Chapter Text
Auditor felt the fire surge before anything else.
The ground shaking only confirmed it.
Shame. She’d been improving too.
Series 12: Explosion
Maybe this project wasn’t worth the hassle. It was a nice thought. Just burn Hank and his comrades with powered clones so he didn’t have to be present.
He might as well check out the damage. He teleported to the area. Clipboard and report papers in hand to note anything of importance.
Due to how recent the explosion was, he could still tell what had been burned.
Two buildings.
An agency car.
Bandit corpses.
He stopped when he spotted 9309 standing there. Largely unharmed from a distance.
The clipboard Auditor had taken with him was put away. He had to check on a potential survivor.
And his other special project.
The Employer walked over to 9309. His ideal was that the clone was alright. He might need time to grieve but he’d be able to return to training physically almost immediately.
9309’s shoulders hunched as the Employer approached.
Then he burst into flames.
Auditor tried to put the fire out, but he was unable to.
It was coming from within the clone in front of him.
Auditor needed to shut off the part of him wanting to investigate that.
“Why?” the clone asked.
Auditor remained silent.
“Why did you kill her?”
“I didn’t,” the Employer said evenly, “I wanted her to live. I have no control over what happened.”
“It’s your power,” the clone said. He was seething as he turned towards Auditor.
Auditor didn’t control how it meshed with his clones. He couldn’t. Even the clone in front of him could light himself on fire and Auditor could do nothing to extinguish it. Not without significant effort.
“Alright then,” 9309 said, “then what about me? When I was in her position two years ago?”
Auditor didn’t know what the clone was talking about.
“You gave her special treatment because she was your little project,” the clone said, “but I was almost executed for underperforming. I tried to burn YOU out of terror. And you said ‘of course it’s you’ as if my existence was a crime!”
Auditor had no memory of this. He stepped back as the clone moved closer.
“What made you change your mind, sir?” the clone mocked, “I thought all underperformers were to be killed! I thought I survived because you were trying to find the source of my power and give it to someone better! Since when does anyone get an exception?!”
9309’s fire burned hotter. It was stable. He wouldn’t die. But the intensity meant the clone was likely going to pass out from hitting his limit. No, this was not the time to analyze him.
“This is all your fault!” the clone shouted, “it’s your fault that she’s dead! It’s your fault I burned down the training facility! It’s your fault that the fucking sun is dead!”
Auditor thought to hit him.
“I mean.” 9309 laughed. “Who the fuck builds an improbability drive and an entire agency of clones who can’t do shit to kill ONE MAN YOU ARE GOING TO OUTLIVE ANYWAY!?”
A voice in Auditor’s head told him not to interfere. The clone needed to vent. He wouldn’t listen to Auditor’s excuses. The clone had never been loyal to him and would certainly not start now.
That last accusation struck a nerve the Employer didn’t want to unpack.
The clone’s fire erupted out of him. Auditor heard screams of frustration. The air was a bright orange for a moment.
Then it stopped completely. 9309 stumbled.
Auditor caught him as the clone’s eyes rolled back into his head and his legs gave out.
Priorities:
Report on 12,098’s death.
Assure time off for 9309.
Gain insight into how 9309 is currently the only successful, living trial of Project Ember.
Prepare for 9309’s inevitable second dissention. Attempt to gain the clone’s trust. Turn a blind eye to minor sabotage. Request permission to observe and train fire powers outside the agency.
This clone was clearly hired by 2B to do something at the agency. SQ was paying him well for routine mercenary work by the clone’s own admission.
He'd have to strike a more permanent agreement with his old friend.
“I’m sorry,” Auditor said. Unsure if the clone was still awake. “I don’t have an answer for you. I’m afraid I don’t remember.”
9309 gave a tired sob in his arms.