The man hadn’t moved for years. What had begun as a series of plates down his back and shoulders that allowed him to control mechanical arms and attached weapons had grown over the years. Now he was cocooned in steel and plastic.


    His face was covered with a spherical mask that fed tubes into his nose and throat. Despite his powers he couldn’t escape his biological form like that bastard Bob. He needed oxygen and nutrients so he had designed a system to provide them without his having to leave the device he had come to think of as his throne.


    His muscles were stimulated electrically to prevent wasting but despite this effort he had grown thin. His spindly limbs were lost in the interfaces that now covered his entire body, connecting his nervous system to the machinery that was both a curse and his greatest achievement. His eyes had been removed and cabling ran from the hood over his head directly into his optic nerves.


    He could see everything. Well, he could everywhere he had a camera. That area included most of what had, until very recently, been his domain. His mosquito drones provided widespread but low quality coverage while his battle suits offered much sharper details. He sent his mind down the cabling and optics that linked his hidden throne to the production network.


    No fancy transmutation powers for him, he had to work in traditional ways that wouldn’t have been unfamiliar to someone from before the Advent. God, he hated Bob. The man''s mind encompassed the Seattle factory and he began amending the production schedule. Having now seen what this Monarch was capable of he needed to alter the design of future suits.


    Liberty was such a stupid name, he grumbled in his mind. The bloody woman was a speedster, but a very dangerous one. Everyone was dangerous in some fashion since the Advent but  her level advantage made her a real threat. Her interest in occupying his domain across much of North America made her into his problem.  A problem he intended to resolve.


    A dull thud echoed in his ears, or at least the auditory receivers he’d interfaced on top of his biological ones. He ran a diagnostic. Back in the early days he’d had some feedback issues as he increased the number of suits and drones he was running. He had solved that with pseudo-AI monitoring most of the feedback and flagging important data streams for his personal attention. Another thud echoed through him and his atrophied arms twitched in response.


    His arms twitched? He ran another check over his physical body. He usually ran a biological check once a day and this morning had revealed, other than steadily atrophying limbs, that he was in perfect health.


    “Well this is weird! You aren’t rooted but you might as well be! Bit of a dead end dude.” A woman''s voice was clearly speaking to him within his helmet. Panic rushed through his body, his recycling facilities buzzed to life. He had top notch security around his throne room, despite secrecy being his greatest strength. In a fraction of a second he scanned through the logs and found nothing had been triggered but he was convinced he was no longer alone in the heart of his territory. He activated cameras and microphones that he hadn’t used for over a decade.


    Leaning down, with her face pushed through his helm, was a slender woman wearing loose robes. Liberty! He thought.


    He didn’t keep any weapon systems in his throne room. An oversight he would have to remedy. In light of his secrecy and the impressive outer layers of defence he hadn’t wanted the risk of having powerful weapons so close to his fragile biological body. How the hell did the bitch get through?


    “I see you’ve found me,” Belisarius’ voice came from a speaker built into the towering machinery that spread out behind his body.


    She moved back, her face phasing through the metal of his hood, and reached out to plink a fingernail against some of the outer casing that held him vertical. His body shuddered slightly at the thought of what she could do if she only flicked a little harder.


    “It wasn’t that hard. Look, there’s no reason for us to be at odds, right? I’m here to help!” she said with a bright smile as she moved away and began examining the dark room. It was only lit by the pinpricks of light coming from the old interface tables he had never gotten round to removing after he entombed himself in his throne.


    Belisarius sent frantic signals, summoning battle suits to the single doorway that led into this room. Specialist devices whirred to life deep below him and began charging up. Should he let them fully charge a sizable piece of valuable real estate would be vapourised. If it came to his real body being taken captive civilian deaths were the last thing he would give a shit about.


    “This is a gross invasion of my privacy,” he ground out.


    “I’m sorry about that!” she grinned again in a way that didn’t reassure him. “I just wanted us to be on the same page. Less chance of misunderstandings if we all know where we stand. I know you’re not happy, spam-man, but we all need to rub along ok? We’re in this for the species!”


    “Why did you say I’m a dead end?” he asked, regaining control of his fluctuating emotions.


    “You can’t go off-world. You’ll be useful against the early phases of the Void invasion but once they get established you’ll be more of a hindrance. Well maybe not. They won’t get Essence from killing your machines but you lack the numbers the Old Mech can put out. His tech is fascinating, yours seems more like advanced versions of what we had before.”


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    “My tech is far beyond what we had before the Advent,” he snarled. Fear went down his spine. Had he made an error with the throne? If he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with other humans sooner or later he’d be nothing. All his dreams would turn to dust.


    “Maybe.” Liberty shrugged. “I wasn’t into that kind of stuff before so I’m probably not the best judge. Anyway, I just came by to say hi and make sure we both know where we stand. We do both understand where we stand, right?” The smiling girl became serious and although he couldn’t see any change he felt an aura of menace spread out and smother him.


    His bio monitors ticked up as his heart rate increased and there was another whirr from the recycling facilities he was built into.


    “I believe I understand perfectly. Perhaps we could discuss the details of our collaboration at a later time, when I’ve been able to draw up my capabilities for you to examine?” Drug pumps had kicked in to bring his heart rate down and his voice was smooth and emotionless as a result.


    “Wonderful! I’ll see you soon then!” Liberty turned and walked through the metre thick steel, reinforced with dragonsteel bought at extraordinary cost from that bastard drone swarm, like it wasn’t even there. The battle suits waiting on the other side twitched but Liberty didn’t emerge. They waited for two minutes on high alert while Belisarius ran every scan and check available to him before he concluded she had left. Probably.


    ***


    “So what’s the problem?” asked the Treant, half a world away from Belisarius. John stretched out in the comfy chair he had blipped into the middle of the Treetown Grove while he visited his dad seeking advice. He sighed and leaned forward to look up at the giant ambulatory tree.


    “How do you go about something like this? Do we offer to hold auditions? Do we ask a bunch of people and then take our pick from the ones who say yes? It seems rude,” he grumbled.


    “You’re worried about hurting people''s feelings? Who are you and what have you done with my son?” laughed the Treant. John flicked his dad a middle finger as leaves fell from Seb’s higher branches wagging back and forth.


    “You know what I mean. If we’re leaving Ryn behind… It’s not even just her and her team. There’s Greg and the Department, Jasmine, Amit, hell even Brendan! Leaving people pissed at us… it wouldn’t feel right. Vic’s freaking out about it. We’ve already pissed off a lot of people over the years. The Imperium has been gutted but there’s the folks in the Court whose family, kids a few times, I had to put down. Among many others. We’ve got enemies.”


    “And friends, son. Ryn alone is almost as dangerous as you are now. If they’re going to use Mars as a home they’ll be about as safe as they can be. When the kids come back to Earth to level… You know it’s going to mean fighting? She’s already more of a soldier than you are! She grew up with the system and monsters!” When a Treant shrugs it is impressively expressive. “I think you’re overthinking this. Just pick two that are a good fit, people you know and trust and stop being a fanny!”


    “Thanks for the words of support, Dad,” John grumbled. “You’re probably right. We’re getting some upgrades, tech and bio, before we go. Whoever it is needs to be on the whitelist for Signatory implants and enhancements.”


    “So that narrows it down a fair bit. Why not just take Breaker and Starfall? They were both dropping hints at being up for it the other day.”


    John blipped in a smoke and lit up.


    “I think I’d prefer to have them here watching your and Ryn’s backs,” he said frankly. “We need trustworthy people here as well.


    “Take Amit and a healer then. Wayfaire has some decently levelled healers now, one of them would be useful, or someone from Ascension. You’ll probably get some injuries while you''re swanning around the cosmos. I’d rather you had something other than Bob’s replacements to fall back on if you lose another arm.”


    John sighed, a cloud of smoke expanding around him in the chill evening air. “We do need a healer. But we need damage and utility as well. If we get dumped in a situation where we don’t have access to the stash we’ll need as many skills as possible. Skills might almost trump powers to be honest.” He lapsed into a brooding silence and glared at the trees.


    “Want me to take some of your acorns with me? Planting new groves on alien worlds might be fun for you,” he offered to change the subject.


    “I don’t see why not. I’m not sure how it will feel. The grove in New Zealand is somehow directly linked to me despite the roots not joining up.”


    “How is Iyla doing?” John asked.


    “She’s fine. Pegasus has become a lot of work but the town is thriving again. Stop trying to change the subject. Make a decision boy!” barked the tree.


    “Jesus, alright Dad. I’ll have a think about it.”


    “That’s not making a decision!” laughed Seb. “That’s procrastination!”


    “Maybe.” John grinned up at his father, ruby eyes glittering as they caught the light. “I don’t want to go, not really. Ryn will be older than Evie is now when we get back, assuming we get a run like the Monarchs. I’ll miss out on so much. That’s assuming she survives,” he said bitterly.


    “She’ll be fine. As long as she doesn’t piss off Life or Magic she’s about as apex predator as you,” Seb replied in a gentler voice.


    “I’m not apex predator material, but I might see if Bob can build me a shoulder mounted plasma cannon. That would be sweet,” he grinned at Seb and rose to his feet, the chair vanished back to his rooms in the Bunker. “Well old man, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you so much for your wise council,” he bowed slightly as Seb chuckled.


    “So you’ve made a decision then?”


    John grimaced but nodded. “Yeah. Now I just have to sell it to the rest of them.”


    “Dare I ask what, or rather who, you’ve decided on?”


    “You can ask!” John grinned as he tapped the side of his nose. “See you later Dad.” He vanished from the sunny clearing in the forest. Seb glanced around, muttered about idiot young people, then walked into the trunk of one of the giant trees that lined the space.