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Chapter 6: Landing.
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 07:51:07 +0000 UTCThe Abyss Stares Back
Chapter 6: Landing.
Nathaniel Vazquez.
Europa.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath before starting the simulation. Three days had passed since the drones rolled out of the Foundry like IKEA furniture possessed by demons, and they’d been fixing the Orbiter under Ordis’s gloriously insane direction ever since. I helped where I could, mostly lifting heavy stuff and staying out of the way while the ship rebuilt itself with tech that made Tinkertech look like crap. At least most of them. I suspected someone like Dragon could make tech relative to what the Foundry was capable of, which was… a scary idea.
Controlling a Warframe? Yeah, I still had no idea how the hell it worked. It wasn’t like stepping into a mech suit and yelling, “Go time.” I wasn’t in the Warframe. Technically, I wasn’t anywhere close, and yet, somehow, I was right there, punching things in the face. According to Ordis, being a Tenno meant I was now a conduit for something called Void energy. Apparently, that meant I had been rewired into a half-corporeal cosmic wifi signal with biceps. Yay me.
I should’ve known something was up when I woke up looking like I’d bench-pressed a small car after getting stabbed, but honestly, it didn’t hit me until the Void nonsense started kicking in. When I calmed myself while piloting Mag, this vast, burning energy was inside me, tightly coiled and humming inside my body, ready to be unleashed. That same energy links me to Mag, or any other warframe, and lets me control her like I’m holding a controller made of pure thought. And if that sounds broken, it’s because it is. The reaction time is instant, with not a single picosecond of delay when I think of doing something.
I can pop into reality next to Mag like some weird ghost with a single thought. I can walk around, take in the scenery, and when I’m ready, I just yoink the Warframe to wherever I am, like it’s on a retractable leash. Meanwhile, my real body is apparently chilling back on the Orbiter, probably drooling on the floor or something.
When I realized that… I stopped flinching when the Grineer inside the simulation shot at me.
Oh, and the Void stuff? That’s not just for Warframe hijinks. I can dash through solid walls, fire beams of pure “fuck everything in that direction,” go invisible like a teenage mutant ninja burnout, and none of it comes with a manual. It’s all trial and error, baby. Mostly error. And somehow, that’s not even touching the part where I have fifty more Warframes stashed somewhere in this ship. I don’t know how they all fit. Magic TARDIS storage, maybe. I’ve stopped questioning it.
It was instinctive, thankfully, but that didn’t mean I didn’t need to train like hell before using it again. The first time I Void-dashed, I accidentally launched myself into a swarm of angry MOAs, displaced them like a bowling ball through a stack of angry toasters, and promptly got lit up by lasers before I even figured out which way was up. I barely made it back into Mag before going full murder tornado and turning them into scrap.
I didn’t know if Excalibur or Volt could pull off the same kind of mayhem Mag could… but once I stopped second-guessing myself and actually let loose, my Warframe was nuts. I couldn’t wait to try the others, but Mag and I had a thing going. And maybe it was cheesy, but I liked the idea of her being the one I brought back to Earth, especially when it came time to deal with the Merchants. It should happen soon if Ordis was to be believed (big if, knowing his problems).
Ordis… well. Sometimes, he worried me, like when he glitched mid-sentence and started cackling about “cleansing the filth” or casually recommending massacres in that cheerful tone of his. But I’d gotten used to it. He was a friend. The only one I had while stranded in space, inside a ship with enough weaponry to make Africa gush in excitement.
I chuckled. A flat, synthetic sound came from Mag’s mouth, which still weirded me out sometimes as I prepped for the sim.
I ran my hand down the side of my Braton rifle. It was… well, a normal-ass rifle, to be honest. Nothing flashy. But I liked it. Reliable, clean recoil. Big enough mag to handle a crowd.
And most importantly? It hit what I aimed at. Unlike some of the janky crap my dad handed me to “build character” when I was younger.
Not gonna lie, though; the bow tempted me. Who doesn’t want to go full space-Legolas? But for training, I figured I’d stick to something more grounded. More Earth Bet normal. Maybe I’d swap it out when I got back. Still had time to play space Robin Hood later.
For my secondary, I went with the Kunai. Because let’s be real, I was a space ninja from hell now. If I wasn’t packing throwing knives, it’d be a crime. Plus, with my Warframe’s boosted strength, I could yeet them fast and hard enough to pin a man to a wall like a goddamn industrial stapler. Not that I was fantasizing about doing that to the guy who stabbed me or anything (wink). But if he was still alive after meeting Wally… well. He probably wasn’t in great shape.
And last but definitely not least, my favorite toys are the Sun and Moon dual Nikanas. According to the inventory description, they used to belong to some legendary “Dax” warrior, which sounded important. I didn’t know who the hell that was, but apparently, they were elite bodyguards for the Orokin, the big-shot space gods who built the Warframes. Didn’t matter to me. I picked them because they looked like dual katanas, and I had zero regrets. I was fast, fluid, and, to be completely honest, ridiculously deadly with them.
With all my gear set and probably too many blades on me, I took a breath and got ready. This might be my last training session for a while… and I had to make it count.
The moment the sim started, the world snapped into chaos.
No countdown, no dramatic buildup, just a Grineer butcher roaring in my face, swinging a cleaver big enough to split a bus. Mag moved before I could think, instincts kicking in as I ducked low and slid beneath his swing. My shoulder clipped his leg mid-slide, knocking him off balance, and before he could recover, I sprang up behind him and drove a kunai straight into his neck. The illusion of blood fizzled into light, and the sim was cruelly accurate. It was accurate enough for everything.
More enemies were pouring in. Grineer troopers with their ugly rifles, Corpus crewmen crackling with shields and lasers, and a pack of Infected scream-charging like they were late to a buffet. Medium difficulty, I reminded myself. Totally fine.
I obviously started with easy difficulty three days ago, but I felt confident enough to try this now. The enemies were sturdier, deadlier, and stronger. They were enhanced in every way, to the point that they were three times more difficult to kill than the lowest tier. I didn’t know how or what the other three difficulties were, but I sure as fuck wasn’t ready for them. Even at this level, this same group could and would destroy the Fodder of most gangs in the Bay.
A Corpus Tech tried to flank me. I didn’t let him. My Braton barked once, then two controlled bursts flew out of my gun, and his shield fizzled out just as a Grineer lancer caught me with a lucky hit in the back.
I staggered, biting down a curse. “Rude.” I rolled behind cover as the alarms flared. Plasma bolts and ballistic rounds chewed into the pillar I was behind.
That’s when I felt it… The Void pulsed as if waiting to be unleashed.
I manifested with a thought. My real body appearing just behind the cover. Void energy thrummed along my arms as I dashed forward in a blur, phasing past gunfire and right into a clump of Corpus.
Before they could scream, I released a Void Blast, a shockwave of raw force that threw them off their feet like ragdolls. One slammed into a Grineer trooper mid-stride. Both vanished in a puff of digital static.
I didn’t see an infected in my blind spot in time. An Infected runner clipped my side with a claw, throwing me off. I grunted, momentum crashing, and barely managed to Void Sling out before the rest of the pack dogpiled me. The infected were the most dangerous despite their basic abilities… the sheer number of them was a problem.
I reappeared mid-air above them, falling hard. “That would be a bruise if I was outside.”
No time to recover in a fancy way, I dropped straight back into Mag and slammed the Warframe’s boots into the floor, sending a small shockwave rippling outward. The Infected stumbled. I moved.
Warframes aren’t just fast. They’re stupid fast.
I was already moving before my feet hit the ground, sliding under fire, flipping over obstacles, bouncing off a crate to gain height. My twin Nikanas flashed like extensions of my thoughts, cleaving through armor and flesh with cruelty that should have worried me. One Grineer tried to shield-bash me. I side-flipped over his head and buried both blades in his back before he could even look up.
Momentum carried me into a wall run, slicing through Corpus drones as I sprinted sideways along the vertical surface. My kunais flew mid-run, one after another, into helmeted heads, pinning two to the wall before I launched into another dash, reappearing behind a heavy gunner.
This one turned faster than I expected. I got caught in the gut with a backhand, sensors flaring red as my shield broke.
"Okay, damn, she got me good-“ I muttered, tumbling backward. The gunner raised her weapon, but I wasn’t there anymore.
I dashed through her, reappearing behind and unloading my Braton into her neck, just between her helmet and body armor. When she dropped, I didn’t wait. I switched to my blades, dropped low, spun into a sweeping slash that knocked an Infected crawler off its feet, then drove both swords into its chest before kicking off and flipping back toward the main floor.
I landed in a crouch, not feeling winded at all. Only a few enemies remained, just wounded stragglers limping through the simulation.
I didn’t even get close to them.
Instead, I stood up slowly, cracked my neck, and raised one hand.
"Alright, let’s wrap this up."
The air around me shifted. Not wind, not heat, just a pressure change, like the whole room suddenly remembered gravity was a thing and cranked it up to eleven. Mag’s systems surged as I channeled Void energy and triggered the ability.
Crush.
The effect was immediate. The remaining enemies froze mid-step, mid-breath, mid-everything. Their limbs snapped inward, weapons clattering to the floor as they were ripped off their feet by invisible force. Bones cracked. Armor buckled inward like it was being squeezed by an angry black hole. The simulation didn’t hold back on the visuals either. Every one of them collapsed like crumpled tin cans, twitching once before flickering into static.
I exhaled slowly, lowering my hand.
“Goddamn,” I muttered. “That never gets old.”
The sim flickered, returning to silence and scorched metal. It was over. Again.
"Not bad," I muttered to myself. "Still got clocked once or twice; I should not have thrown myself like that.”
A soft chime echoed through the simulation room.
"Operator," Ordis’s voice filtered in, "the Orbiter's structural integrity has been fully restored. Navigation systems are calibrated. I do believe… we are ready to return to Earth."
I blinked. My breath caught. Mom.
"Oh."
The sim faded into static, the metal of the real world reasserting itself around me.
"About time."
Later.
“Ordis, what do I need to do, my friend?” I asked seriously as I observed a drone make some finishing touches to the screen in the middle of the main room.
“Absolutely nothing, Operator,” Ordis chirped happily, “The destination is set to Earth, as per your request. I just need a confirmation so that we can start our journey.”
“You have it,” I grunted, my mind flashing with memories of my last night on Earth: the store, the merchants, my mother. Everything that happened weighted on me, and I was worried about Mom. A lot of things could have happened while I was gone. “The sooner we arrive, the better.”
“As you say, Operator,” Ordis chuckled, and the Orbiter came to life.
“Also, make sure no one sees our entrance,” I warned, “I’m sure the Orbiter has a cloaking device or something.”
I saw the lights flicker as something happened, but everything looked the same.
“Everything is ready, Operator,” Ordis's voice came through the screen as the small drone drove itself to a hole in the wall. "We are cloaked and moving. Enjoy the ride.”
Fifty minutes passed in silence, only the soft sound of the screens and some basic commentary from Ordis. Still, even that was rare before I felt the hair on my neck stand in alarm.
I didn’t know why at first. No alarms. No sudden movement. No system alerts. But something… shifted.
I turned slowly, almost afraid of what I’d see outside the viewport.
And then I did.
A massive and pale shape drifted past the edge of the moon, slow, elegant, and, most importantly, downright terrifying.
Wings stretched wider than her own body, moving without effort, atmosphere, or sound. A figure in white and silver hovered in space like a ghost from a fever dream, a trail of feathers floating behind her like stardust. They glimmered under the light, giving her an eerie appearance.
The Simurgh.
My throat closed.
I froze, hands clenched so tight I felt the tendons lock up. Every instinct I had screamed at me to run, hide, shut off every system, and pray she hadn’t seen me.
She hadn’t turned; she didn’t even move nor glance in my direction.
She just… floated there, like a divine statue waiting for some unseen reason to act. Her gaze was on something else. Somewhere else. Not us.
My heart thundered in my ears. My mouth was dry. I couldn’t look away. Part of me expected her to just blink and be here, tearing the Orbiter apart, dismantling my mind thought by thought until I was nothing but a twitching heap on the floor.
But she didn’t.
No sign of reaction. No interest. No sound. Just silence and movement and feathers vanishing into the dark.
I didn’t breathe until Ordis finally broke the silence.
“Operator?” he asked, his voice soft for once. “Your heart rate has spiked considerably. Is that thing why you are so scared?”
“You don’t know about her, Ordis,” I croaked, my voice thin. “She is the worst thing in the whole world.”
I backed away from the viewport, legs unsteady, body buzzing with leftover panic. She ignored us. Why? She should have seen us. Felt us. We were close enough that if I’d opened a hatch, I could have thrown a kunai at her and waited to be massacred.
And yet… nothing. I didn’t understand what was happening. Maybe she didn’t care about me, saw me as an ant that couldn’t do anything to her, or didn’t notice my presence. It's not like I could ask her, but the lack of action didn’t help my nerves. The Orbiter continued, and with every passing second, I felt like she would be watching us retreat and smile or something, but she did nothing.
By the time I calmed down, the Orbiter was descending. Ordis managed the atmosphere reentry like it was a casual Sunday flight, gliding us down through clouds with not so much as a single alert blip.
“What is so dangerous about that being, Operator?” Ordis asked calmly.
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You have no idea, Ordis. She’s the youngest of the three Endbringers but easily the scariest. She can see the future... literally. One glance, and she knows how to ruin your life three weeks from now. She messes with your head, makes you turn on your friends, and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late. The heroes say she’s the least durable of the three, but nothing they throw at her ever works. She builds tech decades ahead of anything we’ve got, out of scrap, corpses, or thin air. And her telekinesis? She can throw buildings like they’re cardboard. You seriously don’t understand how terrifying she is.”
Ordis hummed calmly. “Oh, she sounds dangerous, Operator. She reminds me of the Narmer when Prosecutor Ballas put the entire Origin System under brainwashing. Every single planet was under his control all at once. Operator Hayes had to make some tough decisions during those times.
As for her durability, I doubt she compares to the Sentients. They adapt to any kind of damage to become absolutely invulnerable. The only thing that can harm them is Void energy.
And her strength… well, she sounds like the Eidolons. Operator Hayes used to hunt them for their cores when he had free time.”
I shook my head disbelievingly, what the fuck was in the Origin System? Ordis made the Simurgh sound tame in comparison to some of those things. I really needed to check the Codex for everything.
After five minutes more of silence, Ordis finally spoke.
“Cloaking is holding. We are undetected,” Ordis confirmed, cheerfully unaware that I’d nearly had a complete panic attack in the hallway.
The familiar terrain of Earth appeared below, brown and green and broken in places, but it still looked like home. We weren’t flying over a major city, thankfully. Just scattered suburbs, long-abandoned buildings, and old lots where weeds grew taller than cars.
Ordis guided the ship low, following old coordinates I’d plugged in manually. The neighborhood hadn’t changed much; there were still cracked roads, graffiti on every wall, and rusted-out cars pretending to be street furniture.
Then I saw it, the house I had grown up in. It was big… at least compared to the rest of the neighborhood. Dad told me that he bought it with Money from the Mexican Government in thanks for his services when he arrived in Brockton Bay, and Mom earned well, too, so we weren’t in financial problems before Dad died and Mom got into drugs.
The Orbiter slowed, rotating just slightly before landing with the softest thump as the repulsors deactivated. It settled in the backyard like it belonged there, nestled among half-dead trees and old gardening tools buried under overgrowth.
Thanks, Dad. I scoffed under my breath. When he bought the adjacent house to make a backyard, I doubted him, but now it worked wonders to hide the Orbiter.
I stared at the back door of the house for a long second. Nothing moved. No lights. No motion behind the curtains.
It didn’t look like Mom came back here in days. My stomach twisted.
I de-synced from Mag and let myself manifest, flesh and blood returning in the middle of my old home turf. The air smelled like mildew and dust. No rot, thankfully. But nothing good either.
Opening the door, it took me ten minutes to check every corner to see something, but the house was empty.
Sighing, I took my phone out and called my mother.
The phone beeped, but she didn’t answer. Fear filled me, but I squashed and called a good friend of hers before she went to the deep end.
“Hello?” A male voice sounded from my phone.
“Dr. Kerrigan?” I asked softly, “This is Nate Vasquez.”
There was a pause.
"...Nate?” The voice sharpened instantly. “Nate, is that really you? Jesus. The police said you were missing, presumed dead-”
“I’m not,” I cut in, throat dry. “I’m alive. I… just couldn’t get back sooner.”
Another pause. Less surprised now and more cautious. “Where are you?”
“Here in Brockton,” I said. Vague on purpose. “I just got back, and no one’s here. The house is empty. Do you have any idea what happened?”
The line crackled, and I heard him exhale hard.
“Nate… I don’t know the full story,” Dr. Kerrigan admitted, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “Your mother… she’s in the hospital. She was brought in by Assault, of all people. Said he found her half-conscious in a bad part of town, bleeding, with signs of blunt trauma. She’d been… through a lot.”
I felt my stomach sink.
“She’s stable, but…” he hesitated, and that hesitation hit harder than anything else. “Her injuries were severe. Head trauma. Internal bleeding. They called in Panacea. She stabilized her physically, but...”
“But she doesn’t do brains,” I finished for him, whispering.
“Exactly.” He sighed. “Amy tried. She really did. But your mom’s mind… whatever damage was done, it’s... still there. She’s not responding well. At first, she could talk, mostly babbling, but we had to put her in an induced coma for her safety.”
I swallowed hard, knuckles whitening around the phone. I could feel my world crashing down and burning to cinders.
“Do you know who did it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Was it the Merchants?”
“Can’t say for sure,” Kerrigan said. “But signs point that way. Like I said, I don’t know the details, but… it fits their MO.”
I stared blankly at the ruined fence in my backyard, the orbiter hatch opening, and an even smaller drone coming next to me. However, I ignored Ordis for the moment.
“She kept asking for you, you know,” he added after a moment. “Before she started to fade. She kept saying your name. Then she stopped.”
Everything in me went cold.
“Can I see her?” I managed to ask.
“Of course,” Kerrigan replied, quieter now. “Just… be ready. Her body is fine… but I can’t promise she will wake up anytime soon, if at all.”
I didn’t answer. The call ended soon after, and I stood in the backyard, the phone still in my hand.
Everything felt like it dropped out from under me.
My chest was tight. My jaw locked. I could feel the heat building behind my eyes before I even realized I was crying. Not sobbing… just angry tears burning their way down my face while I stood there like an idiot.
Rage boiled up inside me hotly. It sat in my gut like a bomb with a ticking timer.
I’d come back from space armed to the teeth. Stronger. Smarter. Ready to fix things.
And I was still too fucking late.
Comments
InfinityReads99
Yeah… I wanted to write something that hurt. As for why he didn’t do anything, well, he loved her. Sure, he hates her now, but at that time? Nate was in love.
Mylael
Man I really hate bro's ex. The fact he didn't kill her for fucking up his mom is miracle
