“Commencing test sixty-five, low strength.” Yaga’s voice echoed out from a semi-isolated chamber, along with a couple dozen assistants. They stared intently and tensely through thickly plated glass that appeared to have a centimeter of wavering air hovering upon it. The energy barrier was limited in usefulness, but at least dulled some of the effects that came through the testing chamber the window gave vantage of.

“Reporting, feelings of tingling in extremities five seconds post-exposure.” A stern voice that belonged to a man whom had gone through a gauntlet of testing spoke. Shame was a thing that the science team had long left behind in the pursuit of their experiments in the name of science.

Pride was something that Dr. Ross found himself temporarily putting in his back pocket roughly thirty tests ago when he began to wail like a newborn babe in front of his peers. Idly, he shook his fingers, flexing them to be sure that they were all working accordingly. After standing from the metal chair, he took a few steps to ensure that he could still move.

After thirty seconds, he looked to Yaga past the window and shrugged, “That’s it. I’m not noticing anything else. Thirty seconds post-exposure, none of the symptoms have grown worse, nor are they impacting my feeling of touch or motor control.”

Yaga clicked his tongue, “Shame, I was hoping for a little mass paralysis.”

The team around him gave the cold-hearted man a look of shock before Dr. Ross laughed, “Alright, shut it off, bastard.”

The pseudo-biotic flipped the switch and the doctor let the feelings fade before shrugging once more, “Nope, nothing post-exposure shut off.”

“Good,” one of the more familiar assistants spoke, “the last time wasn’t something I needed to see again.”

Dr. Ross coughed and turned to hide the heat that rose on his cheeks. “We’re all scientists here, we have to be ready for the unexpected.”

“I’ve seen much that I believe to be worthy of fear,” Yaga began gravely, “but your bare ass will haunt my dreams forever.”

The science team laughed heartily at Dr. Ross’ expense. His frown deepened, “Yes, yes, laugh it up. I don’t see anyone else volunteering.”

Slowly the others got back to work, though no one commented on Dr. Ross’ statement. Some had tried to replace the man already, but he’d already insisted that the head researcher couldn’t morally stand by and allow someone else to do such a thing.

A few tests ago, he’d contacted The Reaper and asked that he procure some less than willing specimens for more experimentation. So far, they’d managed to map out a great deal of his general responses, but as far as human testing went they were near the end of their rope. Yaga could theoretically be used for some kind of biotic testing, but the ambiguous nature of its pseudo-biotic biology made any attempt non-representative as a sample at best. As far as they were concerned, Yaga was a species unto himself.

“Alright, get ready for test number sixty-six.” Yaga spoke, looking over the charts. Over the entire duration, the vast majority at the beginning had dramatic effects on Dr. Ross. But, near the middle they’d begun to find the edges of what affected humans. Now, only one out of the last five had any notable effects on Dr. Ross. And, though he didn’t say anything, Yaga felt that they were finally coming into territory that dealt with biotics.

Given how his muscles twitched after the last test, he felt that perhaps he wouldn’t be too bad of an indicator for biotic interaction after all.

“Starting.” One of the other researchers spoke as they dialed up the power with the new frequency.

Instantly Dr. Ross clutched his head in pain and staggered back onto the chair.

“Dr. Ross,” Yaga tried to speak evenly, but couldn’t manage to keep the intensity from his voice, “can you report?”

The researchers swallowed hard, feeling the same concern for Dr. Ross that Yaga did. The one at the control console put his hand firmly back on the switch to shut it off before he was stopped by their volunteer subject.

“R-reporting. Oof, that’s… intense cranial pain immediate post-exposure.” Dr. Ross grit his teeth, “Difficulty f-forming cohesive thoughts. Motor control -” he paused, lifting his arm and trying to steadily close his hand to a fist, only to fail at the fingers, “- motor control severely impaired. Vision is also…”

He stuttered and looked to the window in panic, “Off! Off now!”

Instantly the signal cut, and Dr. Ross felt like an immense weight had been lifted from him. Only then did the others notice the sheen of sweat and heavy breathing the Dr. was exhibiting. The next moment the door opened and Yaga and a few medical personnel streamed into the room.

“What was that?” Yaga whispered under his breath, trying to be mindful of the others’ states of mind. “That was way out of expectations.”

Dr. Ross held a hand out and put it on Yaga’s shoulder to steady himself. Only after he wiped his forehead with his lab coat - and looking at the resulting soaked fabric in disgust - did he answer, “It felt like my body was rapidly shutting down. I think that was somehow interacting with my cerebellum, at least at first. Then it felt like my…” he took a deep breath then, “It felt like something walked over my fucking grave. Only, the grave was dug fresh and the thing was trying to throw me in it.”

Only then did Yaga notice a deep seated look of terror that rested in his friend's gaze. Yaga swallowed hard at that, knowing that Dr. Ross had an impeccable handle on his own mind and sense of mortality. He doubted most people would be anything short of hysterical under such a sensation.

“We mark that one as strictly off limits.” Yaga nodded.

Dr. Ross snorted before pausing for a moment and laughing, muffling it while his shoulders heaved. Tears appeared in his eyes as he tried to contain the laughter, only for it to come on harder.

Before anyone could get worried, he took a long breath while still chuckling, “Hooo, wow. That’s a stress response laugh, nothing to worry about,” he waved his hand nonchalantly at the medics who now approached to take his readings.

“Yaga, make sure to note that one for testing on biotics, too.” Dr. Ross pulled up his sleeves for the medic to take his blood pressure, shaking his head at the sight of the goosebumps that had broken out all across his skin.

“I’ll do so,” Yaga nodded, though didn’t mention that he hadn’t felt a single twinge from that test. As a professional, he would of course confirm those results properly.

Just then, Dr. Ross gestured in the air, swiping down in his vision. Everyone who knew him knew that he had the peculiarity to interact with his Obelisk system with his hands. Still, it meant that everyone was very well aware of when he was receiving a call.

“Great,” he muttered dryly, shooting a quick glance at Yaga, “We’ve certainly found a few that work on people. We’ll use those as a baseline over there. Ready to begin?”

He nodded to the air, as he listened to, presumably, The Reaper. “Alright, well, here goes nothing.”

Without another word, he shut his system before getting up and stretching. With purposeful steps, the man walked into the control room once more, “Alright everybody, get ready for remote operation. We’ve got some biotics to test on, and not a lot of time before King realizes how close we are to performing the biggest cuckold in history.”

A few of the researchers, especially the women, gave him very strange looks at that.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “well, hop to it.”

Yaga walked up to him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright. They already know that you’re no social erudite.”

“Social eru…” Dr. Ross blinked before huffing, “You’re a real bastard sometimes.”

“I aim to please,” he brought up the hologram of their testing parameters thus far, “I believe we should use the one that just affects you first, confirm if it does anything first, and then move on.”

Dr. Ross gladly diverted to the topic, “Hmm… on a hunch, try the ones from five, eight, and thirteen next.”

“Hunger, sleepiness, and… what was thirteen?” Yaga frowned, not recalling off hand what had happened there.

“Complete obsession with shiny things.” Dr. Ross cackled.

“That… would help?” Yaga still didn’t follow his friend's logic.

“Feeling it first hand, it’s quite intense. And, don’t-ya-know, biotics have shiny blood.” He grinned maliciously, “I suspect that it won’t cross over, but you never know.”

Yaga then remembered that this was also the man who invested a critical amount of research into the more lethal upgrades that the Legion used. With a smirk, he noted them on the priority list, “Indeed, one never knows.”

The two of them brainstormed a few other signal frequencies before opening the forum to the rest of the team, even as Matthew began to watch the results on his side…

-Matthew Reaper P.O.V.-

“Nothing apparent,” I muttered as the first test came through. A few Determinators streamed the information directly back to the lab, making certain that any results would be known in real time. After confirming that everything was working as intended, I spun on my heel and left with the rest of my entourage.

The front line would be a better use of my time, though I certainly was curious as to what effects we might see. At this point, however, I wouldn’t be as much help. Once the lab had narrowed down to at least some degree what kind of frequencies we would need, I’d potentially be more capable of helping. Guess and check could be done by anyone, and considering the fact that we needed to delay the biotic swarm as much as possible, I had no reason to go elsewhere.

On the way back I checked on the rest of the Legion, extending my senses towards them. Nearly everyone was taking advantage of the respite, some of which having already finished cramming food down their gullets and napping wherever they sat. Teams lay against buildings, halfway underneath awnings, many of whom hadn’t even bothered taking off their power armor or emerging from their mechs. Given the state of things, I couldn’t blame them in the slightest. They were safer with their gear than without, and at any moment they might need to go back to the fighting. A few, I knew, would be too wary to sleep even in spite of the exhaustion, but these were in the vast minority.

As I left the wall behind my attention snapped forward to the Determinators that maintained the battle lines ahead. The biotics would take some time as of yet to actually reach us. Instead of remaining idle, the Determinators moved debris, set up traps, and set out several staggered layers of defense. Unlike humans, they wouldn’t suffer from any accidents where they would pull back the front line too early, stranding their flanks to additional biotic attacks. We would take advantage of our ability to think more as one being, rather than as disparate parts.

That was one of the greatest strengths that artificial sentience’s bore, along with simply being inexhaustible of mind. When levied, the Determinators had always proven to be exemplary in combat.

In reality, it had been the Determinator’s idea to be held as the last reserve. They intended to fight while giving minimal ground, even abandoning the idea of retreat. After all, they were aware that if this failed, then it wouldn’t matter if they had a body or not, the war would be effectively over. Surviving this battle was secondary to the success of the mission.

If they fell, their minds would be preserved in data banks on site, but that meant nothing if those locations were then overrun by biotics.

‘They have come a long way,’ I heard a distant murmur in the corner of my mind. Wolvey - whether it was a fragment of Wolven or merely a shattered and warped part of my own mind post-death - had never disappeared, but had certainly become weaker, smaller. I closed my eyes and sought out the source of the voice, unable to ever truly find this fragment of myself.

‘They have,’ came my satisfied reply, ‘And they can go further still.’

‘Mmm,’ the voice hummed once, seeming tired. I waited a few more seconds before shaking my head, feeling the presence dim once more to nearly nothing. I’d never been able to fully understand this part of myself, only that it had waned over time. In a way, I missed it, just as I missed Smith’s constant presence from before.

‘But I can reminisce later,’ I turned my attention from that quiet corner of my mind. With a flex of mental will, I connected to the Determinators all around me fully. An ocean of information flowed around me from hundreds of sensors and thinking beings. With a smile, I felt myself sink into the information, taken up with a chorus of voices.

“We are ready,” I heard them say to me, “What is our order?”

Anticipation rushed through them as my command rippled through them.

“Begin.”