Chapter Text
DAY 0
LOG 0
I'm alive again! That's unusual. When I die, I'm supposed to die proper so the next batch can carry on our duty. Getting an actual second chance feels weird.
Where am I, though? I don't recognize this alley.
LOG 1
I asked some locals where I was. They grabbed cleavers and told me it's not their usual choice, but I look more appetizing than any hare they've ever seen. I told them my knives aren't nearly as picky about what they chew up, even filthy cannibals.
That'd make this District 23, then.
As cathartic as it was to graze after getting trounced at the library, I just realized there’s a serious problem on the horizon. I went to the library with the rest of 4th pack, right? And I know one other 4th pack batch got sent in before us. If I'm back in the City, it stands to reason that the previous batch is back too. And that puts me and every other R Corp flunky that stepped foot into the library twice in a sticky fucking situation. There's now a set of copies of all of us somewhere in the City (or more, if R Corp was psycho enough to brew up another batch after fucking up twice already), and the Head of the City has a strict "no clones" rule. Very strict. "Wipe R Corp’s miserable existence off the face of the planet if we don't comply in seven days" strict.
I better get my ass out of this hellhole and back to HQ, then. I'd track myself down right now if I could, but given where I woke up, she could be anywhere in the city. Better to report for duty and make use of R Corp's resources.
DAY 1
LOG 0
I’m back in District 18. R Corp is taking a strict "First Come, First Served" policy regarding Fourth Pack stragglers: first clone to arrive is immediately reinstated, second clone gets politely escorted to the disintegration chamber for early retirement. It's kinder than I expected from the higher ups, honestly. The power squeeze the City's facing these days must be harsher than I thought for the board of directors to be trying to salvage Fourth Pack at all instead of disposing of us on principle. I half-expected them to have replaced us with a fresh batch of Fourth Pack soldiers by now, but it looks like they’re stuck with whatever they can get their hands on until someone invents a new perpetual motion machine.
It's a miracle I made it first. I was up all night trekking across the city to reach HQ. I could have taken a W Corp train to make it sooner, but I’ve never trusted them. I don’t have hard details, but Nikolai adamantly refuses to use them when we have missions in the city, and I assume she has good reasons.
LOG 1
Most of the Fourth pack survivors are coming from the second batch to visit the library. They’ve got an obvious advantage, since they know the first generation's out there. Most of the latecomers don't even know what's going on until the cuffs are already on them. It feels like the City in a nutshell: fair rules of engagement, unfair preparation allowed to one side.
I'm part of the platoon providing security for HQ. We’re disarming the ones that need to die as efficiently as we can, but a few of them are catching wise. We all came back to life with our equipment still in hand, and when a 4th Pack soldier decides they don’t want to just go and die, things get dicey pretty quickly. We’ve kept unintentional casualties to a minimum so far, thank god, but the property damage to the plaza is getting out of hand (some of the Rhinos we shoot at see the writing on the wall and decide they’re taking something with them, usually a nearby building). Quarantine orders have been issued to the entire district while we try to sort out the mess.
We’ll see how much of 4th Pack is left after all the dust’s settled. Hell, we’ll see how much of District 23 is left.
DAY 2
LOG 0
The other captains finished up a few hours ago. Rudolph fried himself from the inside out, shorting out an entire neighborhood's power grid in the process. Maxim wasn't allowed anywhere near himself for collateral damage reasons, but the Ravens found his copy at his favorite curry place and managed to subdue him there. Nikolai walked through the front doors of R Corp, asked if she was the first one there, and was off to the war room immediately to help conduct the recovery effort. When her copy arrived an hour later asking the exact same question, she didn't bat an eye when the cuffs came out. She handed over her equipment and strode off for disintegration without another word. I asked the Ravens if they could save her massive nuts for me, but they told me to fuck off.
There's not so many clones arriving at HQ anymore. I wish I could say tensions are relaxing, but there's a Beholder in the lobby, and that scares the fuck out of me. If we miss even one, we can be sure the Head will know.
LOG 1
I've been relieved of sentry duty to help track myself down. I'm shocked I didn't surface somewhere already. I'm not the sort to shirk duty, and it's been long enough that I could’ve reached HQ from any far flung corner of the city by now.
Could my clone be dead? It's not… totally out of the question. Based on reports from the other Library survivors, they've been surfacing all over, and I can think of one or two places dangerous enough to cause even me trouble.
No use dwelling on that, though. The safest way out of this mess is to find and deliver myself back to HQ to put the question to rest beyond any shadow of a doubt. If I can't do that in another day, the higher ups will have to step in, and then I will be in truly deep shit.
DAY 3
LOG 0
I am in truly deep shit. I've checked the safehouses I stashed emergency supplies in around the city. None of them have been touched. I've been up and down the streets of the district I grew up in, on the off chance that my clone was feeling sentimental. I checked my favorite ramen stall. Firing ranges all across the City. Hotels. Cafes. Not a single trace of me in any place I have any reason to care about.
My time limit technically doesn't expire for another three days, but I can be sure R corp won't wait that long to settle things. They've got me, and that means the easiest way to make sure they're in compliance is to dispose of me. It doesn't help that I'm the only member of fourth pack with a clone still at large. I'd be impressed at how thoroughly she went to ground if it weren't my ass on the line.
Where the fuck am I??
DAY 4
LOG 0
Nikolai called me in. She told me I was one of her finest and she really didn’t want to liquidate me. I told her she could shove her worthless platitudes up her ass for all I cared. Probably not doing my rapidly dwindling lifespan any favors, but to my surprise she had an actual point to make.
"The Library,” she asked. “Is there any chance you'd go back alone to finish our original assignment?"
"Not a chance in hell. Not our mission anymore."
She sighed. "I misphrased. Is there any reason you'd go back to the library for ANY reason? Any at all?” She narrowed her eyes. “An old crush, maybe?"
For the record, I did a damn good job keeping my face straight. "I put aside whatever I felt about the Red Mist a long time ago, Commander. What’s going on here? Are you getting your last shots in before you’re rid of me? Better make it count, bitch." Okay, I completely lost my temper, but I’m still pretty sure I kept my face straight.
"Shut up and listen.”
That was a direct order. No way around it. I squared my shoulders, stood at attention, and half-shouted, “Sir! Blow me!”
Nikolai rolled her eyes. “R Corp still has some questions outstanding about the Library. What the librarians know, what they have on us, what they can do with it. The board of directors isn't planning to throw 4th Pack at it a third time, thank god, but they need someone to do reconnaissance.
"If it's you, that kills two birds with one stone. The Head doesn’t care what happens in the outskirts. If you take the mission, that'll ease up the deadline so we can make a proper sweep for your better half. If we find your clone's corpse, you might even be allowed back into the city."
"And if you find my clone alive? What then?"
"The board certifies her immediately. You would be disposed of the instant you finished your report." I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off. "You're not exactly negotiating from a position of strength. If you get out of the city right now, you have a chance. If you don't-- well, you have about three hours to find yourself before the Ravens formally mobilize against you. I'll let you run the odds on that."
“Three hours? There’s two and a half days left on the deadline!”
“CEO’s not taking a chance on that. I’m not either. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
So, I guess I'm going to the outskirts! If I can even make it to the library on my own, I might have to take another go at burning it to the ground, just to pay it back for all the shit it's putting me through.
LOG 1
I’m in a hurry, so I took a W train to the border checkpoint. It was fine. Dunno what Nikolai’s so worked up over. Maybe she’s just resentful she can’t afford first class tickets.
LOG 2
This is it. I'm leaving the city, most likely never to return, on some kind of hare-brained suicide mission to a library that already killed me twice. If I do my job right, R Corp probably disposes of me the instant I get back. Or I could give up and stay in the outskirts for the rest of my life, which I would consider a much slower and more annoying equivalent to disposal.
Maybe I'm being unfair, though. It doesn't look so bad just outside the city walls. Maybe the outskirts have civilized a bit since the last time Fourth Pack was out here?
DAY 5
LOG 0
I HATE THE OUTSKIRTS!!!
DAY 6
LOG 0
Just doing this to clear the daily log reminder on my stupid helmet! Happy grazing!
DAY 7
LOG 0
busy
DAY 8
LOG 0
I think I bought myself enough breathing room for another log. There were still a few bandits after me last night, but I can only hope they've given up by now and returned to their ambush spot at the City gates. I've been out of the City plenty of times before now without being ambushed. Probably because the rest of Fourth Pack was with me all the other times.
Now that I had a single second to think things through, it makes sense. There must be a steady stream of exiles from the City, and it stood to reason that some of them would still have expensive loot or modifications on them. If I were an exile bandit scumbag-- and it might be time to start giving that career path a serious thought now that the City wants me dead-- I would pick my fights carefully, letting larger groups through without hassle. A single Rabbit must have looked like a juicy morsel.
Well, they won't get that morsel. They got some lucky shots on me before I noticed them, but they're in the rearview mirror now, my wounds are sealed and healing, and I'm not planning to slow down now that I'm through their blockade. I wish I could have spared more time to graze, but I'd like to get the current mission out of the way first. I can fight for pleasure later.
DAY 9
LOG 0
My thoughts keep drifting to that other Myo. If she was standing in front of me right now, would I kill her for all the trouble she's caused me or shake her hand and wish her well? R Corp's selection program is about producing the best me possible, and this clone has pretty fucking well outmaneuvered me at this point. Maybe she deserves my spot. If she's any smart, she's already crawled out from whatever rock she was hiding under to take over my life in the city.
I can see the Library on the horizon, not that that's worth much. Landmarks in the outskirts tend to hang on the horizon for days and days, unchanging, until you notice you're right next to them. At least I can go in a straight line from here.
DAY 10
LOG 0
I’ve arrived at the base of the library. There s a lovely set of double doors at the front entrance. I see two guards, evidently not worried about intruders given that they’d brought out a table and some chairs to play cards. One of them has red hair, is covered in a lattice of scars speaking to a long history of battle, and has been the object of my admiration for almost as long as I've been alive. The other just noticed me and started waving, and is also me.
She wasn’t actually supposed to be here!
All my earlier pontificating went out the window. That bitch is dead. Don’t care about the mission, don’t care about the library, don’t care about Kali. I’ve done this a thousand times before. Just unholster my weapon, take aim, and fire.