The pod’s doors closed under its silent motors, and Marcus felt his consciousness fading. He had gotten get a few hours more sleep and went into the pod immediately after waking up. He waited, expecting to be back on the ship, only to find himself in the same white room he was in when he first got the pod.

He also wasn’t alone. A scion was floating in front of him, and if a scion could smirk, Marcus was sure it was it.

“Good day Mr. Corvo.” The scion greeted in its electronic voice.

‘You got to be kidding me.’ Marcus thought to himself, as the avatar was an actual AI in the system and not just a glitch. Still, the AI being in his pod meant there was a good chance that it had a hand on what had just happened. “I guess it’s safe to say that you’re the observer mentioned in the clause within the contract?” Marcus replied.

“You are correct to assume. We decided to have a more direct observation of the games played by humans.” The scion bobbed up and down. “We have requested, and agreed to take physical form in the game but will not take part directly. We have a presets to which form to take, but you as the pilot can choose our form to take depending on your preference.”

Marcus sighed. He signed the dotted line and took the money. He could, of course, renege back on the contract, but that will get him with nothing but wasted time. It is true that he was thankful for what the scion did, but his unjustified xenophobia could only hurt him in this new world he’s in. At some point, he would have to start to living with the fact that humanity has its own big brother now. Might as well start to accept that fact.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with.” Marcus said, looking over the scion’s available avatars.

It was prime time again. The crowd flowing through the market was like a tide of people going against each other. It was a time when students finish their school and working people get off their shifts, adding to a time where player density can increase in multiples within just an hour.

Marcus looked over his shoulder to see a small drone resembling a helicopter and a main body for a camera. The model was based on a black hornet nano drone on which Marcus had spent some time reading about, mainly on how crazy it was to fit such a high technology in a package smaller than a man’s palm.

The drone flying over his shoulder was enough of a novelty that it was attracting attention from other people. Marcus ignored the looks and went straight for the armory, all the while dodging questions asked by any passing curious player.

“I see you’re moving up in the world. First scrounging for spare parts and now buying full guns in bulk.” Stoner said as he processed the payment. “Good thing too. Never knew holding those in the shelves turned out to make me money instead of costing me.”

“Ain’t you glad for a friend like me?” Marcus grinned. “Add in a couple hundred double ought buckshot too.”

“Oooh. We got a big spender right here.” He said.

Marcus paid. It was a bit more than the agreed amount, but the actual price of the tea easily made up for it. He then had everything packed up in a duffel bag and was preparing to leave.

“Listen Hart, I know what you’re doing.” Stoner said. Nodding towards the bag.

“Is that going to be a problem between us?”

“It will if you keep it up. No one buys that much guns for personal reasons, and you can’t convince me and anyone else otherwise.” Stoner replied, leaning forward. “Look. I like you. The captain and his crew aren’t keen on people running guns out of his ship. I’m only able to get you those guns since you sold them to me over the counter and I haven’t gotten to properly logging them into the inventory. But right now, I think it’s too much trouble for its worth, so I’m going to have to make this deal of ours be the last for now. You can still buy guns from me, but not in suspicious lots, got it?”

“I got it.” Marcus replied. “Sorry for roping you in with my shit. I didn’t know you had to run that risk.”

“It’s not a problem. If you can get yourself permission, then I’ll be your guy. But until then, things are going to keep being where they are.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Marcus said, gathering up the guns. “I better get going.” Still, he was grateful for their short business arrangement, however short it had been.

“You do that.”

Stepping out of Stoner’s shop, Marcus cinched the large backpack strapped to his shoulder and looked at both sides of the hall. It was clear. He had checked the population logs inside the ship using the game interface and should expect more players walking the halls. But sometimes, the halls were bare of players. It was like the ship itself was breathing and was caught between breaths. This was one such occasion, and Marcus capitalized on the lack of people moving about as he headed deeper into the ship.

Alone and over encumbered, Marcus had to take the same route he and Columbus took when they completed his quest. Descending ever deeper into tightening halls flanked by utility rooms filled with equipment left abandoned, deemed too much trouble to salvage, Marcus followed vaguely familiar hallways and turns until he came upon the familiar crawl space. He ducked into it and crawled the narrow utility access to find the locked door. With the codes given, he opened it and looked down the hole leading to the underground rail network.

Dropping the rope and his haul first, Marcus tied himself in a harness and slowly descended into the tunnels. The lights that once illuminated the length of the tunnel on their first time were now gone. The pitch black darkness was even more oppressive that he couldn’t even see his hand held a few inches off his face. Raising the rifle and depressing the pressure switch, his cone of light stabbed through the inky blackness and panned to the far edges of the tunnels. He found no reflective eyes shining back at him and made doubly sure by looking through his thermal scope, now mounted on a newly bought ballistic helmet.

He needed to be as careful as he could. With him moving along the dark tunnels alone, the added weight also severely slowed him down. Not only that, the weight strapped on his back not only burdened him by its sheer weight but also slowed his turns, as he had to account for and compensate for its momentum.

Walking through the tracks, a part of him was already drawing plans on a hand cranked rail cars, like the ones shown in those old black and white Buster Keaton movies. All he would need was to find one of the trains that used to run these tracks and salvage them for their axles. Add some transmission connected to a hand-crank mechanism and you’ll have a car capable of traveling through these rails carrying more cargo and traveling much faster than a normal man.

Going further down the tracks, he paused as he smelt something foul. The sweet smell of death mixed with decomposing refuse told him that danger was near.

Striking a flare, Marcus threw it as far as he could down the dark tunnel, banishing the dark with its dull, red glow. The light didn’t reach far, but it was enough for him to see shapes, silhouettes and eyes peering back at him behind hole entrances and center pylons.

Striking another, Marcus held the flare with one hand, with the rifle in the other. He kept the light on the weapon turned on as he scanned the burrows where the Malifs scampered into. Blasting the holes closed would only result in nothing, as they could just burrow out once again. Marcus then kept his movements slow and deliberate as he crept through. All the while maintaining the entrances within his vision.

Luckily, the beasts seemed to share Marcus’ aversion to a fight. It developed into a quiet stare down as he slowly made his way through their territory. They kept their distances and Marcus could see them through their eyes shining against the darkness. He was content on keeping them away until he arrived at the cave in where he would turn and crawl into one of the dug tunnels.

Crawling backwards into the tunnel, he made it into the other side and whistled towards the sentries. He sighed in relief. His nerves were frayed. It was like the time when he walked into a bear when hiking on a trail for a date. The girl at the time was adamantly against guns and so he only had a can of bear spray on him that luckily wasn’t used as the bear quickly lost interest and slowly walked away.

After that, Marcus learned his lesson and made sure to never walk the woods without packing heat.

Unlike the last time, the sentries were now much more alert. They set up better barricades facing Marcus, and they all ran into their positions at the sound. They stood back-lit by the firelight, facing him, and ducked into cover.

“It’s me! Don’t shoot!” Marcus shouted, slinging his rifle and walked out of cover, hands raised.

“Hey boys.” He greeted, “Don’t mind me, just delivering something your chief needed bought. Don’t worry, I’m alone.”

With a beckoning wave, Marcus was ordered to step forward. He followed. The sentries kept their guns pointed at him as more goblins ran from behind their lines. More orders, and a team of two was sent ahead to check the halls behind him.

Watching them, Marcus noted an improvement in their readiness but could still do with some improvement, even under his untrained civilian eyes.

The scouting duo came back, and they led him through the line. They took his duffel bag to check its contents and promptly gave it back with a strong shove.

The hostilities well received, Marcus wondered if they were the same goblins he took out the last time he was here, and if they were, whether they kept their memories of the last time he killed them. Looking at the looks they were giving him and the barrels pointed his general direction, Marcus guessed that they do.

“Come on, man.” Marcus teased, “we’re all friends now.”

No response came, but a barrel jammed on the small of his back was clear enough.

Seeing as he was still alive and not shot full of holes, Marcus followed the command as they led him through the rest of their line and back into the main tunnels. Doors closed behind him with a slam and he looked around with his thermals to find the tunnels clear.

Still, he didn’t trust the goblins as far as he could throw them. He unslung his rifle and walked along the line. Looking at the drone hovering next to him, he asked. “Hey, can you talk?”

“Yes.” the scion’s black hornet avatar replied.

“Can you humor me for a bit?”

“Yes. I can.”

“Okay. There’s like what? Twenty billion people living all around the solar system and you guys just happen to pick me. With that, I got better chances of winning the lottery, so why me, big brother?”

“High chance of referencing the book 1984 of the term ‘Big brother is always watching you’. Your assumption is correct that we have been watching you since you have been taken out of cryopreservation. The reason is that you maintain higher danger rating than the average human being.”

“You know, in any other context, I would have taken that as a compliment. So what now?”

“Nothing, we will continue to observe you as you have done no crime.”

“So, as long as I keep walking the line, I’m good.” Marcus replied. “Then, I guess you’re my shoulder angel then, huh?” Or better yet, shoulder executioner.

“Correct.”

“So why all this convoluted bullshit?” Marcus continued. “You could just peep into my life without hooking me up with that experiment gig.”

“You needed assistance. It is to reduce the probability of you falling into ruin and increase the chance of you committing a crime.”

“Hey! Go fuck yourself, robot. I said that I was thankful for what you did, but maybe I should take that back!” He snarled, turning around and pointing at the camera. “Get this straight. I’d rather eat food from the trash than steal from or harm someone else. And just like whatever code you have in there, there are lines I just don’t cross, there are commands I don’t follow. Just because I was born in my country and my time doesn’t mean I pose any danger to anyone. Sure, you can say that I’m dangerous. The shit in my head might put anyone in prison if they try to do them now. But knowing something is not a crime, doing something criminal is.”

“Virtue is not what a man can’t do, but what he can do but decides not to.” Marcus sighed. “What you did is the same thing as me thinking that you’re not worth trusting just because you are alien. Take that as you will.”

“Understood.”

“Go back to observing.” Marcus said, turning around. “We’re done talking.” Who would have thought that a bit of small talk could devolve into what it ended up? It might have been better for him not to have known, as he would have preferred for him to be thankful for the alien AI. Still, honesty has its own merits, even though how much it hurts. What was he thinking, expecting sympathy from a machine, a robot? He would have had a better chance of taking tears off a fucking stone.

Scoffing, Marcus looked over his shoulder to see the drone body of the scion was still there, observing. Maybe it was expecting a violent outburst, or maybe a tantrum to come out of him, but Marcus would not give it that. Instead, he looked forward and ignored it. He walked by the length of the tunnel with not a word uttered until he arrived at the shrine and its silent, recessed guardian.

He looked up at the relic. A machine built to guard the doors of the station, still working and diligently doing its duty even long after its purpose was due. The city above it was long lost, and the station behind the thick bulkhead it was guarding was no longer inhabited by people, but by other lesser creatures who made it their home.

He looked over the drone hovering over his shoulder once more, then dogged the hatch and opened the heavy door.