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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i>Emmy</i></span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><i>Mid June 2022 <br/>
Early Afternoon<br/>
Operations Room <br/>
(direct) -&gt; No One<br/>
(indirect) -- The Cabal Of Unity / The Nine</i></span></span><br/>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">To anyone that remained in the Operations Room, they'd see just how entranched and focused Emmy truly was on the monitor in front of them. She lack of sleep and constant obsession with The Matrix and the dossier was probably the only common denominator left the girl had between this walking vessel of who she was now, and the radiant baby gem from the days of old. Nonethless, someone had to be. Somebody has to do it. But, with her back turned to the room... the realm would miss the slight smile that spread across her lips from the fact that for better or worse Emmy had gotten the family all under the same roof for the first time in almost half a decade. One would have a better shot at winning the lottery with max winnings. But she did it. A feat of Mother, and ironically her siblings who helped raise her all into one. God she missed them, but God she was scathed and held scathing for them as well. She was so afraid to express herself on either spectrum; be it negative or positive. She was in fear that too much emotion on either end would lead to an unleashed suppression she was truly reluctant to confront for all the reasons a therapist or some healthy social figure would've affirmed for her if able. <br/>
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It made her think back to the Cabal. <i><b>The </b></i>Cabal, not the shell of the people that currently roamed the Blockhouse and estate. When they were all symbiotically so in sync there was no source on the planet that could come between them. She still remembered her first Expedition. Every sibling had always said the same thing.... you always remember your first. She was so proud and happy Mother had finally decided and deemed her ready enough to operate on an Expedition. She'd fantasized and idolized the idea of it and her siblings for so long that she was finally a part of it. The world would've condemend Mother had they known the truth, but Mother would've set them straight in return if they had known the full truth also. That these nine individuals were far more developed than about 99.9% of the world in almost every way. Almost. Even as Emmy started to focus harder on the dossier... she found her mind slipping to a nostalgiac past. </span></span><br/>
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">A Shard of What Once Was</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i>Cabal Gold</i></span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><i>Mid 2017<br/>
0314 Hours<br/>
USA-Mexico Border</i></span></span><br/>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy York didn't exist. A zesty and energetic baby gem was for all intents, a ghost. What had replaced her for the moment was a sharpened agent of providence and equity. A jurat of the most rugged form of retribution. An extention, a strong arm of the most capable, terrifying force on Earth. The force that all knew, but none recognized. The Unity was here. The various <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fblenderartists.org%2Fuploads%2Fdefault%2Foptimized%2F4X%2Fb%2F3%2F1%2Fb31146c651e48ed032ae5237eb09d089eb0c5cb3_2_690x441.jpeg&amp;hash=88028f52feea4c715761b876326143b7" href="https://blenderartists.org/uploads/default/optimized/4X/b/3/1/b31146c651e48ed032ae5237eb09d089eb0c5cb3_2_690x441.jpeg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">score of colored nanoweave suits</a> zipped through the air in a bolserting yet silent mach-speed propulsion. All the same, a racing heart of a young and emotionally charged teen rested behind a beautiful gold. However, the mind was that of a seasoned master. A group of radicalized (and armed) infidels that believed the world was now facing end times due to the appearance of The Matrix wanted to appease their theological deity by offering a reset of mankind. And not the 40 days and 40 nights kind. More so in the form of ascertained illegal warheads that could sync &amp; steal satellite information of sanctioned countries' gps data. Population control of a cleansing final light. The CIA and FBI got wind of a black site location off the border, but could not officially acknowledge the intel nor its credibility. And so... they prayed to the winds that a breeze would push the tides of fate in the correct course. <br/>
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That breeze was a swift and merciless gale. <br/>
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The compound was littered with about five dozen or so trained radicals, <i>trained </i>being very subjective when compared to the prowess of what was about to hit them. All unaware to the coming storm.. quite literally. An electronic, encrypted voice spoke into unknown comms. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(97, 189, 109)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Green: "Five snipers. All outlining the compound, 30 meter towers. Blue. Go ahead."  </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">A gradual and stirring sound of thunder could be heard overhead, to the surprise of the infidels. It had not been forecast for storms on an otherwise clear and <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2F74%2F66%2F3f%2F74663fe9408c6f3bdfb9c0f5de660831.gif&amp;hash=e6817e958cd7bc39e187be28d5e5e8c5" href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/74/66/3f/74663fe9408c6f3bdfb9c0f5de660831.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">starry </a>night. Dark clouds had begun to haze themselves into existence, as within minutes the grounds had also been met with another unexpectancy of rain. First light, inviting and almost cooling to the touch. And then... heavier, more judgemental. And with every drop that came, the thunder started to become prominent. Seeking, even. Spanish could be heard through the sounds of dropping and abundant rain now, with the thunder hollowing out noise beyond close proximity. <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gifer.com%2F3Yul.gif&amp;hash=8e1ffccd2b51fb8e717e865fbd6d6852" href="https://i.gifer.com/3Yul.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">The rain</a> took away the gift of sight. And then the breeze came. Within about two seconds of a thunderous boom, a sniper drops on the north end of the compound. About a mile from the compound, a wet radiance of green, blue, violet, and gold glistened under the moonlight. <br/>
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Just outside the compound however, footsteps silently meld through the moist sediment underneath. From the north end, the footsteps cease, as a patrolling group rounds the back of an old and decaying stone structure. They spoke into radios that suggested confusion and slight disorientation. On the south end of the compound, a set of footsteps could be heard approaching as eyes locked onto a couple of dozen armed figures speaking in urgency and rushing to move inside of the main structure on the north side. They seemed to be moving wooden crates begrudgingly into green tents within close proximity as to not get them wet. In the dense and lush woodlands of the border location, concealed suits of red, yellow, and black prey their gaze on the inhabitants with a focused fury. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(250, 197, 28)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Yellow: "We're here." </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Not even a second after the communication, the sniper on the south end of the compound drops. Back on the north end behind the main structure, the patrols rendevous on the sides of the building as a thin trail through the forming mud reveals a beeline trajectory towards the main building. Too small to be noticeable in these conditions, too small to even be registered by a person. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(251, 160, 38)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Orange: "Ready." </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">And then came one. Above the compound, literally <i>above</i>... rested a beautiful white suit. Too harsh of a climate to be readily noticed, added with the fact that the lust of the moonlight was now covered by clouds and hazy rain. Among the thunder was floating a pair of eyes that looked upon the remaining three snipers on adjacent edges of the compound that completed a penta-point surveillance. And these pair of eyes watches as one.....two....the third and final sniper had dropped to the flooring of the tower support. Pieces of sharpened hickory shooting through them at elite speed. The breeze had subsided. The gale was upon them. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(97, 189, 109)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Green: "Gold. No turning back after this..." </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Gold stood from the ranged cliff, facing Green, Blue, and Violet as they looked back to meet the initiated incumbent's gaze.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"> "I'm ready."</span> Green then without hesitation nodded towards Blue, in which a sudden and callous flashing of lightning began to spider across the sky above the compound. Fear set into the hearts of every man and woman below as their eyes foretold of a grim future. Their preservation kicks in out of panic as they lifted their guns to a <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gifer.com%2F18WO.gif&amp;hash=61cd354f587f6112b906229abb8b8790" href="https://i.gifer.com/18WO.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">figure in the sky,</a> it's white appearance sheathed by mother nature. Indistinguishable shouting could be heard through the compound as some run inside, and others stay to confront the entity aboove. </span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><i><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)">"INVASORRR!!!"</span></b></i></span></span><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> One shouts as the rest open fire to the silhoutette aobve them in the sky. A myriad of bullets from automatic assault rifles spark and burst forth into the rain and storm, however each and every single one is met at a halt to an invisible force that prevents them from reaching the figure. It was as if gravity itself detested the conventional ways of human initiated violence. <br/>
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<b>White: "The fire is on me.... Go." </b><br/>
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One by one, the infidels began to flater and fall systematically, as the grunted hits and impacts of other entities began to rampage through their ranks. Wisps of red, black, and yellow shift through them as their fire began to spread from the sky down through the thick rain, some even hitting each other in crossfire. However, no one seemed to hit their actual intended targets. Sight of a Red entity, as every person who attempted to continue fire simply became drowned in apathy as their focus disorients and was met with a relentless fists. Every threat in the immediate vicinity ceased fire as they began to stumble, as a vicious Yellow emerged from the rain and lifted their hands. Rain began to swirl in a centripetal vortexing fashion in one hand, while the other started to accumulate wind and air to the point it became a visible force or pressurized gas. A forceful grunt from Yellow clashes their hands together as it creates a hydrogust, sending the foes flying in every direction and losing grip on their firearms. The ones that remained guarding the tents were tactically being taken down effortlessly from the entity in Black, subduing them from their weapons and knocking them out cold with swift and precise strikes. <br/>
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Surrounding and flanking enemies begin a poor attempt to surround the three Cabal on the ground team, with a multitude of hardened roots and vines upheaving from the oldmother herself, gripping every last one of them as they ascend into the sky constricted. And then, a zipping of an all-too-fast blurring motion of gold jumps from root to root like tadpoles with direct hits to the cranium of each one. Their guns would fall to the ground but they would never make impact, as Gold darts to each and every one along with the subdued enemies' guns from the ground team's work. Gold had gathered them all in a mountain of firearms a safe distance just outside the compound before zipping back in to meet the team. Not siblings, they were much more than that in these moments and for the first time, Gold felt the exact magnitude in which she idolized for so long. White descends down as all that was left was inside the compound itself. They all walked towards the entrance, as Gold touched all of them. A surging jolt of translucent energy ran through their system. The Cabal found themselves more acute in focus, stronger, faster...gods among mankind. <br/>
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One of the infidels had trudged through the rain and weather seemingly casual, grabbing their keycard as they walked past The Cabal and staight towards the sealed tight door with an electronic lock. Gold looked to this infidel and gathered very quickly from the man's posture and demeanor, he wasn't to be harmed. At least for the time being. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Violet, how many are inside?" </span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(160, 115, 221)">Violet (Infidel): "I seem to feel about thirty more. Well thrity one including the ant. We should have no problem. You know you must not hesitate, right?" </span><br/>
Gold returns a solemn nod.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"> "I know, we got this." </span><br/>
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Inside the compound, an envoy of radicals rush to a deeply sealed room underground reinforced with metal alloy. In it, housed a large container with the ever cliche radioactive logo on it. About a dozen held guns to the only entry down into the bunker, ready for what awaited to ambush. Panicked spanish spread through the location, as a small garrison rushed to their established comms room and began to frantically request support via a secured HAM Radio station. Others would attempt to activate the compound's alarm system to signal others to begin countermeasures. They would find no reponse however. They attempted time after time, but to no avail. That was until one individual noticed a trail of wires underneath the desk had been severed, cut clean through. Moreover, upon further inspection... the <i><b>entire </b></i>system had been sabotaged. Once the infidel took notice however, their eyes fixated on something strange.. a small, moving object. A bug? It looked like a fire ant with its orange appearance, until they realized ants don't walk on two legs... The infidel's eyes went wide as they quickly-- <br/>
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Orange delivers a growing uppercut to the infidel, as the other members of the group shout in terror at the sudden emergence of The Cabal. Orange lifts another up by their neck, using him as a shield from the others' gunfire as they burst bullets into the now lifeless body as he shoved his way into them, using the body to knock all of them down. He then expanded his forearm across all of their necks, applying just enough force to render them unconscious. However, the comms room door bursts open as some of the radicals had heard the gunfire and quickly raised to shoot Orange while they had the drop on him. Once the bullet rang out, Orange simply vanished from their view, as the last thing they saw was a growing fist coming right for their nose. The electronic light turns green, as the panicked gunmen had to decide their focus between the entrance, or behind them where Orange resided. Neither would matter. The entrance steel door blasts forth as a focused punch from an augmented Red sent the foes flying back. The sheer impact had incapacitated them as Red looked at her fists in unseen astonishment. Yellow and Black charge in as a blur of Gold zips by them, effectively seeking out the remaining of the thirty that awaiting in the underground structure and disarming them all in a matter of seconds. Gold had much more training with her own ability, as even her souped Cabal mates would need to get used to the temporary strength and speed boost. Too much could kill unintentionally... too much could also even kill <i>them</i>. <br/>
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Once the remaining and conscious infidels were left, they all began to convulse mildly with their eyes rolling back before seeming normal once more. About fourteen of the radicals began to walk in unison towards the rear room, a steel door was all that remained from them and their missive. The electronic light turns green, as the final garrison tasked with guarding the container all were shocked at the appearance of their comrades filling into the door, all of their hands up peacefully, and all talking in unison men and woman alike. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(160, 115, 221)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Violet (Infidels): "You do not have to do this. The quiet way is always better."</span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">The infidels react back in a confused but enraged fury. <i><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)">"¡Demonios! ¡Todos ustedes! ¡Estás poseído por el mismo diablo! ¡Ríndanse y no dispararemos!"</span></b></i> Yellow then pushes through the crowd, the suit a beacon of fear and justice mashed into one, the concealed masked visior separating the world from humanity and anomaly. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(250, 197, 28)"><b><i>"No. Nosotros no somos los demonios aquí. Pero somos ángeles sin alas."</i></b></span> The radicals look among themselves, and then back to the container. Every Cabal member knew what came next. No one ever picked the ideal choice. But to be fair... The Cabal never risked the chance to give them the opportunity. Before the radicals could even shout to fire their weapons, Gold watched as Black used her granted speed to deliver a chop to each gunmen's neck; they clutched their throats with instant fright as they choked and coughed themselves to the ground. Red focused on every soul around the compound who wasn't Cabal, charging herself with a boosted amplification from Gold as she prepared to send a mass wave to end this once and for all. The CIA would find a nicely <s>executed </s>unexplained scene with they "randomly" happened upon the black site in a couple of hours. <br/>
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However, Gold's hearing was dialed up.. as she could hear one infidel still rummaging for a rifle before she went unconscious to Red's ability. Gold left the room and walked straight to the infidel, a young woman. She had anger, fear, and bewilderment in her eyes. She grabbed the rifle with great strife, but it was a testament to her willpower that she was fighting Red's effects. Gold simply shook her head slowly, gravely even. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><i><b>"yo no haría eso--"</b></i></span> Gold couldn't even finish the sentence before the radicalized woman fired a shot from the rifle, with Gold's fingers instinctively clutching the bullet between her fingers and observing it briefly before looking back to the woman. Orange out of protection would not give the woman time to fall victim to Red's effects, as he delivered a strike to her temple that incapacitated her. Gold nods in appreciation. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Mother: "How was the expedition?" </span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(97, 189, 109)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Green: "Nice vacation, we're coming home." </span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(226, 80, 65)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Red: "Yellow, where'd you get that line from? So poetic."</span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(250, 197, 28)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Yellow: "Made it up. It felt right to say to try and reach them."</span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(128, 128, 128)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><b>Black: "Let's clear out. They'll be here soon. White?" </b></span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><b>White: "Nothing up here. Everyone is sound asleep. No air support, no ground units en route from as far as I can see. We're good." </b></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Blue: "I'll keep the weather on for a bit longer, cover our tracks. Am I ever going to get in on some action too?"</span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(97, 189, 109)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Green: "Baby steps. You and Gold were perfect on support. That'll do. Let's go home." </span></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(243, 121, 52)">Orange: Gold... you good?" </span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">As The Cabal talked... Gold seemed stuck on something. Despite her first Expedition being flawless, she couldn't help but freeze after it was all done. It was the fear in the woman's eyes before she was knocked out that Gold ....Emmy remembered vividly. It stuck with her that day. A true reality that this wasn't all glory and hopeful ideals. This shit was real. It affected the world in ways she couldn't understand even with her intellect. It was also the look Emmy would have ironically enough when she'd see Mother's lifeless body. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Gold: "...yeah."</span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span style="font-size: 15px">Emmy blinked herself back into focus. Did she doze off? She didn't even know at this point. Nonetheless, she wiped her face and cleared her throat and continued at her observations. </span></span><br/>
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