Eurus rides above the speed limit to arrive at the Ultra Tower as fast as possible, zipping past the traffic that whizzes around him. Bobbing and weaving, he tries to raise Paskal on his comm-device. Since he receives no response, the city and its bustling weight of interwoven lives fade into the background in Eurus’ mind and a thought creeps up from the back of his mind. He can’t shake the feeling that larger forces are at play than he realizes. As if he was part of a larger pattern which if he identified would lay out everything that has happened and everything that’s going to happen. Until he can identify this pattern, he must accept the possibility of riding directly into a trap. And though Cells have been created to fight themselves out of inhumane conditions and survive, this time it’s not a few mindless mutants or drug addicts. Ultra is the only organization that is hypothetically capable of capturing Cells thanks to their sheer weight of available necessities for any situation. As DRF laid out, he will be waiting – could this be the end of the line?
In order to avoid being captured or being outgunned or being sent packing with empty hands, he sends out a requisition order to Cell HQ for additional forces. He encrpyts it for Cells he trusts and has worked with in the past. Though Caste Erebus is immaculate in its conduct and reputation, there’s an outside chance of his message being intercepted or any number of Cells having compromised transmission instruments, for whatever reason that may be. As it is pending, the black cilinder of Ultra starts revealing itself into view from behind vertical landscape of Papülonis.
Eurus pitches his statbike upwards and starts riding towards the top of the tower. He sends a message to Honors, requesting access to all information she might have on the schematics of Ultra. Though technically under the juristiction of Martis, Ultra Central Command is what each Ultra tower reports to first. Just a few seconds later, he receives the schematics with a note that reads:
“I found out everything I can about Kalopsia, Cells and Ultra. It turns out Ultra on Mars has made several requests of lenience for creating Cells. Each one so far has been denied, being confirmed by Ultra Central Command but getting rejected by the Terram governor. The last one however is still pending response. They were made by their bioengineering department, by a man named Dr. Mendel. I looked at everything I could about him but there’s nothing about him on Imperial databases. I suspect it might be a cover name or their bioengineering classified on a level above even my paygrade. Furthermore, I’m ready to set the Martian military on high alert and to initiate an Imperial quick response. All of this reads very shady. Don’t take anything at face value and be careful, Eurus.”
Eurus arrives at the top level of Ultra Command. He parks his statbike on the vehicle balcony and is greeted by two Ultra operatives in full tactical gear. When he dismounts he tells him that he has an Imperial Warrant from War Martial Honors and he’s requesting to see commanding officer Olman. The men guide him in. As they start to walk away from the vehicle bay, two more statbikes land on it, and two other Cells in full combat gear dismount. The Ultra operatives look at each other and though their eyes are concealed, this look has a distinct note of concern in it.
One of them is Astraeus who is an older Cell from when the Machine Wars were at their height. Though not as refined in some aspects as Eurus, he’s still formidable due to his experience and his physiology is similar. The other one is Boreas. He’s from Eurus’ generation has exactly the same specs as him. He’s just as refined as Eurus and he shares every capability with Eurus. Their masks pop open, revealing their faces to Eurus, who feels a slight wave of relief wash over him. Astraeus has a distinct scar on his right brow and cheek he got from a thrasher machine back in 2079. He also has a moustache and his appearance is similar to British commandos of WWII. Eurus greatly looks up to him as Astraeus is almost 20 years older than him and has taught Eurus a lot throughout their encounters. Boreas is what might be called by other Cells a pretty boy. Though his body has scars, he has not been tarnished with them on his face. His high cheekbones and ashen hair make him a fair pull for the gentler kind. Astraeus calls out:
“Eurus! How’s Papülonis been treating you?”
“Astraeus,” says Eurus.
Boreas and Eurus simply send each other a meaningful nod. They begin walking towards the entrance of the building. He activates the neural communication interface to communicate with his brethren and thinks to them:
“I’ve discovered attempts to create Cells by an Ultra scientist with the pseudonym “Dr. Frankenstein”, real name being Dr. Mendel. However I’m not sure this is accurate either. Right now I’m unaware whether or not this has been sanctioned by Ultra Command.” He uploads his findings and documents sent over by Martial Honors for the two to read as well.
Astraeus: “Troubling… We can’t risk the Caste’s secrets falling into the wrong hands. Are you sure this is true?”
Eurus: “I’m certain. A challenge was also issued to me personally. It’s not unlikely that I’ve met this individual before, leaving some sort of impression. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that we’re dealing with a rogue faction within Ultra and further it’s within the realm of possibilities that this Dr. Frankenstein is someone with intricate knowledge of our operations. Furthermore, judging by the progress made by a policeman – and a friend - who is investigating a case parallel to this, it seems like the threads converge.”
Boreas: “Is he here too?”
Eurus: “Unknown. I failed to establish a line of communication with him.”
Astraeus: “No time to waste then.”
They arrive at the entrance. A blast door capable of withstanding a direct hit from a barrage of fire from a line of artillery opens. It’s clear to the trio that it’s likely they may need to fight their way out if things go sideways and they won’t be able to leave through the conventional exits.
When they enter, the room they’re in is large and hosts several operatives and officials. The walls are also decorated with red and black memorabilia and made out of marble with intricate carvings. Flags of the Ultra are placed periodically, hanging from the ceilings which are a few meters high – unusual for this and other government buildings otherwise. They’re lead by the operatives through several heavy doors until they reach a hallway. It’s also made out marble and it’s fully lit, with a red carpet on the floor. Halfway there are three doors to elevators. At the end of it is another blast door, which opens as they approach.
The threshold reveals a big office, but with granite floors and walls instead. Several meters in there’s an old white desk made out of ivory. Behind it in a cushy chair sits a man with a mechanical eye.
Commander Olman is a man with a meaty face, strong jaw and he’s tall for a human, at 6 foot 8. He’s wearing a black uniform with no medals. He keeps them on the wall behind him. Not a lot is known by the public about him but everything about him screams ruthless. He is burned on the one side of his face from his left cheek down to his neck. Doctors could easily fix it but Ultra and other officials with military background often wear them as badges of honor. He stands up from his desk and motions for the operatives to stay outside, remaining silent himself.
Eurus says: “Commander Olman. I have troubling information which I hope you could elaborate on.”
Olman still doesn’t speak.
“Do you know the individual Dr. Mendel?”
Olman nods.
“What is his role exactly as the head of bioengineering department?”
Finally the commander speaks with a calm voice: “He conducts biological research necessary for the continuation of the species and for the security interests of the Solar empire.”
“What would be an example of that?”
“You’re not privileged to this information,” he says monotonously.
“I assume you’re not aware but we have considerable evidence that he’s been attempting to create Cells. This directly contradicts the Solar Codex and compels us to investigate. Due to the nature of this research it also invokes the Cell Codex which mandates any attempts at creating more Cells would be ended in a prompt manner.”
“I see. Yes, he has been requesting permission to do this, but so far it’s been rejected. I fail to see how he could do this without the necessary liberties granted by the Solar government.”
Eurus hears Astraeus in his mind: “He can’t be serious. The man is playing with us. Ask him if he’s denying us access to Dr. Mendel.”
Eurus says to Olman: “Are you denying us access to Dr. Mendel?”
Olman says: “Not at all. However seeing as I can’t grant you access to any part of the bioengineering department, I can’t help you either.”
Boreas says: “We will access the bioengineering department with or without you. Unless you want to pour every drop of blood in this building to stopping us, and unless you mean to yield your position as Ultra commander for directly violating Solar AND Cell Codeces, I suggest you tell us where he is and you send us on our merry way to him.”
Olman remains silent, clearly weighing his options.
“Very well, have it your way. You can reach him on the 88<sup>th</sup> level via the elevator in the hallway. An operative will meet you there.”
“Good,” says Astraeus.
They walk out of the office and when they arrive at the elevators, their doors open to them. Astraeus, Boreas and Eurus walk in and the doors close. The elevator begins to quickly descend, counting numbers from 1066,…1055, …299. Suddenly the elevator buckles and stops. Boreas has taken command of the elevator controls by directly interfering with the specifically designed computer systems governing that elevator using his wrist mounted equipment.
The Cells look at each other and use their shoulder mounted weaponry to blast the ceiling of the elevator, leaving holes where they jump out using their jump packs and boost boots. Just as they do that, the elevator itself falls to the pit below them – someone had given it a command to terminate.
Seeing as they might need to cling to the walls for over two hundred floors, they decide to enter the building and proceed on foot and fight through whatever Ultra throws at them.
---------------------------------
The day at Ultra HQ started like any other for Captain Nikol Sacris when he left his apartment in Tower N9-39 to go to work. He is what is known as an Enforcer Operative and as we would understand it, he deals with physical threats to the organization and in other words he’s a bespoke combat operative. He’s a big, stocky guy, with a body like a linebacker. After a half an hour in traffic, he arrives at his vehicle bay, where after a series of biometric checks he’s finally allowed to park and go to work. His day started off quiet – seemed like the City is tame for once.
The combat section of Ultra HQ looks like any other military installation. Guards, stops, barracks and the mess hall. There are also entertainment facilities for the operatives and places to do combat training. There are areas where the soldiers can simulate any part of the greater Solar Empire and prepare for battle in that environment.
He begins his morning tasks and rituals – first he needs to check out his gear at the armory. It’s where he goes first. The armory is a giant warehouse-like structure within the Ultra HQ, which is filled to the brim with exosuits, weaponry, grenades and other types of equipment an operative may need. The door he enters from is at the center of one wall of the armory, and from his point of view the shelves are stacked high. Straight between them though, at the center of the armory itself, there is a large desk with several clerks.
When he arrives there, he passes them his operative ID. The clerk says: “Captain Sacris, your equipment awaits you in room 5A”.
The armory has fitting cabinets similar to those of Cells where some of the arming process is automated and all of the delivery process is automated. He finds his fitting cabinet 5A and enters it. He walks to the center of the room which is when machine arms reach out from the walls and start assembling his standard equipment around him.
He is coated with a titanium-kevlar mesh armor which is useful against all types of damage and around his head a helmet attatches with a visor which displays useful information about his objective, weapons, vitals and provides visibility across additional spectrums of light. Once his equipment is operational, he starts walking to the training area of Ultra where operatives practice for forseeable engagements or do basic training in order to really cement what they’ve learned such that it becomes second nature.
Before he arrives though, his audio-communication device activates and a voice starts blaring into his ears “Code Red Alpha - All Captains, assemble platoons at battlestations – Code Red Alpha – All Captains…”. On his visor, a note appears about the location of his battlestation from his and the shortest path to it. He deactivates the audio of the alert and contacts his platoons via his audio-communication device:
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“All combat operatives from B2-B3 assemble at location.”
His voice is calm and relaxed as he relays the orders to his subordinates. However within he feels a slight tingle of fear. Code Red means that the Ultra HQ has been breached by hostile forces. The addition of Alpha means that the hostiles are Cells. Even though he has trained to take Cells down, there is a distinct margin of error within those training manuals because so few have actually survived their encounters with the super soldiers. The abundancy of the data, or lack thereof, is instrumental to any process of preparations. When he arrives at his battlestation, and sees his platoon there too, armed to the teeth with several iron-clad operatives to boot, he finds a bit of his confidence. Suddenly his and his platoon’s communications devices blaring:
“We need assistance. Level 109, we’ve encountered the enemy. B3-C19 requesting *xchxhchx*”.
“Roger that, B3-C12 answering request – we’ll be there in 2 minutes.”
B2-B3 are getting a bit more anxious as they’re on level 110. After a few minutes have gone by, they can hear fighting on the floors below. Gunfire and screams of men, thumping on the floors and walls below all muffled by the concrete holding up the intelligence monstrocity. The fighting downstairs starts to decline in intensity and volume until complete silence only interrupted by the nervous breathing of Ultra operatives is breaking the otherwise still air.
Captain Sacris takes his communication device and says: “This is Captain Sacris of the Ultra B2 Company. I’m requesting two auto-cannons and backup as fast as possible.”
A woman’s voice is heard back in the device: “Roger that, Captain Sacris, T minus 4 minutes.”
--------------------
“Alright boys, stay calm, autocannons are on the way,” says Captain Sacris, “as soon as they arrive, can we take those fuckers out.”
T minus 3 minutes.
T minus 2 minutes.
The lights go out. Captain Sacris’ crew switches on their night vision goggles thinking the ruse played by the Cells completely and utterly pointless.
“Watch the door boys,” says Captain Sacris.
T minus 1 minute.
Suddenly the lights turn back on, but very quickly they go so bright that they burn out their bulbs but not before completely blinding Captain Sacris’ squad.
“Ahh shit,” exclaims a few of them as they try to get their goggles off only to realize that they’re still in complete darkness.
“FUCK WHAT THE HELL??” scream other few as they begin panicking.
Captain Sacris can hear the backup team running already on the other side of the hallway, he tries to call out to them “Be with night goggles, they’re messing…”
Suddenly he hears running, and he’s blinded once more by several light sources now coming from quietly thrown flashlights by the trio of Cells. As a last resort he opens fire, but he can’t do anything without his eyesight and he hears his team being devoured by the Cells cutting through them like literally nothing. Screams and struggling from the men fill the room as a blade makes contact with them and cracks of light and smoke as the Bull rifles mow them down. Before he can even think about starting to run, for a split second he feels a hand on his throat and that’s when he realizes that he’s just been disemboweled.
As Boreas holds Captain Sacris’ heart in his hand, Eurus and Astraeus switch off their strobe lights. They too, can hear that they’re about to be swarmed from the end of the hallway by a huge squad of Ultra operatives who have no idea that their compatriots are no longer alive. With a single look of understanding do they leap towards where the backup team thinks they’re going to enter freely.
As soon as the team opens the door to a stairwell not easily openable for Eurus, Boreas and Astraeus on their own, aside from melting it or cutting through it some way, does the trio yank the door open and go on a killing spree. Each has a minutely different style of fighting. While the soldiers above them are attempting to lob grenades and fire pot shots at any of the trio, most of their attempts are flicked aside or countered with a headshot to themselves. Any Ultra operative who might happen to be within reach of the genetically engineered killing machines instantly finds a vital part of their body ripped to shreds. The organized descent for the Ultra operatives ended up being a stampede out of the stairwell as they saw their compatriots being ripped to shreds with their very own eyes. And yes, the whole ordeal is happening with the Ultra operatives wearing night vision goggles. All they see are flashes and their friends guts flying all across their fields of vision. The slow creep of dread as they realize that any attempt for them to stop their assailers is completely pointless no matter what they think their training might tell them to do or how to proceed.
The majority of the troops initially attempting to flood the stairwell are now running over each other to escape it to avoid becoming another statistic. There’s no need to follow them for Eurus and his two compatriots. Their intended effect of fear has been adequately instilled within their enemy.
Eurus, Boreas and Astreus chip away at the resistance, using their guns, grenades and tactics to maximum effect. The main mistake that the Ultra operatives make throughout these 200 floors that the trio must traverse is that they assume that a Cell or Cells would act like a very smart or a genius level human. Instead, Cells can act completely alien to a human’s understanding. In carrying out their mission, especially when dictated by a Codex, they are completely ruthless and use whatever advantage they can think of against any human or other foe. It’s like fighting a chimpanzee as a pro fighter. Yes, the human is bigger, and probably would be stronger due to his size advantage. However humans are used to fists, legs and elbows and such hitting them. The chimpanzee will immediately blind you, castrate you and rip your arms/hands off. That’s what fighting a Cell is like but instead of besting you physically, you have no real way of preparing for their attack.
The stairwell is a flickering of a malfunctining night vision goggles for the average Ultra soldier there. The few fair glimpses that he does see are of his friends being ripped to shreds and an unstoppable roar of destruction heading his way. There is no pause or break in the actions of the Cells they were supposed to stop. Just because they happen to be in the way and they happen to demonstrate some lethal intent, the Cells rip through them without a second thought or mercy.
And yes, the Ultra organization has been trying for centuries now to create contingency plans against a Cell uprising. Firstly, the Cells would never stage an uprising like what the Ultra might imagine or sell to their higher-ups. If the Cells were intent on staging a revolution, it would just happen, no questions asked. The right safeguarding people would unexpectedly die as if struck by a genie, the right people would storm a capitol, the right people would end up as the only viable option for power etc etc. If Cells aren’t toppling now, there’s no reason to assume they would unless you are planning to provoke them by going against humanity’s best interests. And also, Ultra’s plans for countering Cells are useless because the data they have are of rare Cell deaths and mostly caused by a sudden artillery strike not knowable for the Cell they study from.
These encounters for the Cells happen all the time as they move down the 200 floor drop to their destination. The Ultra brass just keeps sending more and more troops for the Cells to handle, but each opponent gets dealt with swiftly and with no reservations for brutality.
- A half an hour ago -
As a last ditch effort to at least carve out a hollow victory, Commander Olman chooses to call for a press conference. He’s been made aware of the situation near the base of the Ultra tower deteriorating fast and that Eurus, Boreas and Astraeus were not in fact taken out by the elevator drop and are now cutting through their forces at a blistering rate. As the losses mount, he is handed security footage of three blurs moving at imperceptibly fast speeds, cutting through every line of defense the teams in their way thought they had.
After a few minutes have passed, the first journalists and press representatives are arriving at Ultra’s press briefing room. They’re sitting a little anxiously because it’s uncommon for Ultra to stage such gatherings out of the blue. Usually these kinds of events happen when a planetary republic has gone rogue or when some disaster is right around the corner. Commander Olman stands at the podium and activates a screen to his right, showing live footage of three Cells killing every Ultra operative in their way. There’s footage of the soldiers fleeing, edited on the fly in such a way that it seems the Cells are on a killing spree and chasing them whereas in reality, Eurus and his compatriots have no real reason to kill anyone who chooses to not resist. Nevertheless, a few of the journalists present gasp at the sight. Feeling confident, the Commander makes his statement:
“Members of the press, people of the Empire, I’m Commander Olman. As you can see to my right, we as an organization have come under siege by a rogue force. A force, created in hubris by our predecessors to fight a great foe, true, but that has now spiraled out of our control. I call for the immediate action of outlawing the Cell Circuits on Martis due to their violent and senseless attack on Ultra.”
A few hands rise from the crowd of journalists.
“Yes, the gentleman in the front row,” says Olman.
“Why are they attacking Ultra?” asks the journalist.
“Well, it’s hard to say, exactly. I suspect it’s because they know we are the first line of defense for humanity and taking us out is perhaps their first step,” says Olman.
The crowd murmurs for a moment. Another, older hand is raised.
“Yes,” says Olman and points at the older journalist.
“Commander Olman, with all due respect, I don’t understand. Are you saying the Cells are attacking humanity?”
“Yes, as you can see…” Olman says.
“I have had first hand experience interacting with a Cell in my years,” says the older gentleman, “I have never been treated with anything but respect and servitude. I know also how effective a single Cell, nevermind three, can be. Sorry, Commander, but your words ring hollow to my ears.”
“Why is that?” Olman asks, showing very subtle cracks in his otherwise confident demeanor.
“You’re still alive. I would’ve guessed you’d be the first to perish if your hypothesis was correct. Why are the Cells really here?” asks another, younger woman journalist.
“I have no idea how Cells view what’s best for humanity. Perhaps they feel like attacking one of its core institutions is something justifiable. They’re too dangerous to have us simply take them at their word,” Olman says.
“So not to end humanity? Seeing as the Cell Codex clearly instructs a Cell to act in the best interests of humanity and you’re fighting them as we speak, is it fair to assume that your actions were not perhaps, in the eyes of the super soldiers at least, in the best interests of humanity?” says the older man again.
“By senselessly killing our sons and daughters?”
“I don’t know what you’re leaving out, Commander. It’s clear to me that there is more at stake than what you’re letting on. What was the point of this conference if you can tell us no truthful thing?”
An operative signals something to Olman, to which he says:
“This conference is concluded. Thank you for attending, ladies and gentlemen.”
The crowd of journalists remains, with them a mix of confusion and curiosity hanging in the air. If Olman is truly fighting the Cells right now, claiming they have anything but humanity’s best interests at heart, it raises a deeper question: How many times before, when Ultra claimed to have killed a Cell in defense of mankind, were things really as they said? History as everyone knows is written by the victor. It seems it has rarely occurred to the people studying it to ask the loser for their side.
Olman goes back to his office and starts pacing back and forth. His aide comes in and tells him:
“Sir, they’ve cut through everything right now. We need to stop them fast.”
Olman: “What floor are they on?”
“90, sir, they’re moving fast.”
“Kay… Lock the floor down. Send everything we have near there at them. Flush them out and bury them under grenades if you have to – we can fix any damage to the building, right?”
“Sir?”
“Just KILL those fuckers!”
“Maybe we should evacuate Dr. Mendel and Kalopsia?”
“Hmm… no, we at least know what to defend.”
Eurus, Boreas and Astraeus are trapped on the 90<sup>th</sup> floor after fighting through so many Ultra operatives. They can always go back and get out of the building but there’s no easy way for them to progress lower because they don’t have access and every direction of access is cut off. Since they don’t know where in the building Kalopsia and Dr. Mendel are, they are hesitant to blow a hole into the floor twice.
Eurus and his brethren try to access the exit points via terminals around the offices and floors but to no avail. Before they can think of another plan however, they hear heavy ordinance being carried on the floor above them and hundreds if not a thousand boots running across their heads.
“Take out their feeds as we move,” says Eurus, “let’s split up – meet me here in 5 minutes.”
Suddenly the screens Olman and his subordinates are looking at the action through go black.
The Cells go in different hallways each. As the floor floods with soldiers, the super soldiers lay quiet in various hiding spots in almost impossible shapes. They allow the Ultra soldiers to spread themselves out evenly but with fairly small spaces until they strike.
One of the squads has gathered the foursome of them in a small room with cubicles. They don’t even notice Eurus hiding beneath a desk until it is already too late.
Again Eurus switches on his trusty strobe. The soldiers are wearing no headgear but the lighting on the 90<sup>th</sup> floor is dim. Not all lights have been switched off but now greater energy requirements are presenting themselves elsewhere (due to fires), the floor is darkened with most of the lights destroyed or turned off. Because of the experiences of the teams mowed down by Eurus and his teammates, the other Ultra operatives are afraid to switch on their night vision. In that office, Eurus busts out of his hiding spot. He opens fire from his bull rifle and starts leaping through the room with an armor penetrating heavy machine gun in one hand and a powered blade in the other. The men are being turned into minced meat within split seconds.
He exits the room to end up in a tight hallway, filled with teams of Ultra operatives. In one of his hands is a gored and mutilated corpse of one of their brothers in arms. As he flies out and having turned their eyes towards the commotion in the office space where the gunshots and the screams came from, they try to anticipate Eurus or one of the Cells exiting from there and train their guns there.
Eurus is aware of the ambush, and was anticipating it. He uses the piece of torso in his hand as a shield on his back while he goes in the other direction to take care of the operatives in that direction. He arrives at the first soldier within a split second again and rips them to shreds as well. He then throws pieces of their carcasses at their compatriots, who still haven’t opened fire upon him due to the shock of what they’re seeing.
The knowledge that they’re trapped within a tomb of their own making starts seeping in the minds of the Ultra operatives trying to hold back the forces of nature that are the three Cells they are facing. They can hear fighting in the other hallways too. Surely, they can’t be simply outclassed by three super soldiers even if they did quench the Machine Revolt? After all, they outnumber them three hundred fold.
Some of them start firing into the flurry of blood and guts flying from Eurus’ direction. Their shots only manage to mow down their allies. “Steady, men!” yell their commanders. Steady for what exactly? Steadily towards death? The instincts of self preservation set in. After cutting through several waves of Ultra operatives, one of the point men Eurus is facing decides to take Eurus out with him. He arms and tries to throw a grenade at the super soldier. It results in his arm still holding the grenade being thrown across the hallway, only killing the ones watching the carnage unfold. To see a hand still holding its unpinned grenade land at your feet and to kill you might make you reconsider your life choices.
Instead of opening fire to kill Eurus ahead of them, the men try to return to the exits to shut them down. But behind them, retreat has been cut off. Boreas and Astreaus have cut through their opposing forces quicker and now are mowing down their escape as well. Escape is no longer an option, only hiding.
Some of the men in the hallway instead of having to die choose to escape into the office rooms similar to the one Eurus emerged out of. They throw their arms to the ground despite their commanders shouting orders to the contrary and hide wherever they can. Their attempts at stopping the superhuman killing machines are palpably futile. Whoever doesn’t surrender immediately gets destroyed.
After some time the Ultra forces are completely demoralized and beaten. Increasing numbers of fighters start to surrender until there’s nobody left to fight Eurus, Astraeus and Boreas. They stoop to their knees and throw their arms to the ground. The Cells only need ask to gain access to the lower levels thanks to the invading troops’ commanders.