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Nov. 30th, 2008 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acts_of_gordIf things ever became normal again, and he was fully aware of just how unlikely that was going to be, Gordon would never, ever, ever set foot in a glass elevator as long as he lived. The Combine were far too fond of unwalled glass platforms for his liking, and the thought of riding one more elevator where he could see everything going on around him... well. To tell the truth it was a distraction from the fact that he was about to run into the heart of an atomic reactor doing its absolute best to throw off what remained of its shackles and light the atmosphere on fire, and attempt to collar the thing and bring it to heel.
Not much of one. There wasn't much that could take his attention away from the vast swelling, trembling, collapsing, and re-swelling orb of energy overhead. Even the pain that seared his eyes when he tried to look at it (was it his imagination, or did the blue-white light surround a core of utter darkness?) only warned him off a little. It was-
It was horrifying. It was a living and visible warning of the end of the human race, of the disaster that was only waiting for the Combine's signal. But in its own way it had a bizarre kind of-
( If the radiance of a thousand suns
were to burst into the sky
that would be like
the splendor of the Mighty One )
-splendor.
( and I am become Death, the shatterer of worlds )
He shivered and forced himself to look away.
There were unformed bridges to be spun across the abyss, with Stalkers tending the controls to stop him. They didn't last long. The soldiers and Elites waiting for him in the first stabilizer room lasted a little longer, better-armed and self-willed as they were, but in the end they lay scattered around the chamber like a pile of ragdolls. Gordon wondered, just for a moment, what he would see if he took the helmet off an intact Overwatch soldier's head. Was there a face anymore under that? How far had the Combine remade those poor bastards?
Far enough, he told himself, that whatever remains, we'd never be able to recognize it. Leave the unmasking to Luke Skywalker and get on with the work.
The last of the manhacks exploded, its shrilling alarm cutting off abruptly as he punted it into the wall. Escaping unmolested from the chamber after firing up the first stabilizer would've just been too easy, he supposed. Well, nothing to stop him now but-
No. Oh, hell no.
He stood on a tiny metal balcony overlooking the reactor core's gulf. There were no elevators, no platforms, no gantries. The only way left to reach the next stabilization room was to cross the glassy, shimmering energy bridge directly to the center itself- to the glowing, half-melted metal ring that was all that remained uneaten by the heaving shudders of the fluctuating core. One touch of that thing would be like expecting a tin can to survive being touched by the corona of the Sun.
( "It's always an option. It's just one you choose not to take." )
Gordon watched the energy core shudder, flare, fall back-
( Pain fades. Fear fades. Something else takes its place. If I quit, it lasts forever. )
He ran. It was the longest six seconds of his life.
The second stabilizer was back on line, and there were no bridges this time. Just the ladder-like containment claws that would descend from above and envelop the core when everything else was in place, rotating slowly around their not-quite-captive sun.
Either the Combine's normal maintenance crew could fly, or there was no such thing as OSHA in their empire.
He leaped anyway.
The third stabilizer ground to a halt halfway into position. Gordon swore; he had not come through rapid-fire energy orb cannonades and Elite death squads to screw around with an alien machine until the lightning fell. Maintenance failures on the enemy's part were all well and good, but only when they worked in his favor, dammit.
Some poking around revealed a gap in the floor leading to a series of what should've been orb-powered generators. One was operational. Two were cold and dark. He gritted his teeth and went back the way he'd come, to the conduit full of onrushing energy packets. Apparently, he had to do everything himself around here. Damn Combine. Probably sabotaged the thing to make blowing the reactor that much more difficult to reverse.
(It occurred to him, in a dim and distant sort of way, that this probably wasn't a healthy reaction. Better, maybe, than the alternative- screaming at the top of his lungs and hiding somewhere until it was all over- but still.)
As the orbs he yanked out of the conduit snapped into place, the floor panel started to clamber upwards again. He ran for the platform and made it into the room in time to see the stabilizer resume its forward progress. The panels slid aside; it fired its energy stream-
There was one last blaze of coruscating light, and the containment claws descended on the unwary core from all three sides. He scarcely noticed as the extra power drained out of his suit and the gravity gun flickered from blue back to orange again.
Now he just had to find a way back.
Not much of one. There wasn't much that could take his attention away from the vast swelling, trembling, collapsing, and re-swelling orb of energy overhead. Even the pain that seared his eyes when he tried to look at it (was it his imagination, or did the blue-white light surround a core of utter darkness?) only warned him off a little. It was-
It was horrifying. It was a living and visible warning of the end of the human race, of the disaster that was only waiting for the Combine's signal. But in its own way it had a bizarre kind of-
( If the radiance of a thousand suns
were to burst into the sky
that would be like
the splendor of the Mighty One )
-splendor.
( and I am become Death, the shatterer of worlds )
He shivered and forced himself to look away.
There were unformed bridges to be spun across the abyss, with Stalkers tending the controls to stop him. They didn't last long. The soldiers and Elites waiting for him in the first stabilizer room lasted a little longer, better-armed and self-willed as they were, but in the end they lay scattered around the chamber like a pile of ragdolls. Gordon wondered, just for a moment, what he would see if he took the helmet off an intact Overwatch soldier's head. Was there a face anymore under that? How far had the Combine remade those poor bastards?
Far enough, he told himself, that whatever remains, we'd never be able to recognize it. Leave the unmasking to Luke Skywalker and get on with the work.
The last of the manhacks exploded, its shrilling alarm cutting off abruptly as he punted it into the wall. Escaping unmolested from the chamber after firing up the first stabilizer would've just been too easy, he supposed. Well, nothing to stop him now but-
No. Oh, hell no.
He stood on a tiny metal balcony overlooking the reactor core's gulf. There were no elevators, no platforms, no gantries. The only way left to reach the next stabilization room was to cross the glassy, shimmering energy bridge directly to the center itself- to the glowing, half-melted metal ring that was all that remained uneaten by the heaving shudders of the fluctuating core. One touch of that thing would be like expecting a tin can to survive being touched by the corona of the Sun.
( "It's always an option. It's just one you choose not to take." )
Gordon watched the energy core shudder, flare, fall back-
( Pain fades. Fear fades. Something else takes its place. If I quit, it lasts forever. )
He ran. It was the longest six seconds of his life.
The second stabilizer was back on line, and there were no bridges this time. Just the ladder-like containment claws that would descend from above and envelop the core when everything else was in place, rotating slowly around their not-quite-captive sun.
Either the Combine's normal maintenance crew could fly, or there was no such thing as OSHA in their empire.
He leaped anyway.
The third stabilizer ground to a halt halfway into position. Gordon swore; he had not come through rapid-fire energy orb cannonades and Elite death squads to screw around with an alien machine until the lightning fell. Maintenance failures on the enemy's part were all well and good, but only when they worked in his favor, dammit.
Some poking around revealed a gap in the floor leading to a series of what should've been orb-powered generators. One was operational. Two were cold and dark. He gritted his teeth and went back the way he'd come, to the conduit full of onrushing energy packets. Apparently, he had to do everything himself around here. Damn Combine. Probably sabotaged the thing to make blowing the reactor that much more difficult to reverse.
(It occurred to him, in a dim and distant sort of way, that this probably wasn't a healthy reaction. Better, maybe, than the alternative- screaming at the top of his lungs and hiding somewhere until it was all over- but still.)
As the orbs he yanked out of the conduit snapped into place, the floor panel started to clamber upwards again. He ran for the platform and made it into the room in time to see the stabilizer resume its forward progress. The panels slid aside; it fired its energy stream-
There was one last blaze of coruscating light, and the containment claws descended on the unwary core from all three sides. He scarcely noticed as the extra power drained out of his suit and the gravity gun flickered from blue back to orange again.
Now he just had to find a way back.
