05-12-2015, 12:30 AM
Samus rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes. The workshop smelled of tin and oil, quiet except for the tick of the clock in the far corner. Bleary eyed, the Chozo-Human hybrid squinted and went back to work on her armor. The orange surface glowed beneath her fingers as she worked.
A knock came at the door.
“Samus,” came a small voice, “Are you still awake?”
The light was on, Samus noted irritably. “I’m awake,” she said.
The door creaked open. “I just thought I’d see how you were doing,” came the head at the door, barely half of Samus’s height and adorned with wispy hair the colour of dust. “It’s quite late, isn’t it?”
Samus looked across at the clock. Twelve fifteen. She sighed. “I suppose.”
“I don’t want to bother you. Just thought you might want some company.”
Looking at the wall, Samus closed and then opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just been a while since I made any adjustments.” She turned and forced a smile at the old woman. “It’s more fun than it looks.”
The old woman smiled sweetly back. “Just make sure you don’t get to bed too late.”
“I won’t. Good night.”
After the door closed, Samus scowled. She’d been put off entirely from what she was doing. Putting down the armour, she stood up and stretched. Her bones felt like a bundle of twigs, and they cracked as she rolled her shoulders about. She needed to get some real exercise. But not today. Not tonight.
Stepping out into the night sky, Samus walked down to the beach. The ocean stretched in all directions, black and endless as space. It wasn’t so different at all. She could get used to it. Perhaps this universe needed her more than the one she’d been born into.
It would have been nice to have a choice, though.
The boat was gone. Dismantled entirely. The Empire knew what it looked like. But Samus had summoned a smaller, sleeker boat in its place. Adam sat in there, monitoring the Dataverse for anything unusual.
She leaned into the control room, the lights momentarily blinding her at this hour. Adam never slept. “Hey,” she monotoned.
“Lady.” The AI shot back. “Aren’t you up a bit late?” he added.
Samus grunted, sitting down at the controls and opening up a monitor. She slouched over the keyboard, then looked up. “Water?”
A plastic cup shot out of a dispenser to her right.
“Thanks.” She took it and slurped.
“They’ve been talking about this Dante’s Abyss on all the streams,” said Adam.
“I know,” said Samus. It filled her with a sick curiosity, she had to admit, but the sick far outweighed the curiosity. She knew that such shows were popular even in her own galaxy, but at least the Federation had the humanity to outlaw them. To watch them was to give them legitimacy. Her attention was far better served by other things. Even watching funny animal vids was more productive, in that it was less abhorrent.
And yet it was plastered over the headlines. The Empire was only too happy to spend hours talking about how disgusting it was, all the while showing pictures and detailing the competitors. ‘Just to keep people informed, of course.’
Samus grimaced. She almost clicked away but something caught her eye. An armour she recognised. The polar opposite of her own; stylish and rustic, low-tech in its extravagance. The hunter’s pupils dilated.
Cindy.
Samus sat still for almost a minute, her heart pumping and her eyes fixed on the image.
It had been many months since her encounter with Cindy, fighting the Rathalos. They’d taken it down as a group, and, as the artefacts lay before them … That’s when Cindy had bashed her over the head with a hammer.
She hadn’t seen the monster hunter since. Not for lack of trying. She suspected that Cindy mostly operated off the nets. It would make sense for a hunter from the kind of universe that Cindy seemed to be from, but it also made sense that someone with Cindy’s moral predilections probably didn’t want to have a massive presence. But it seemed that even she couldn’t resist the pull of such a big event. Samus could have puked right then and there.
Was this what most Primes did? Run around treating this all as some big game, getting rewards and power by killing and destroying? She stood up and fumed.
“Don’t do it, Samus.” It was Adam speaking.
Samus didn’t respond. She left the control room and hopped off the boat, returning to the island. She didn’t feel the cold, nor hear the crickets. She saw only logic, and herself floating further and further away from it.
A knock came at the door.
“Samus,” came a small voice, “Are you still awake?”
The light was on, Samus noted irritably. “I’m awake,” she said.
The door creaked open. “I just thought I’d see how you were doing,” came the head at the door, barely half of Samus’s height and adorned with wispy hair the colour of dust. “It’s quite late, isn’t it?”
Samus looked across at the clock. Twelve fifteen. She sighed. “I suppose.”
“I don’t want to bother you. Just thought you might want some company.”
Looking at the wall, Samus closed and then opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just been a while since I made any adjustments.” She turned and forced a smile at the old woman. “It’s more fun than it looks.”
The old woman smiled sweetly back. “Just make sure you don’t get to bed too late.”
“I won’t. Good night.”
After the door closed, Samus scowled. She’d been put off entirely from what she was doing. Putting down the armour, she stood up and stretched. Her bones felt like a bundle of twigs, and they cracked as she rolled her shoulders about. She needed to get some real exercise. But not today. Not tonight.
Stepping out into the night sky, Samus walked down to the beach. The ocean stretched in all directions, black and endless as space. It wasn’t so different at all. She could get used to it. Perhaps this universe needed her more than the one she’d been born into.
It would have been nice to have a choice, though.
The boat was gone. Dismantled entirely. The Empire knew what it looked like. But Samus had summoned a smaller, sleeker boat in its place. Adam sat in there, monitoring the Dataverse for anything unusual.
She leaned into the control room, the lights momentarily blinding her at this hour. Adam never slept. “Hey,” she monotoned.
“Lady.” The AI shot back. “Aren’t you up a bit late?” he added.
Samus grunted, sitting down at the controls and opening up a monitor. She slouched over the keyboard, then looked up. “Water?”
A plastic cup shot out of a dispenser to her right.
“Thanks.” She took it and slurped.
“They’ve been talking about this Dante’s Abyss on all the streams,” said Adam.
“I know,” said Samus. It filled her with a sick curiosity, she had to admit, but the sick far outweighed the curiosity. She knew that such shows were popular even in her own galaxy, but at least the Federation had the humanity to outlaw them. To watch them was to give them legitimacy. Her attention was far better served by other things. Even watching funny animal vids was more productive, in that it was less abhorrent.
And yet it was plastered over the headlines. The Empire was only too happy to spend hours talking about how disgusting it was, all the while showing pictures and detailing the competitors. ‘Just to keep people informed, of course.’
Samus grimaced. She almost clicked away but something caught her eye. An armour she recognised. The polar opposite of her own; stylish and rustic, low-tech in its extravagance. The hunter’s pupils dilated.
Cindy.
Samus sat still for almost a minute, her heart pumping and her eyes fixed on the image.
It had been many months since her encounter with Cindy, fighting the Rathalos. They’d taken it down as a group, and, as the artefacts lay before them … That’s when Cindy had bashed her over the head with a hammer.
She hadn’t seen the monster hunter since. Not for lack of trying. She suspected that Cindy mostly operated off the nets. It would make sense for a hunter from the kind of universe that Cindy seemed to be from, but it also made sense that someone with Cindy’s moral predilections probably didn’t want to have a massive presence. But it seemed that even she couldn’t resist the pull of such a big event. Samus could have puked right then and there.
Was this what most Primes did? Run around treating this all as some big game, getting rewards and power by killing and destroying? She stood up and fumed.
“Don’t do it, Samus.” It was Adam speaking.
Samus didn’t respond. She left the control room and hopped off the boat, returning to the island. She didn’t feel the cold, nor hear the crickets. She saw only logic, and herself floating further and further away from it.
![[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/0bwAI3j.jpg)