I'm ok-" "Not you, other Ember!" "I am Ember!"

 

2) Gender Pronouns are only applied relative to either a) The most recently used Warframe (Male=Brother, Female=Sister) until they don another one, and b) the individual Tenno's personal gender association, if they have one. And yes, Morgan being quite Gender Neutral is a character point.

 

3) The use of Brother/Sister is literally the most logical polite address I can think of for Tenno amongst themselves. Feel free to disagree.

 

On to the next point of contention I'm likely to get: The Ephemeral.

 

In light of my Posthumanism theory and account, I admittedly can't help but think in a line sort of towards Eclipse Phase and The Matrix. The Ephemeral is so named because it's basically a Tenno designed dreamscape. Maybe Void derived technology, may be digital, what matters is the following:

 

1) The Ephemeral is, as Feng demonstrates, completely malleable. It is the will and intent of the Tenno, single or plural as the case may be, to shape an instance of it. Another Tenno can impose a 'Context' on the Ephemeral in order to make communication easer, especially in the light of the recently awakened/introduced to it.

 

I mean, you wake up without a body or anything to perceive with unless you think you do. Bit of a shock.

 

2) The Ephemeral serves primarily as the Intermediary between Warframes for the posthuman Tenno; it is a safe place that their essence can occupy until the time they want/can inhabit a Warframe again. Whether a Tenno 'gets on' with this realm is...likely variable. I don't consider it impossible that some could be somewhat uncomfortable with becoming only consciousness for a time, even if they are ascetic and meditative.

 

At the moment, the Ephemeral is the most likely place for Tenno to explore something that a Warframe just isn't suited for, such as facial expression. If you can make it, why not try it? Dreams can still be experiences.

 

Right...Next on the list:

WHY DIDN'T YOU USE ORDIS!?

 

Basically, I see Ordis as Unique. So, I figured give each Liset a different Cephalon with different quirks. Morgan and Artemis works for the irony all considered. I'm sure folks clicked on that, and if not, well, never mind. It amused me at any rate.

 

Right. Now that's all out of the way...

 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.