Everett von Tillam stood in front of the Energy Facility, the massive dome-shaped building stretching out across the tiger-striped desert. Similar to the colosseums of old, the simple scale of it’s construction would have awed locals, were there any to this barren region on the edge of the New System. Everett had come on behalf of his father, or rather his father’s retainer, to investigate the futuristic power plant for any clues of disturbance, in addition to retrieving the ‘central module’. The greatest hope for this mission was that information found on site as well as data retrieved might play a part in piecing together the cause of Lead Engineer and Visionary Tillam’s sudden disappearance, alongside the mystery of the rampant power surges and fluctuations being measured from this facility. Decked out with a full thermal-retention suit left over from the Mass Migration, in addition to a matching visor and a variety of unusual armaments equipped to the suit, Everett ventured within the rotund monument.
The diagrams could not have prepared Everett for the shock of witnessing the structure within. Sure, each Energy Facility was built differently, with a certain air of novelty and innovation inspired by his father’s constructive process in addition to the madness that is commonly associated with such entrepreneurs, but the sight that greeted Ev could not possibly be construed with intent, let alone by design. The complex began with a curved entryway, veering left, characterized by a repeated pattern of towering, segmented steel walls. Beyond, within the main chamber, vast stalactites formed of the metallic cavern’s ceiling hung as far as the eye could see. Matching stalagmites dotted the equally metallic floor of the building, and as he journeyed further in, Ev came to notice other structures and patterns sprouting from steel: wisping tendrils that appeared to surface and depart, ripples and waves across the chamber’s interior, a great swirl of visually fluid yet solid metal descending from the higher ceiling of the interior area’s dome- all frozen in time, as though the walls, supports and all manner of structure had come to life for a few short moments, only to be stilled again by some unknown power. He gazed with wonder at the grand display. What kind of device could be used to orchestrate this scene? Such remarkable machination. Perplexing and unconventional artistry. Beautiful. Terrifying. Uncontrolled. Everett snapped back to the task at hand. He couldn’t allow himself to be shaken by such things, visual marvel or not. Proceeding to the control room, located in the very center of the scattered alloy, Ev activated a minor tension increase throughout the suit to allow for careful precision of movements, in addition to upping the passive traction level of his boots in anticipation of the cold and slick surface ahead. Traversing the maze of towering ore with an expected amount of difficulty, he arrived in what was left of the doorway of his target location. Stepping inside, Ev noted that any intruder over eight feet in height would be impeded by the low ceiling of the central control room. With a quick twist on the left, and two taps on the right, he trained the thermo-suit’s attached visor to scan for measures of thermal, electromagnetic, and alpha radiation. Soon he tapped the right side again, narrowing it back down to a search for electromagnetic and thermal. Remember your training. The visor display’s faint yellow and blue lines directed him to what seemed to be an offshoot of the main room, a cylindrical domicile occupied by varying manner of machines, all employing their own electromagnetic fields, and mild thermals, all leading to an object that...wasn’t there. What the room appeared to be designed to support was missing- and that meant the mission’s objective: the central module.
“It’s not here…” Everett spoke out loud, motivated temporarily by frustration rather than tactical necessity.
“So you came for it, too.” a gravelly voice responded from the darkness.
Suddenly aware of his own lack of attunement to the room’s visual conditions, Ev whirled in place, scanning for any signs of the unseen speaker. He slowly reached towards the left side of the visor, hoping to detect any living creatures using the mono-BIOSCAN mode. A rapidly enlarging red and green outline greeted this adjustment- but he had acted too late. Thermals went red. Above! Everett moved to react further, but found himself impaired. Stuck. Like someone had stuck a skewer through his chest, holding it in place. It was no illusion- looking down, a four-pronged claw protruded from the center of his torso. Thin and silvery, it emitted a whirring noise before retracting through the cavity it had burrowed. Vitals: Danger, the suit informed Ev, as a torrent of red haze erupted from the wound. The suit’s message was unnecessary: his own sympathetic system had plenty to say on the matter- agony, for the most part. Burning, searing, wrenching pain emanating from the hole, overwhelming the functions of every other sensory organ. A terrible, involuntary and biologically-driven panic filled what was left of Ev’s chest: the nerves which once were there could no longer connect. The body could no longer function as a living organism should, moving oxygen, lipids, cells and nutrients through those passages. It made him feel so isolated despite the manic rush of adrenaline pushing Ev to survive. Forcibly incomplete. Alone in the sensation, cut off from the previous group: from the whole, breathing, sweating, living tribe of humanity. Finally falling to the ground after the release of the impalent’s grasp, Ev watched a pair of crimson gripclaws trail away, and then nothing more.
Everett awoke feeling very gracious, both to his past self for installing a suit liner, as well to the self-patching technology itself. It was evident that during the involuntary nap, what was previously a puncture wound in his chest had repaired itself with the help of the boosted platelets running through his interior biomedical system. Between the two fronts, he was left in passibly functional condition, with a complete suit to boot. His thoughts immediately turned to the outcome of the recent encounter. Fucking bastard. You do NOT steal from a Tillam and skate. With little consideration for the healing process, Everett smashed both fists into the ground and screamed an obscenity, which echoed haphazardly, the sound bouncing through the building’s unnaturally shaped interior. He then stood, with only a mild spike of dizziness (reduced passively by the enhanced circulatory system) as blood was forced upward for the first time following the injury, and began cranking heels, calves, legs, and swinging his arms around, certain to push optimal circulation to every joint. When he felt adequately limber, it became time to activate his own pair of gripclaws. The mission objective was missing, stolen, destroyed, or regardless not on location, and Ev had no wish to entertain another ambush within the confines of the complex, especially against an opponent who had managed to circumvent the visor’s scanning. Brandishing his wrist-blade, heated to max, Ev climbed the wall of the circular control chamber on all fours, putting arms first, and then legs until he reached the ceiling, bore a man-sized hole- tossing the refuse below, and then proceeded through above. After repeating the process three times, he found himself standing on the apex of the dome, once again overlooking the expanse of desert. A few taps on the visor’s right swapped to PURE OCULAR - NIGHT VISION mode- the most linear method of search, and ultimately the most accurate under the conditions. The strong desert winds played to his favor, and within minutes Ev had located the target: one Dynastic-model thermo-suit, coupled with bloody-red gripclaws, on route to exodus to the west, traveling at approximately 40km/h across the sands. Securing the opposite wrist that the heat-blade was mounted to, Everett prepared the overarm Coil Gun to fire, lining up the trajectory with minor assistance from the visor’s included targeting system to account for distance, particles carried by the powerful gusts, and natural atmospheric conditions. Once satisfied with the calibration, Ev clenched his left fist with intent to kill. Electricity crackled wildly as power advanced through the coils, ultimately releasing the magnetically-attuned projectile at mach speed with no more than a hiss. Splat. Right through the kneecap. It was a good target- crippling the adversary, disabling momentum, and yet also allowing for error or minor miscalculation in accuracy, as there was still a chance of lodging in the calf, or better yet, the ankle. With no celebration nor loss of focus, Ev split the clip with a quick flicking motion, and loaded it full of ballistic scrap once more. To his surprise, the opponent had turned on one leg and proceeded to glide back towards the Energy Facility, clearly seeking an additional confrontation. Everett suppressed an expression of manic glee- it was time to go in for a closer look.
As the crimson figure approached, gliding, almost skating across the sand, Everett couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. It was like this with every kill or be killed- first, the exhilaration of the challenge. Next, the puzzle of the struggle. Finally the elation of victory, coupled with the terrible regret and disdain that comes with taking life from something that had it. The final feeling was like throwing unopened presents in the trash, a tragic waste of sentience’s potential, all over some material squabble in this chemically-driven fleshbag resource gathering game. Remorse over inhibition. Pull it together. Ev retained focus to the task at hand, retraining his ocular sense on the rapidly accelerating rider. Noticing a sudden chill in the air, he immediately became suspicious, mentally raising the alarm one level higher. Temperature fluctuations in close combat usually indicated the use of a high-energy weapon, either intaking thermic energy in order to charge up, or expelling it in return for thermal performance on sensitive electronics. The case at hand indicated the former. Now nearly in striking distance, the rider released the second recently-crippled leg down to the sand, allowing it to dangle and spaz around feely as it was displaced by the dunes. In front, a shimmering sphere had appeared, hovering to what Ev perceived as the rider’s left side. A short strand of the same shimmering material led into the rider’s pack. Ev identified it at once: hydragyus domain: a weapon that utilized control over an amount of mercury, manipulating it’s temperature as well as position using the addition of elements to the liquidmetal compound and a vibrant electromagnetic field. The face of the sphere shifted, and numerous thin beams of the material shot out in parallel formation towards Ev. Wasting not a second, he tumbled to what should have been out of the way, adjusting the visor back into EM mode in the process. The signal was clear- the device was being operated from the receiver installed on the rider’s undamaged leg, with power supplied from the suit’s pack. Unfortunately, Everett had no time to act- a chilling agony spread all throughout the body, permeating from his back and overwhelming the senses. Hydragyus Domain possessed the capacity to arc haphazardly at the user’s command, and this feature had been utilized as the two passed on another at high speed. The technique to manipulate quicksilver weapons requires an exceptional level of fine motor control and accuracy in addition to great amounts of onboard processing power, so it was not surprising for the sudden back-strike from the unknown dynasty operative to catch even Ev off-guard. Having studied the Standard Weaponry Manual in all it’s editions thoroughly, Everett was thoroughly prepared for what came next- in order to prevent the spread of mercury through the bloodstream and escape a rapid evisceration, he commanded the suit to FLUSH&SIPHON: an emergency mode reserved for situations like these, where all spare fluids were swiftly blasted through the major channels of the circulatory system, forcing out all invasive materials by separating them from the biological profile of the user. This reprieve came at no lack of expense however, costing not only all of the suit’s resources in stock, but also a short duration of physical inactivity, as the wearer’s interior hydration was rebalanced. The attacker wasted no time in exploiting the moment of weakness, twisting through the air with the free-hanging right gripclaw while doubling back. Ev only managed to scarcely block with the bottom edge of the heat-blade, incurring a nasty plated elbow from the agent’s spin. Knocked down into the ocean of painted sediments, Ev couldn’t help but question his own ability: Am I to be bested twice in a single encounter? Not only by deception but even the frontal assault? Confusion stemming from the minorly augmented brain bashing against its container flooded his consciousness, and once again, the world began to go dark.
Some number of moments later- it could have been an eternity obscured by amnesia, for all he experienced in the aftermath of head trauma, Ev’s eyes fluttered open again behind the newly-shattered lens of the visor. The usual UI appeared a mix of distorted, missing and offline, but he was shocked to find himself not impaled, dismembered, or worse. Thoughts of why and how echoed until he recognized a familiar object in the view in front of him- it was none other than the mission objective, adhered to the back of his apparent savior. The figure was like none he had ever seen before: a thick and hefty torso, hunched forward and adorned with two arms, with increasing mass below petite knoblike shoulder joints, and two properly proportioned legs ending in gear similar to Ev’s own gripclaws, but without the clear separation of man and machine. The entire chassis emitted a mild shine, although in the evening light, the dark pigmentation of the metal prevented complete reflection. Random patterns of segmentation appeared at many of the junctions in it’s construction, short of the centermost area of the ‘back’ where the Energy Facility’s central module had been lodged. The standoff did not last long- as quickly as he came; the crimson-clawed rider disappeared in a cloud of sand, evidently kicked up by the quicksilver weapon.
“You had gathered the module all along?” Ev inquired weakly.
“Yes.” replied the towering being. “For I am The Collector”.
“The Collector? Collector of what, the power plant modules?”
“You remain unaware of the module’s nature? I am greatly disappointed in Tillam’s education.”
Father’s involved in this? Excellent, the search was not in vain!
Lost in thoughts brought on by the sudden surge of optimism relative to the mission’s progress, Ev did not immediately respond, prompting the visibly mechanical creature to continue:
“Later then I will elaborate on your knowledge base. For now, let us recuperate- in a place of refuge.” The metallic amalgam turned to reveal one, single, blazing socket and a multitude of etchings illuminated across the front torso. It gestured with one of four razorlike digits on it’s left hand, and then, they were falling. Falling into a lightless abyss.
A poorly-drawn diagram of our protaganist.
The items on the left are Gripclaws.
The Dynastic Agent
Somehow my vision for what the Spoon Collector itself looks like is convoluted enough that there isn't a complete illustration yet.