ARES:Gods of War

Rotten Apples Spoil The Bunch

In the ruins of New York, namely deep within the tunnels, Matis and their newfound Commander continued their march down the flooded and overgrown metro tunnels of the once-sprawling megalopolis, Rookie himself utilizing his helmet's VISR mode to guide the team forward. They had NV in their eyes, too, but still, he was pointman and leading the formation.

"Y'know?" Drake whispered, looking at the abandoned tunnel. Chunks of tile were missing from the walls, the rusted remains of the turnstiles hanging limply by water-damaged and rusted screws. She continued, "Part of me wonders if we'll ever get to rebuild all of this, or if we're just gonna demolish it, cuz..."

"Demolish it and build anew," Maxwell commented as she scanned the area with her thermal vision. She added, "We can always just remake the monuments. Sure, it's a bit of a Ship of Theseus situation, but the idea that they might survive longer after being rebuilt with new technology works just fine by me..."

"I somewhat agree, though the fact they're this old has its own charm, like even the stone they're built with tells a story," Rookie replied, garnering a chuckle out of Maxwell as he climbed onto the left-side platform of the station. Two rusting, damaged trains lay in the way and they'd have to go through them. He leaned against one of the door frames, then pulled it back with the strength assistance of his MJOLNIR Mark II, then poked the barrel of his rifle through the door and scanned the place.

Only skeletal remains lay in the broken chairs. Bullet holes riddled parts of the walls and the bones themselves turned to dust the moment they were touched. Some still had rags, remnants of clothing, wrapped around them, even if some had been torn to ribbons. Advertisements still hanged, bleached by the beams of the Raptures, but partially legible. Toothpastes, food, fast foods, even a proto-Splenadmin ad was on the wall above a skeleton.

Like a time capsule, frozen. Rookie tried to avoid looking at the smaller skeletons, or the one larger one holding rags in their arms, swaddled like a baby. He scoffed, while Maxwell frowned and said, "We're sorry..." in a whisper. They continued walking down the Ghost Train, rifles aimed forward, with Maxwell herself having to switch to a pistol.

Laplace, though wary, spoke, "We'll avenge these people. Like Heroes do."

"That we will," Rookie replied, determined. He pushed through the door frame leading to the next cart and saw rats skitter away from a corpse. Malnourished little creatures, these rats were, some even seemingly hurt by the Rapture presence. The ground shook slightly, a muffled explosion ringing overhead and sending dust and some chunks of the ceiling falling onto the train.

Drake quipped, "Sounds like the boys and girls upstairs are having a blast," which garnered a few groans out of everyone, while Drake grinned proudly. A villain would always know the worst time for a joke, she thought to herself, so she chose it. Rookie chuckled, however. It was a good pun, if a little like a dad joke. He'd honestly expect nothing less out of Drake.

Maxwell sighed and told Rookie off, "Oy, don't encourage her, Handsome. We'll never hear the end of it..."

"Heh, noted," The man replied as they pushed forward, deeper through the train and into the tunnels. He checked his updated map on the tacpad on his wrist, making sure they were going the right way. He paused, however, when his motion tracker picked up hostile pings ahead. He raised a balled fist and showed the team to wait, taking a knee and peering through the dirt-stained glass.

They kept on the push, weapons at the ready, pushing past corpses, ruined and flooded tunnels and the remnants of human life in the city. Part of Rookie felt exactly like in New Mombasa during the last day of that bloody city's fight, all before the Covenant burned it to ash and glass. He could hear their footsteps reverberate across the walls of the place, feet stirring the dark waters below, too.