#id have my own cerberus shadow guard at the entrance

[j-exclamationmark-l]

You're just saying that cause I'm goth.

You discover that you have control over a certain thing, as determined by spinning this wheel. We're talking full-on magical girl/superhero/supervillain/your label of choice control.

[thorndale-industries]

Ariadne and Theseus - Chapter 1

So yeah, here is the first chapter of my attempt on actual fanfiction with several chapters. It’s the start of Human Revolution from my OC’s, Gillian Thorndale’s point of view who is also part of the Illuminati. I want to cover the attack on Sarif Industries, how the scientist got to Omega Ranch and what happened during the 6 months between the intro and the actual events of the game.

I will post on this blog and on Ao3 as soon as I get my account. If you are not familiar with my OC, feel free to check her bio and Page’s as well, since I write in my own verse which sticks to the canon as closely as possible. 

Dark, impervious rain clouds covered the city of London, and kept the old streets within their tight grip. They crept over the city like a menacing shadow, a dim guardian, whom concealed and prevented those bright illuminating rays of sunlight from reaching the ground. They were an unwelcomed harbinger with a strong voice, proclaiming their master's arrival, whom would haunt those who dared to walk the streets, knock on every single window, and ascertain that the citizens behaved and bowed before its will. Nothing would remain unseen. The white haired CEO stepped out of the old, wooden elevator, and knocked on its metallic frame with the remarkable iron ring on her right middle finger without making a sound. Five deep breaths, and she placed the old-fashioned black, unused, umbrella into its stand right next to the entrance. She had been lucky. She had been spared. A little nod towards the blond secretary, fifteen firm steps on dark parquet, and one gentle press against the door's automatic lock - this is all it took to open the gates to her own little liar: The outpost to her kingdom, unfolding to her majesty.

Her oddly coloured eyes - one blue as the ocean, the other shining like an emerald - glanced over the office with its grey and dark tones, which pleased her sight without any disruptive elements. On the contrary, it all merged into a comforting unity. Just the way everything was supposed to be. Old oil paintings adorned the grey walls, framed into gold and silver and an astonishing amount of books occupied the side to her left - only the rotating holo-globe casted some calm blue light. A room with a tale, a clash between new and ancient, but the ink of the history books had not dried yet.

With elegant and silent steps in polished black shoes, she approached the carved wooden chessboard and brushed her delicate fingers over the ebony figures. The black king and queen stood together, as they always did, never leaving each others side. There was a deep hope, a whisper, to finally get the permission to move some of those pawns - like a soldier with a nervous finger laying in the trenches as he had to observe the enemies move. But for now she had to stay patient and remain a silent watcher as she heard the clocks ticking. Soon, so she promised herself, the moment for the right shot will come and their carefully laid out plan will unravel itself, causing an avalanche no one could withstand or stop and no one was supposed to - they were the masters who watched the stones fall, piece by piece, and created the picture they desired. A perfect maschine in which even the slightest part worked in harmony with this others. 

Her fingers twitched, ready to act - or perhaps it was just the loyal demon of nictone-dependency which decided to visit her once again. His claws buried in her shoulders -  a friendly reminder she was not without marks herself. While the lean woman slowly walked towards her archaic timber desk, she took off the scarf made of the finest silk from her pale neck, exposing it, and threw the warming servant on the armchair across the room without paying attention to its fate. It served it purpose well enough; now it was time to dispose of it. A silent click, and the leathery cigarette case opened like a mechanical clam and revealed the little precious pearl in it: the poison the heiress longed for, exactly 7 doses of it. She placed a flawless exemplar between her blood-red lips, and the calming taste of exquisite tobacco on them stilled the hungry monster, pushed it back into its cave as it purred like a cat. She ignited a match without hesitation and the warm light of the petite flame brought the only accents to this monotone, cold place. For a short moment she glanced into it, fascinated by this display of controlled destruction she moved it to the tip of her life-donor, lighted it up and flooded her tainted lungs with the desired smoke. - causing a warm and welcomed feeling, especially as her eyes wandered across her desk. There it was: A plain silver plate, placed by her assistant, and on it an antique porcelain pot filled with the most precious liquid she could think of: Perfectly brewed Earl-Grey. Smirking with satisfaction, she poured her beloved drink into a simple mug next to it, drowned a sugar cube which weighted exactly 0.55 grams and let the heat take over her lifeless hands. The first rain drops gently knocked in her windown, a slow drizzle.

The woman adjusted her round glasses, checked her watch - 3:58 PM - and turned herself to her terminal to prepare everything for what was supposed to happen in exactly 126 seconds. The sky outside had the tone of the dead device in front of her. Like an automated worker, her fingers over the mechanical keyboard, typing in the commands she knew in her sleep and had used countless times. A routine, but one that secured the fate of the world. Their world. It just took a few moments of her time, just one drag of the delicious cigarette, to establish several secured connections around the world as the huge screen in front of her turned to life - ghost hieroglyphs, cryptic lines and symbols emerged out of nothing. Several faceless heads slowly took form - merely a shadow, the masked members of this private ball. But the holo-sensor, hidden behind a little marble statue of the infamous creature of Cerberus, remained turned off - no buzzing in three-quarter time to accompany this faithful event. This time she wouldn't participate, she wouldn't speak. No, today she took the role of Morpheus - assuring the rest of the world continues to participate the dream they dictated and like a mercyless guard she paid attention that no one would inadvertently wake up from the consensual illusion had been created with so much detail. The short-haired woman looked over her left shoulder and smirked as she spotted her black Belgian Malinois sleeping in front of the fireplace. Cerberus, guarding the gate to hell.

Now it was just a matter of a few seconds until the elusive meeting could start. Her own ID brightly flashed on the screen: uk.ti.22535. The CEO smiled once again as the other numbers started to join in, a series of soft pings announced their arrival like an old-fashioned door steward. The guardian took a final deep drag, let the smoke gently escape from her grip before squeezing out the cigarette. As loyal as someone could be, it took a short moment to take out their light forever after they have served their purpose.

sg.or.di.67892.

cn.ctym.99230.

us.un.09763.

us.dc.01776.

ch.who.03629.

ch.db.01120

hk.pi.02052

Splendid, everyone managed to arrive and the connections looked stable -  no one dared to step in her marble with muddy shoes. It was the non-verbal permission to finally rest and take a seat herself. She hungrily took the mug of the precious liquid and sat down in her massive leathery armchair - it offered the perfect listening position for the conversation which took place behind her, and all over the world. She didn't need to see the silhouettes, something else demanded her attention. A deep sip, and the last remnants of unrest were drowned. Three clips, fifteen buttons pressed into her keyboard, and the precious files unfolded on her terminal. Connection established. Remote Access: Sarif Industries. Another click, and she allowed a special participant of the meeting to see the same data she glazed at. Now she could close her eyes - even if just for a brief moment. Breath in, breath out.

"Is everything in place ?" hummed a voice she was way too familiar with through the speakers - even through the distortion she added to conceal the true identity. For a short moment, she imagined how he must be standing in his own office , a cigarette rested between in his well-manicured fingers as he gazed at the stunning view of Hong Kong the holographic window revealed -  like a king admiring his very own empire. A view she had the pleasure to see herself often enough.

"Almost." And there was the other Chinese metropole. The unnatural one, reaching for the sky as the unfortunate left behind suffocated on dust and dirt. A hive, where the drones did not matter at all.

"What do you mean, almost?"

"I have spoken with Montreal. The broadcast satellites are ours when we need them. A few weeks of discomfort and the public will be primed for our recall."

The Welsh woman did not look at the faceless icons floating behind her, who coloured her desk in bright yellow as they spoke. No, her differently coloured eyes firmly clung to the terminal in front it her, tinted in dark gold, as she eagerly read the classified reports and analyses she had waited for so long. There it was, the holy grail the whole world longed for, reaching out with their greasy dirty hands, like beggars who dragged on your pants and stained it with the pathetic hope that they would get your pity. Hoping you would spare a golden coin. But as soon as their crippled hands reach out for you, someone else will forcefully remind them where they belong before they can even see your face. And soon, this reminder would have to be made again as an unwelcomed person, one who seems himself as the messiah - the great liberator - stepped on the chessboard, although he was ignoring he corpses he was walking on. But he was fragile, like a house of cards - remove the core and it will fall into itself and nothing will be left if its former glory.

And they knew exactly how to reach these parts. Another deep warming sip down her throat, and her fingers ran over the cold keys again. "Have you seen her research?"

This time, she opened up a private text channel with the mysterious creature who head the great privilege to lead this meeting. She had to admit, she was surprised the Hydra allowed the disciple to step out like this. As she hit enter, she  her eyes closed again and listened carefully to her partner's voice and to the others response . The world was quite, as if someone had emptied the hourglass just for this moment, before it would be refilled and run as usual.

"And the clinics?"

"We control their purse strings. They will do as we say." The ice queen left her ivory tower in Geneva and stepped on the chessboard.

Quietly the CEO took little sip of the Earl Grey and warmed her hands after this sudden moment of coldness. A shiver down her spine as the almost unbearable French accent rang in her ears. She would increase the distortion for that line next time. Ping and finally a response showed up on her second screen. "Yes." Satisfied with this simple word she smiled again and took another, deeper sip.

"I still think we should wait for the referendum." The diplomat, collected as always. His line appeared to be the most fragile, since he was calling directly from the UN building in New York. It was careless to call from such an exposed place -  he nearly asked to be attacked as he showed his bare neck.

"We can't afford to wait! America's science board convenes next month." The Grand Knight aggressively proclaimed, like a crusader kicking a door in. The woman hasn't seen him in a while, she should pay him a visit in his castle again.

"But the mood among the delegates is shifting. I'm positive that given more time…" The diplomat nearly bowed in awe.

While the others still discussed the matter, a closed case in her eyes, the CEO opened up a report from the borrowed files from Sarif Industries's internal servers. A file that confirmed yet again what she and her husband had suspected for a long time and the world was about to get exposed to - like an highly infectious disease it would spread around the world and change its face forever. Unless they would stop them before it could even leave the lab it was currently located in. She could feel how her heart started to beat faster and opened the chat again. "She has found it. The gene sequence we need." Another sip helped her to control the little rush of excitement before she added: "But she is out of our reach."

"No, by going public with this discovery Sarif is forcing our hand." interrupted the disciple.

"The world will not change overnight just because David Sarif wills it. Besides, we can do nothing until our biochip is ready." The charming Hephaestus calmly spoke from his workshop in Singapore like an old mentor - the smith of this golden age who has created the impossible. How ironic his magical anvil was unable to create a cure for his crippled feet. The short haired always wondered if this man would fall from the Olymp one day as well.

"I thought you said you were close." There was it again, the arrogant voice of the Dragon from the east.

"Finding the correct nerve interface has proven more challenging than anticipated. Fortunately, thanks to David I now know where to look."

Suddenly the whole screen turned red, a minor alarm was triggered and activated the anti-hacking counter measures Morpheus, she, rigorously had programmed herself to keep those who dared  to open their eyes and wake up from their dreams back into neverending sleep. Quickly she put the mug away and typed a few commands to see what was going on. Her heart beat faster again, a car rushing to an emergency.

"Intruder detected, secured connection compromised. Intruder has been blocked and identified: -  auto.prog.plague.2213 - Hengsha - China. Affected connection: hk.pi.02052 . Secured connection re-established."

Cold sweat on her forehead, the CEO exhaled deeply out of relief, proud of her own construction at the same time. She left the protocol open, staring at it with a twitching eye, before she decided to take a deeper look into the threat. She was confident that she could trace the bot back to its origin, those who were brave enough to try forbidden fruits were often the mindless ones. Another cigarette was the right tool to choke the undesired feelings of restlessness . "Is she?" flickered in the private text channel just a few seconds later.

"Finish the talk, we need to discuss our next manoeuvre in private."