2020-07-28: A Hound In A Cage

Players:

MikeF_icon.jpg CalebF_icon.jpg DominoF_icon.jpg

Summary: Tasked with locating the hound Caleb, Mike has finally found him alive, if not well.

Date: July 28, 2020

A Hound In A Cage

Rating: PG


The Future - The Underground

//Under the streets of New York City there are many tunnels that are long forgotten. There are many dead ends, rivers of sewage, pipes and maybe that alleged alligator. There isnt much light down here and if you dont have a flash light, youll be navigating the tunnels blind. Occasionally there is a bit of light that filters down from a storm drain. For those that dont know theyre there, its almost impossible to spot, but in spaced areas in the tunnels are markers to show those how to get to the mutant haven deep underground which is home to the redeemers and the rebellion.

After the Hunter invasion of the tunnels, there is little left of the originally occupied area, and the refugees have moved deeper and further away. The majority of the tunnels have been filled with debris, collapsed heaps of rock, concrete, dirt, and jumbled pipes that offer nothing whatsoever in the way of an accessible path. One such path, heavily guarded and disguised, leads to a place near the original underground accesses.//


After the conversation with Rashmi, the Ghost in the Machine decided to find the captured Hound of Ahab, if he could.
It took Mike Drakos a long day and a half to finally locate the information on where the Hound Caleb had been imprisoned, and another half-day to map out a route that would let him get to where the prisoner was stashed. When the tunnels came down, the converted, abandoned utility room that served as a makeshift prison, had not collapsed, but there was little in the way of access. Robotic cockroaches had swarmed through the place only an hour ago, a clattering metal infestation that trickled into the room, crawled around the circle, and then left abruptly, with only one of their number remaining behind.

Caleb has been here for a few weeks now and irritatingly due to the circle of salt around him, he can't even attempt to leave or use his powers, he can deal with the pain but he HAS to get back to his master, he has work to do, oh and theres the mind-numbing boredom of being stuck here day-after-day; he's dressed in the remander of his black jeans, his trainers and has bandages covering his torso, currently he's counting the cracks in the ceiling.

Near the entrance of the collapsed tunnels, nobody sees or hears the scouter droid. Theo had named it number 11, the flakiest, the one that Mike has customized to have the most stand-alone stealth features. It clings to a wall, watching the wreck of a Spider-Sentinel, the machine spontaneously repairing. This is not one of its normal functions. The roach-swarm scuttles into view, then crawls onto the sentinel, and melts into the machine's skin. No sound betrays the grim glee that the Ghost in the Machine feels at finding his target. He shifts part of his four-dimensional self ana-wards (up, along the fourth spatial axis) and lowers another part kata-wards; this is a set of manipulating limbs which begin reconfiguring the spider sentinel.

First things: the framework is far too shiny-metallic, and that red and blue emblem has to go. That thing isn't the REAL Spider-Man, that Omega (slave) Sentinel. Second, the armor and body are ugly and graceless, not really sleek like a spider should be. Third, Mike needs to be able to work, talk, and make a more reasonable passage. A second spider-sentinel dissolves under the rubble, causing it to shift slightly, and then the first one grows a humanoid torso where its head should be, resembling a drow-spider from an old game from the days before the country fell.
Refinements continue for a long 30 seconds: chameleoon skin field provided by image inducer. Pistons and hydraulics supplemented by metal-weave memory-cable "muscle" and micro-mesh dermal armor. Sensors on top of sensors. A human-ish face. And the whole thing is blacker than the bottom of a cave. Another movement, and the Ghost is anchored into the device, interfaces connected. It moves rubble around easily, changing the location of dozens of rocks to provide the illusion that the collaps is still collapsed - in fact, several three-ton slabs have to be moved aside (on careful pivots) for someone wanting to change that fact. It moves deeper, tunneling faster than seems possible, and leaving behind an apparently impassible mess.

The roach machine watching the captive scuttles up onto the ceiling and across several of those cracks.

Caleb is somewhere in the 900s when he hears the rubble being moved and something scuttles across the ceiling, "What the feck?", he struggles to try and stand up to get a closer look at whatevers above him, calling forth energy out of habit (none appering due to the effect of the salt).

The shifting rock noises are inevitable the first time, but the tunnels have been making noises for some good time anyway thanks to the inevitable settling in the aftermath, and Number 11 records the shocks, making a record for the Ghost on his return trip.
The door opens. Fortunately this room is large enough for several motor vehicles — it may have been used to store them at one time, considering the barred, welded-down sliding door on one side of the room, away from the entrance. Still, the drider-form has to squeeze a bit in order to enter, and does so by scuttling in a way that would make people who fear spiders very queasy. The light in the room is provided by a battery-powered LED lamp, placed outside the circle, of course. The drider-machine looks at Caleb, eyes glinting red, and shakes its head. "You look terrible."
One long, cabled arm reaches down and picks up the lamp, while the roach leaps, landing on the drider's shoulder.
"How are you feeling, Caleb?" The voice … not really familiar. Masculine, pleasant low baritone. The black, light-absorbing skin changes. Blue-white hair in Drow braidlocks is caught behind its back, while humanoid skin is merely blue-black to match the carapace of the spider-body from waist down. The face has that unearthly fey quality one would expect.

Caleb goes to take a step backwards when the thing enters the room (he is stopped however by the circle of salt surrounding him, and SPIDERS!!!, he automaticly goes into panic mode, "W…who are y..you?, and w…what d..do you w…want?", whatever that thing is, its part spider and just no spiders, please no spiders.

The drider stops short, stares, shakes his head. "Now that's interesting. Fear of spiders. Stay here and relax. Or, you have to stay here, don't you. Just sit down and calm yourself. I'll be back."
The drow-spider places the (recharged) lamp on the floor and retreats into the darkened corner, skin returning to the light-soaking black. If it wasn't for the eyes (thankfully only two of them) that glow faintly purple in the dark, it might seem like it melted into the shadows completely.
After a long minute and a half (it takes more time when you're masking your mutant power signature and making your psionic and magnetic fields look "flat") a human-framed person about seven feet tall steps out of the shadow, colors shifting back to the same blue-black. It's wearing a SHIELD uniform, but otherwise the humanoid part remains unchanged, just having regular legs and no creepy spider portion.
"Is this better?" the creature asks.

Caleb doesn't relax in the slightest and stays standing, spiders have easier access to you on the ground, why couldn't he have been given a bigger circle?, he is glad of the purple glow, it helps knowing where whatever that is is, when it reamerges he's relaxed slightly at the more humanoid body and the SHIELD uniform, "Y..yes it is".

"Good. I didn't come to terrify you. So, how are you feeling. You're moving around, so the bullet holes must be healing."
He's not stopped by salt, but he IS careful not to scuff the line as he steps inside and walks over to the Hound.
"I'd say it's good to see you again, but I can't, seeing you like this. Hold still, I'm going to check your injuries,"
The tall man lowers himself into a kneeling posture, sitting back on his feet, while reaching out to gently touch the bullet wounds, should Caleb not object.

Caleb nods, "Yes they're healing, they'd be healing better if i could phase the bullets out, but due to my salty prison i can't phase", he allows the man to check the injuries, it would just be stupid to resist help.

"Yes, well, I can't take the chance that you'd go back to your enslaver. Also, be happy that this bullet," and purple-glowing eyes look into Caleb's face as a long-fingered left hand touches a spot under the ribcage, "this bullet here, it kept you from bleeding out. I'm going to leave it there for now, but the others, I can remove."
He does nothing obvious, but each of the non-critical bullets disappears… small chunks of metal slide ana-wards along the fourth dimension to be transformed into fuel or parts.
"Your blood test is nearly done," the Drow says, "and it tastes terrible. You need more and better food but we're already on short rations after your side destroyed our supplies. By the way, have you heard anything from Dingo?"

Caleb raises an eybrow, "Ok, what the hell just happened, other than the one you pointed out, a bunch of the bullets have gone, and i was not enslaved i am happy to serve my master", as he's conditoned to, "Wait you can taste my blood? how?, and it probably tastes wrong cos it's not normal blood", Dingo?, why does that name sound familier, "No ones spoken to me since i was brought here".

"Of course I can taste your blood, how else would I know whether you've got an infection. Which, miracle of miracles, you do not."
No answer is given to the query about the bullets, just a bland sort of half-smile. A distraction was needed, though, while the Ghost went over Caleb's bandages and cleaned them of blood and filth, and repaired the damage to his clothing, weaving them together as if transforming a vehicle. It wasn't going to be as easy, making food and drink, but still not impossible.
"I'm going to watch to make sure you don't start bleeding again. While I do that, how about you tell me how you met your," and the word is filled with distant distaste and obvious sneer-quotes, "Master."

"I've served my master for a long time now, i don't really remember how or when i began serving him, all i know is i exist to do his bidding and capture the…", Caleb is actully having trouble finishing that sentance, he is his masters loyal hound, but the rebels did help him.

Strange, Mike thinks. Ahab's hounds were famous for their bondage gear, but this one isn't in leather. Probably something to do with the magic wrist things. The damage to the jeans is relatively easy to repair, the bandages are cleaned. As Caleb talks, the Drow passes his hands over the apparent teen's body, and there's a sudden tingling, almost tickling, as the detritus of being a human is removed: dead skin flakes, bacteria, random dirt. Blech. Especially that hair - it seems to WANT to be greasy, but at least it doesn't have to smell bad. All those little bits of mattter moved ana-wards, it all turns into energy for the Ghost to use. The bandages are clean and white again, hopefully not to become red and black with new blood.

At the entrance, Drone Number 11 relays a message to its brothers, via indirect and untraceable optical signal lines buried at various places through the city. (Theo was a busy little mad scientist, and Mike has taken advantage of his groundwork.)
Drone Number 4 finds Domino, and reports, or rather, Mike's holographic image appears. "Found Caleb Hound. Still alive, in the bunker, use secondary entrance, you will be guided in."

Patrol of the tunnels was slow, lackadaisical; and to accent that a yawn stretched dark stained lips while one hand rubbed over her tattoo encircled eye. Waking was a slow and painful process anymore, and after rinsing her face she was back shuffling down the tunnels, pausing before the entry of a new one with a slow blink and a rub at her other eye. "I sleep and either I forget this tunnel or we have busy gophers.." That ending was accented by the arrival of Drone 4 and the recognizable image of Mike. He shoulders slumped in a bit of relief as she followed him through. Relief for Caleb or relief it wasn't another attack? The world may never know.

Caleb watches as his clothes fix and bandeges clean, he's seen something like that before, thats right his Dad's done something like that before, hmmm he hasn't though about him in a while, he turns to look in the direction of Domino's footsteps.

When Drone #4 reaches the entrace to the side tunnel, it looks blocked, but there are some hinge points where the slabs just turn aside when pressed in just the right place, and it points that out to Domino. On reaching the old utility room - now prison cell - the drone clamps to the wall. Mike's hologram-image appears for a brief moment and says, "Call me Ghost, I don't want them knowing my name yet."
The door opens without any sound (an improvement over its previous state.)
A seven-foot-tall, blue-black-skinned humanoid is inside the salt-circle. Male, apparently, with blue-white hair in dreadlock-braids tied back, and wearing a SHIELD uniform. Cadet branch. With the Barnes duty patch on the left side. It's in the 'seiza' sitting position and seems to be doing some kind of repair to the Hound, or at least to his clothes.
"Hello, Domino," he says, without turning his head. "Our friend is alive but not particularly well. I've been preparing a standard emergency ration, but I think it would be good if we can extend this circle outwards a bit so he can walk. What do you think?"

Slate blue gaze settled and took in the way the door opened, tilting her head only slightly as Mike spoke and nodded.
"Ghost, but not Casper…Got ya." Lips pursed slightly but failed in trying to keep any small smile from her lips in the prodding jest.
When the door opened she stepped within and narrowed her gaze in observation of the two within, stepping to the side and leaning against the wall to stay out of anyones way and observe the overall picture. Domino was wearing her blue and black body suit, her Browning's still in their home within shoulder harness, around her waist was the tac belt and just below was another harness holding the new additions of the RFA machine pistols, the barrels just above thigh straps that held throwing daggers. Tucked into the tac belt was the plasma hand cannon that needed fixed, despite being broken she kept it on her, very much the hoarder of armaments. Across her back was the HK and swinging it around and off she set it aside, finally moving a bit closer to Caleb and… Ghost counterpart?
"I see no problems with the circle widening, he wont do any good to us or himself if he just sits and atrophies."

"First time i've had a rebel call me a friend", Caleb gives a sarcastic wave to Domino, "Hey it's the gun lady, how goes?", he's actully feelin a lot better now ghost has cleaned him up, still he needs to get outta here.

"Nothing is going to re-open soon as long as you don't jar that remaining bullet in the rib area, and like I said, that one can make you bleed out fast. You need to be more active, but no excitement, and no running back to slavemaster for a while either," the apparent Drow says, and stands to his full seven-foot height, smiling a blinding smile at Domino. He gestures towards the dark end of the room away from the small LCD candle which has been keeping this room lit, since otherwise no light filters in from anywhere. In the far corner where the shadows are thickest, Domino might be able to make out the inert form of a rather disconnected-looking Spider-Sentinel done over in jet-black.
He picks up the chamberpot and the detritus from the energy-bar wrappers left behind, and the empty water jug, and (without breaking the salt-circle) the robot in holographic disguise carries them over to the spider-chassis.
"I'll need to make salt," Ghost explains, as the contents of the chamberpot and the other garbage disappear into nowhere. Grist for the mill, speaking of which: "I can emulate the Sampo well enough with the right inputs, but it does take time to grind this stuff. Is that pulse blaster functioning?" (Ooh, shiny!)

To Caleb's sarcastic wave one hand rose and Domino's pale fingers rose and fell in a motion like a wave in response, a forced smile flashed his way but quickly dissipating to neutrality. "Can't find any tea to start the day, or coffee, it goes…On empty apparently." When Mike gestured her eyes slowly peeled from Caleb in their still distrustful watch, to look towards the darkened area of the room.

"How much of it is salvageable? I figured most were crushed." The blast to seal off the old area did its toll, it was a wonder Caleb was still there, let alone alive considering he had been lost track of. Leaning over the spider sentinel her booted toe inches forward and nudges it. Lower lip pursed out and exhaled a long sigh to blow some of the long stray strands of hair from her face. Looking back to Mike as he spoke about the salt and glanced back over her shoulder towards Caleb. "Of all things we need to make salt for, curious thorn for you." Domino spoke the final words to Caleb of his 'weakness.'
Brows furrowed when Mike asked about the blaster and then realization seemed to hit. "Oh…this.." She drew it from its tuck in her tac belt and held it to him. "No, I was told it needed repair, though once functional, how would it work with me is another question." Considering it seemed to function with Arsenal. "Think you could Ghost?"

"Running back to slav…., can't you see Ahab is trying to help make the world what it was?, thank you for helping me, but i have to go help fix things", Caleb pokes at the area that still houses a bullet, "Salt is an irritating weakness".

"And he made the world what it is, all right. Hell on earth for any mutant, people starving in the streets of every major city in this country, death squads murdering people in their homes, not to mention changing several of my friends into nearly brainless lackeys."
The Drow snaps back, irritable. Apparently being a ghost doesn't grant complete detachment … or maybe he's testing the Hound's brainwashing, looking for seams.
Sitting back against the Spider-Sentinel chassis, Ghost takes the lid off the now-pristine-and-empty chamberpot. One of the sentinel legs lifts off the ground, and grain by grain, salt begins to drift down from it. Not a particularly challenging procedure, really, something that can be run nearly automatically. The Drow looks at the blaster, running hands over it.
"I see. Designed to run off bio-electrical energy, makes a plasma bolt in the chamber here, focus and direction, most of this can be adapted, but I'd need to come up with a power supply. I wasn't a marksman when I was alive, so now it's all done by computer. You'll have to tell me if you need anything changed like balance or targeting support. It doesn't have a gunsight, as such. May I hold it?"
Another grin, bright white in the darkness, and this Drow chassis has hands that feel warmer than air-temperature, covered with something very like actual skin.

Hearing Caleb pipe up to defend Ahab and speak of him, a brow winged up on the pale rise of forehead and gaze snapped over towards him, fingers tapped in an idle twitch over her hips. A choking motion in the making of just erasing the itch to pull the trigger at that name. One of the two, or both but the irritation was immediate and evident despite the stoicism her face still held. Her words came out as if a feminine echo off Mike's, but belying the calm her face kept. "You have to be what…25? Give or take, do you even remember what the world was like before Ahab, or did he reprogram those memories as well? What good leader kills innocents and children?" A derisive snort passed nostrils and she looks back towards what Mike was working on, watching the salt fall from the spider leg it almost reminded her of sand falling through the funnel of a timer.
Looking away and then up to Ghost she nodded and offered the blaster to him, releasing when he took hold. "I can adapt to whatever you need to get it working, inserts, addition to armor, whatever you may need. It may seem like a bit of a trial but it is far more effective then the incendiaries I have to scavenge to buy for a pretty penny."

The Drow-bot — or possibly Drow-Borg, as he seems now to be actually connecting to the Spider-Sentinel as cables move from it to attach to the ends of his dreadlock-braids — looks into nowhere with blank purple-glowing eye-spaces, for a moment.
"It seems to be designed to work on pulsed energy rather than on continual beam, collects and shapes a plasma ball, It seems to be variable yield… what have you seen him do with this thing?"

Domino seemed to be rather studious of the connection to the ends of dread locks, the whole thing something she had still yet to get used to when it came to the advancement in technology and the people involved in it. She adapted well enough but still stared at it quizzically when time allowed, there were always goign to be things she'd ever have a curiousity for. When asked what she had seen when it came to Arsenal working the weapon her lips twisted and brows furrowed in thought.
"To be completely honest, this is Greek to me. I know it packs far more of a punch than my HK loaded with explosive rounds. I would not be surprised if it held some connection to his arm whie in use, but aside from that, it is superior than the collective on me at this moment."

Caleb looks down, two contradicting thoughts, on the one hand he is completely loyal to Ahab, on the otherhand killing children is WRONG, no matter what way he looks at it, he has some memories of before and the world wasn't that bad, either way he has no answer for them.

A glance over at the Hound, and back down at the chamberpot, still only about 1/4 full. It will need to be completely full to fill the circle he's prepared to inscribe. Ghost waves over at Caleb.
"What flavor of granola bar do you want?" Well, granola bar is almost right. It's People Chow - carbohydrates, fiber, vitamins and minerals, fat, and protein, 350 calories per packet, entirely cruelty-free since they're copies of small bits of matter that Mike has slipped into a pocket in his wasp-avatar. He's been generating the stuff during his meditation periods for the remaining mutants, but since he's also generating other things for the rebellion, it's never enough.

"I think I can come up with a way for you to charge it. Will get back to you." Ghost hands the blaster back to Domino then freezes for a moment. A sense of oppressive quiet fills the room as Ghost looks up. "Sh. Scans incoming. Lying to them." Even the LCD lamp seems muted, flickering faintly.

Domino's eyes bounced from one to the next, over Mike to what he was doing and then to Caleb who was suddenly in some form of thought. Perhaps over their words that were spit like venom at him over Ahab? Domino did not know what to make of Hounds, they seemed to be a whole other breed of robot from Hunters, but in the end they all seemed the same. "I can ask about more precise specs in regards to this if it will help." She took back the cannon and looked over it before tucking it back into place, freezing save for the upward roll of her eyes towards the ceiling when Mike spoke of the scanning.

Caleb shrugs at Ghost, "I don't mind, i'll take whatever you have to offer", Ghost and Domino's words can't make him doubt his master, but they can make him doubt his own actions, "Children?"

"… … And they're past. Sentinel overflight. They got nothing anomalous," Ghost says. Happily, he doesn't know Domino is considering the Hounds and Hunters to be robots, because, what an insult to robots! So instead of huffy mock-offense, he shrugs, to Domino.
"No need to check with him, I already have his systems mapped. I'll be making repairs there later, which means I need to find and consume some more machinery. Should be a few more of these," and he taps the spider-leg next to him, still grinding salt out of nowhere into the pot.
At Caleb's reply, though, Ghost looks over, purple gaze steady and unblinking. "Yes. Children. Now that you've hunted down and killed or enslaved the adult mutants, the only ones left are the ones being born to the regular people, and they'll continue being born, maybe even at a faster rate. So yes, you'll be made to hunt and kill children. Better you stay here a bit longer, yes?"

"I don't know what we'd do without you Ghost.. Besides fight and die." The words were breathed out with the release of air and a flicker of Domino's eyes towards him and then back to the spider sentinel - now salt shaker.
"I can go hunt for more of them if needed." Anything to change the pace from wandering the tunnels aimlessly to at least playing where's the remnants and doing something useful. When Caleb asked about children Domino nodded, a small gesture towards Mike as he spoke in emphasis as she did, picking up where he left off. "You really think that the design of Ahab leaves out children and puppies and kittens? Kiddo, what rainbow have you been following because I have not seen one in over 5 years."

Caleb is finding it hard to think straight, two huge parts of his are conflicting, his undying loyalty to Ahab and his horror at killing children, the Domino mentions rainbows and an old memory fills his head, his brother telling him he's hunting for Lepricauns.

"Thanks, Domi. I think there might be some in the Y street offshoot, that's where they dropped the roof on the last batch, Be careful though. There's just this little bit of tunnel here, and the rest can only be reached from above ground."
The salt has filled the chamberpot, and Ghost stands up, the cables on the Spider-Sentinel chassis detatching from his braids. He lifts the pot and its glistening white cargo, large crystalline flakes, and walks to the circle. Focussing on the floor, an odd sense of movement as two manipulating-arms move kata-wards intersecting a point just outside the circle. A brilliant but oddly colored light begins to glow pinpoint from the concrete slab floor, and he walks backwards describing a larger circle nearly tangent to the one trapping Caleb. A shallow trench, less than an inch across, forms along the circle. Salt, he dumps down, into it, and it fills and compacts a bit, moving (apparently) on its own and becoming solid along the bottom.

"I am sure amongst the concaved ground I will find what is needed. I'll be careful, as always." A wavering smile was offered towards Mike as she took the few steps back towards the door, carefully avoiding stepping in the way of the new routing of salt for Caleb.
Glancing back towards Caleb she had a hard time trying to be carefully neutral and nice to him, but then again, she thoght of him as another casualty of war, but one left alive. His mask of thought and silence though showed that some part of what she and Mike had said had some small form of effect. Reaching the door she pressed at certain points, using her body to shield what she was doing from Caleb's eyes if they ever rose, and stepped out.

Caleb's head is so conflicted that all he can actully think about at this point is his brother attempting to hunt lepricauns, he barely notices the new circle of salt, and is half smiling at the picture in his head.

The second ring of salt is quickly finished. Ghost steps inside the first one, putting a hand on Caleb's shoulder, and says, in Tolkien Elvish, that Gaelic-flavored tongue, "expand and reinforce," and then (because he's sweeping it outward using his fourth-dimensional manipulating limbs to just barely touch three-space) the salt ring expands, touching and blending into the larger ring, and it's done. This is a perfect circle, about half again as large inside. The clean chamberpot, he places next to two jugs filled with water, which were inside the larger circle when it was inscribed. The salt circle is protected from spills by the dual track, one to catch and direct away such things.
The Drow says, "What are you thinking about?" and walks back toward the spider chassis. He sits against it again, and the arm that had generated salt (or seemed to) begins weaving something else, taking a bit longer to take recognizable shape.

Caleb only notices his circle getting bigger when Ghost puts his hand on his sholder and catches him off guard with his question, "I was just thinking about my twin hunting lepricauns", he takes a few steps around his bigger circle, "Thats a lot better".

"Leprechauns? Did you ever find one?" Ghost seems distracted, though, gaze focussed on something visible only in his thoughts. A moment of quiet ensues. Then he speaks again, "Also, don't try phasing. It'll still kill you with that bullet, and I blessed the circle so it won't let you pass even if you did manage to pull it off."
The spider finishes spinning. It looks something like linked bratwurst, and the Ghost sniffs at one. "Bleh. Well, I'm still no Cam in the kitchen." He hands them to Caleb.
"One of these, twice a day. All the calories and nutrition you can stand. Well, not really, it's barely subsistence, but I won't be able to come back until day after tomorrow at the earliest. I'll make sure someone stops by though."
The Drow returns to his spider, and says, "Best look away. I'm going to be doing something you won't like. Oh, the skins are edible."
And he steps up and MERGES with the spider, the machinery changing back to the more organic form as he does so. Jet blackness conceals all details again.
"I can't phase in the circle anyway, but i can phase the bullet with me if i could," and no he didn't but he's not one to stop trying. Caleb grins at the tought and takes the offered food, "Thanks Ghost, when i get out of here, i will find a way to save you without hurting anyone", unless his master orders him to (he cannot not to what Ahab commands), he turns quickly to avoid seeing the spider again.

"Hm." The voice from the Drider at the door is pensive. "You're too late to save me from dying, Caleb. In any case, it's not me that needs saving. Try to remember everything you can about your brother, your father, and your childhood. I'll see you when I can."
At that, the machine slips out the door, closing it behind. The scout-drone outside steps onto his back, and Ghost moves though the carefully blocked tunnel, leaving it looking as rubble-strewn and blocked as it was before.

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