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k-nayee · 2 months

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Messenger's Daughter 300

wc: 4k a/n: video clip for the movie scene is inserted if y'all wanna see!

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The dusty road leading to Sparta was long, every step taken heavy with the heat from the Sun.

Your father, the official representative of King Xerxes known as the Persian envoy, led the procession on foot.

You walk a few paces behind, eyeing the skulls of conquered kings dangling grotesquely from his horse.

Having spent countless days and nights studying what you can on Spartan culture, a sense of urgency knot in your chest of the potential outcome.

"Father we cannot do this," you plead, the desperation in your voice cutting through the dry air. "Bringing these skulls will only provoke their rage, not intimidate."

Laughter erupts from the men around you, coarse and mocking.

"A woman lecturing us on matters of war?" one sneers, his face creased with disdain.

The others join in, their laughter a choir of ignorance.

"What's next, a child advising the king?!"

Anger flares within you, burning away any hesitation.

Facing the man who dared to belittle you, your voice rise with every word. "You are fools if you think the sight of those skulls will make them cower! Spartans are proud, fierce...they will meet this threat with blade and blood."

As you spoke, uneasy glances were exchanged, your words igniting a flicker of doubt amongst the retinue. But your father saw only insubordination.

"They are—"

"Enough!"

Your words are cut off by a hard slap across the face.

The blow sends you reeling, head snapping to the side as a searing pain spreads across your cheek.

You look up to meet the steely gaze of your father, his hand still raised from the strike. "Your emotional, fear-driven babble have no place here. You have no right to speak of war and strategy."

His words sting more than the slap.

"Shall I remind you what lacks between your legs? The only reason you are here?!" Your wavering frame makes him step back with a scoff of indignation.

"Put your veil back on...and know your place," he turns away, dismissing you with a wave of his hand to rejoin the men who reveled in your humiliation.

You stood there for a moment, the pain in your cheek echoing the ache in your heart.

You always thought, hoped, he would grow to value your intelligence. That he saw the potential in you went way beyond the traditional roles of women, perhaps one day take his place as Messenger.

And dare say, even respect you.

But his words laid bare the truth. You are nothing more than a pawn in his task of diplomacy and power.

You can't help but feel a sense of loss. Not just for the father you thought you knew, but for the future you had envisioned.

With a heavy heart, you reach up, fingers trembling slightly as they drape the veil over your face.

The fabric felt suffocating, yet it was a shield, hiding your stifling tears from the world

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

As you approached the gates of Sparta, the atmosphere is palpably heavy.

The Spartan guards, known for their stoicism, eyed the group with a mixture of suspicion and disdain.

Your father stepped forward, his chest puffed with a misguided sense of pride along with his men. "I have come to speak with your Spartan King in the name of our ruler King Xerses!"

You linger at the back, exasperated from your father spouting praise of the tyrannical leader's strength and power.

The veil's once comforting ability of anonymity is rendered useless by the guards' unnerving scrutiny.

A shiver runs down your spine once you finally pass their security, the heat of their gaze still following as you continue on to the heart of the city.

Despite the streets thrumming alive with activity, the tension is too palpable to ignore.

"Greetings!" Amidst the crowd of disciplined warriors and stoic citizens, a man steps forward, addressing the group with a sly smile.

Of average height, slightly shorter than the Spartan warriors, his presence still commanded attention.

He tilts his head in greeting, smile deepening till the point teeth show. Had you known better, you would say he resembled a wolf.

"I am Theron, a representative of the esteemed Spartan council. You must be the Persian envoy we've been expecting."

The delegation's arrival to the gate had already reached the ears of Councilman Theron it seems.

Your father nods. "Indeed, I am. We come bearing a message from the mighty Xerxes. Bringing with us, peace and cooperation."

Waves of disgust sweep over you upon catching his subtle hand movement towards you. 'So this is my purpose ? To be an offering of 'peace' incase a King needs more persuasion to bend the knee.'

"Peace you say?" Theron's sharp eyes catch the gesture and seems to understand the indication by the way he stares on you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Spartan hearts are not easily swayed by outsiders. Our loyalty is unwavering..."

As he talks, his gaze trails down your figure before settling firmly on where yours would be.

You shift uncomfortably under his leering, feeling as though he sees right through the veil that covers your face.

"Let us proceed to the palace, you will have the opportunity to present your message directly to our leaders there. Follow me."

You barely take a step when you're yanked to your father's side. "Speak out of line—ruin this chance of negotiation...and I will have your tongue."

His grip on your arm is harsh, tight enough to leave a bruise, but you refuse to show weakness.

Instead you remain looking forward, lips pursed as you give him a single nod.

Satisfied with your obedience, he moves to walk alongside the political man and delve into light conversation while you stay in his shadow.

After more minutes of walking, you finally reach the steps of the great Spartan palace.

You try to look and absorb as much as your veil would allow you, eyes wide in hopes of searing everything you see into memory.

It wasn't until accidently meeting the unwavering glare of a nearby guard did you remember where you are with a grimace and found focus on the floor.

The atmosphere feels suffocatingly tense, your clattering footsteps echo against the stone walls as if a reminder of your foreign presence.

A Spartan guard approaches Theron, whispering something into his ear. He nods subtly, view sweeping over your group before settling on your father with a practiced, stiff smile.

"I'm afraid it will be a while until King Leonidas and Queen Gorgo can receive you," the Spartan official announces, his diplomatic riddled voice echoing slightly in the spacious hall. "They are attending to matters of the state. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Your father, seizing the opportunity, steps forward. "Councilman Theron, while we await their majesties, perhaps we can discuss the matters at hand. The great King Xerxes desires only peace and prosperity for all."

Expression unreadable, Theron nods, though his eyes betray a hint of skepticism. "Of course, peace is a noble pursuit. Sparta understands the significance of such journeys and messages. Rest assured, your words will reach the King and Queen's ears in due time."

As the men engage in conversation, you find yourself drifting away to a window.

The stone is cool as you lean against its edge to take in the rugged landscape of Sparta. A breathtaking view that should offer solace, is instead a stark reminder of your reality.

'Is this what my life has come to? ' you wonder silently, eyes tracing the harsh lines of the distant mountains. 'I have no mother, no siblings, no one but him... and now, even he feels like a stranger.'

Your hands begin to tremble, the fabric of your veil fluttering slightly with each quiver. 'Once this negotiation is over...

Fear gnaws at your heart, the future a looming shadow filled with uncertainty and dread.

'...what will become of me? '

The soft patter of feet breaks you out of your solitude of thoughts. You turn to see a child—a young girl, no more than six or seven, standing a few steps away.

"Chryseis!" a voice urgently hisses.

Glancing through your lashes, you catch a glimpse of a woman, presumably the mother. Her face is etched with lines of worry and fear, trying to coax the child back to her side.

But Chryseis doesn't heed her. Instead she steps closer, doe eyes fixed on you.

Conversations around begin to dim as the onlookers' attention move towards the unexpected meeting.

You feel the weight of every gaze; some curious, some wary, all fixed on the interaction.

They seem to expect you to react, but rather than focus on the growing apprehension, you direct your full attention to the little Spartan.

Turning to face her fully, you silently admire her courage. You're aware of how ominous the black veil and attire made you appear to those younger - often assumed to be a Mistress of Death.

Yet, she stands there, undeterred.

You take a step forward, deliberately ignoring the guards whose hands move subtly towards their weapons. They adjust their stances, body ready to intervene should the need arise.

Untainted by the tense atmosphere, Chryseis extends a cup of water towards you, her small hands trembling slightly.

Your heart warms at the gesture, a sheer contrast to the cold indifference you've faced since arriving. 'She must have seen me all alone while the others drank and conversed, and believed I was thirsty...'

Kneeling down to be at eye level with her, you carefully take the cup from her hands.

In a smooth, almost reverent motion, you lift the veil; revealing your face for the first time since setting foot in the land of Warriors.

"Efcharistó," you whisper, the Spartan language feeling unfamiliar yet comforting on your tongue.

Chryseis's eyes widen, not in fear, but fascination of your appearance.

The Grecian sun bathes you in a golden light, causing the rich brownness of your skin to take on a glowing hue.

Your features are youthful: soft cheeks that seem to capture the gentleness of your spirit, thick eyelashes delicately frame your eyes, while your soft lips form a smile so sweet and kind, it could weaken the hardest of Spartan hearts.

Framing your head, full and voluminous curls cascade around your face and shoulders. Amongst the dark strands, a thick strip of white stands out, running boldly from the front of your scalp before weaving through the mass of locks.

The most mesmerizing feature, however, is your eyes. They are a indescribable shade of blue, almost ethereal.

The sunlight catches in them, making the specks of turquoise and azure within shimmer akin to the clearest Mediterranean waters.

Those who initially regarded you with suspicion, are now taken aback by your unveiled beauty. The air is filled with a palpable sense of awe.

Seizing the moment to spread a little joy, you reach into your garment and dramatically pull out a goose feather. The large, white plume shimmers as you present it to Chryseis with playful grandeur.

"You know..." you begin, capturing her attention with a teasing smile. "I've had the honor of meeting Victory herself. She spoke to me of you Spartans..."

She's instantly captivated, a gasp escaping her lips as she leans in closer. "R-really?!" she breathes out with wonder.

Matching her energy with a frantic nod, you continue, "Yes! She told me to forever sing the praises of your strength and valor. And as a token of proof, she bestowed me this white feather."

"She commanded me," you add, lowering the feather to Chryseis' level with a deliberate motion, "to give this feather to the one who dared to be brave enough to face me. Whose heart knows no fear, who stands undaunted before strangers from afar..."

The others are silent, watching as you extend the feather to the child with an encouraging smile. "...and here you are."

You are rewarded with her excitement filled giggles, small hands eagerly reaching out to grasp the feather.

Her delight is infectious, resonating so much through the crowd a few reluctant smiles appeared from even the sternest of bystanders.

When Chryseis' mother steps forward to gently coax her away, the little girl casts a lingering look back at you.

Her smile is wide and radiant, clutching the feather like a precious treasure.

The warmth of the moment fades as tension seeps back into the air with the arrival of King Leonidas.

He is a vision of a Spartan warrior: his presence commanding the room effortlessly.

Each muscle sculpted as if created by the gods themselves. Eyes, sharp and discerning, pierce through the crowd.

You feel a flush of heat coursing through you. The attraction so immediate and powerful, it leaves you breathless.

Your attention shift, falling upon Queen Gorgo. She...her beauty both striking and intimidating. Something within you trembles—maybe it's the strength in her gaze, the unspoken power in her stance.

Whatever it is, the confusing the stirring in your heart worsens at the sight of her.

"My King and Queen," Your trance breaks at the voice of Councilman Theron. He steps to the royal couple with a bow. "I was entertaining your guests."

"I am sure." The Spartan King dryly responds, his focus and bored-like stare fixed on your father instead.

"Before you speak, Persian. Know that in Sparta everyone—even a King's messenger—is held accountable for the words of his voice. Now, what message do you bring?"

A grin spreads across your father's face. Undeterred, he extends his arms grandly towards the sky. "Earth and water!"

King Leonidas' eyes narrow, a mix of disbelief and disdain flickering within them. "...You rode all the way from Persia...for earth and water?"

He says nothing. His silence telling all that needs to be answered.

Witnessing the entire exchange, Queen Gorgo releases a scoff. "Do not be coy or stupid, Persian. You can afford neither in Sparta."

You nearly freeze in shock. 'She...'

"Wha..." Initially taken aback by her boldness, it is replaced with disbelief. He turns to her with disgust coloring both his features and voice. "...What makes this woman think she can speak among men?!"

Without missing a beat she retorts. "Because only Spartan women give birth to real men."

Inspired by a mere woman causing such a charged atmosphere, you step forward. "And yet, beneath the mountain, there lies a pile of the weak and brittle—the newborns deemed unworthy by the same warriors...What of them? Are they not also born of Spartan women?"

The weight of your words stuns everyone into silence, every eye turning towards you.

Some of the Spartan onlookers rise in anger, taking your words as an insult to their way of life. But they pause upon noticing the reactions of their king and queen.

His expression is thoughtful. While hers...she simply stares at you with a small—could it be approving? smile on her lips.

Your father's reaction is immediate.

A mix of shame and anger covers his face, eyes shifting between you and the gathered Spartans.

"____!" He snaps out your name in rage, a sharp reprimand for your audacity.

Without warning, he yanks you to his side. His grip is tight, fingers digging into your flesh with a painful intensity.

"You dare to shame me in front of these...these Spartans?!" he hisses in your native tongue, his words laced with venom.

His chastising is ignored.

You instead hold contact with King Leonidas and Queen Gorgo, unflinching even as the grip on your wrist tightened.

"Speaking out of turn? Challenging their ways as if you hold any sway?! Was my hand not enough?"

His voice grows louder, more insistent; but you are anchored by the eyes of the Spartan rulers—their expressions unreadable yet not unkind.

"Must I beat your place into you?!" He harshly captures your chin, forcing your gaze to his.

The proximity to his rage is terrifying; you can see the unbridled fury in his eyes, feel the heat of his breath.

You subconsciously shrink under his view, a faint tremble of your lips revealing the fear instilled in you from a young age.

It seems years of facing his temper and punishments in the name of 'remaining silent and submissive' have left too deep of a scar.

"There is no need for such reactions," the King Leonidas intervenes, booming voice authoritative and calm.

Queen Gorgo, stare never removed from you, speaks with a clarity and strength that resonates within the hall. "Your words are bold, foreigner, and they cut deep. But it is the Spartan way to face even uncomfortable truths. We do not fear words; we learn from them."

Visibly shocked by their rebuke, your father releases his grip and steps away.

The shift is palpable, from a moment teetering on the edge of violence to one of cautious quiet.

"Come," The Spartan King takes the attention once more. Turning, he begins to walk, a silent command for others to follow. "Let us walk to cool our tongues."

The courtyard still echo from the tension of the standoff before resuming back as the assembly falls into step behind their king.

As you follow, it gives the citizens of Sparta who witnessed the entire exchange a chance to disperse with murmurs and speculative glances.

The path taken is led to a more secluded part of the city; it is here, under the imposing architecture and watchful eyes of its greatest warriors, does the conversation continue.

Having regained his composure during the brief interlude, your father stands firm. His voice carries across the open space, filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

"If you value your lives over your complete annihilation, listen carefully Leonidas. Xerxes conquers and controls everything his eye rests upon." Briefly flitting to Queen Gorgo, veiled threat in his look, "He leads a force so massive, it shakes the earth with its march. So vast, it drinks the rivers dry."

The messenger fails at noticing the changing mood as he continues his sung praises. "All the God-King Xerxes requires is this, a simple offering of earth and water. A token of Sparta's submission to the will of Xerxes."

At the mention of the God-King, King Leonidas stops in his tracks. "...submission...?"

You shift at the steady yet barely contained fury in his voice, growing wary of the feeling of dread growing in the pits of your stomach.

"That's a bit of a problem." The Spartan man turns, corner of his mouth twitching in disdain. "You see...rumor has it the Athenians have already turned you down. And if those philosophers and boy lovers found that kind of nerve..."

Seeming to pick up on the shift as you, Councilman Theron suddenly step forward. He has a thin smile, a light and forced chuckle leaving his cautious frame. "W-we must be diplomatic."

King Leonidas silences him with a simple raise of the hand. Giving the cunning man a brief glare from his peripheral, he retorts. "And Spartans have their reputation to consider."

Your father's patience thins.

"Choose your next words carefully, Leonidas." His voice is cold, warning sharp and laden with danger. "For they may be your last as king."

It's silent. Leonidas says nothing for a moment.

Hardened gaze scanning from the envoy to the Persian bodyguards, his thoughts began to drift as the distant laughter of children fill his head.

'Earth and water...'

The freedom of his people...

'Earth and water...'

The simple, pure life they have built...

'Earth and water...'

Seeking silent counsel; his eyes finally rest on Gorgo. The mother of his child, his Queen.

In a fluid motion, Leonidas draw his sword.

The metal sings when bared and is swiftly brought to the Persian messenger's neck. The armed men in your delegation reacts with alarm, but the Spartan guards are quicker.

"Madman... you're a madman!" your father gasps, terror evident in his voice as the Spartan guards mirrored their king, their weapons drawn against the Persian force.

"Earth and water," Leonidas coolly declares in resolve. He begins to back the man towards the open well—a final answer to the demands of Xerxes. "You'll find plenty of both down there."

"N-no man, Persian or Greek, no man threatens a messenger!" your father protests, desperation coloring his words the closer he's inched to the void.

Steadfast, the King steps closer, the tip of his sword barely touching the envoy's skin.

"You bring the crowns and heads of conquered kings to my city steps. You insult my Queen. You threaten my people with slavery and death." His voice rises with accusation, each one a blow that seals the older man's fate. "I've chosen my words carefully, Persian. Your message is clear. It is that of a war party!"

"This...this is blasphemy!" the cornered male cries out, his eyes darting desperately for any sign of mercy.

In doing so they land on your lone form standing amidst it all, wide teary eyes watching everything.

But...

You're not captured?

'Why isn't she-'

"My King, please. This is madness." Councilman Theron's last-ditch effort to prevent chaos interrupts his internal confusion.

As your father's heels dangled over the hole, the King shares a final look with his Queen.

A firm nod is given.

And that's all the confirmation he needs.

"Madness?" Leonidas echoes, a storm brewing in his eyes. "This. Is. SPARTA!"

With those final words, he delivers a powerful shove, sending your father plummeting into the darkness of the well.

His screams echo hauntingly into the void as Spartan warriors unleash their wrath upon the remaining Persians.

"Leave one man alive," his voice shatters the trance you were in. You try to blink away the disbelief, the memory of him falling to death fresh in your mind.

'Run. Run away now...'

Feeling the stare of another, you look up only to lock gazes with your father's killer.

King Leonidas, the man who had just sealed the fate of your father and traveling caravan. Is looking at you.

The unwavering conviction in his eyes nearly roots you to the spot, every instinct screaming at you to flee.

'...before he kills you.'

In a desperate bid for escape, you turn to run...only to be caught by a nearby Spartan guard.

"N-No!" You yelp in fear. Desperately dragging your feet and squirming in hopes of breaking away, it seems fruitless as his grip remains unshakable while pulling you.

Panic sets in.

The closer you get to him and the ominous pit, the more palpable your dread becomes.

It isn't until you're standing before King Leonidas do you realize just how overwhelming he truly is.

His presence alone commands attention, but it's his voice that anchors you back to reality.

Booming and authoritative, he speaks. Not to you, but to the sole survivor of your group. "Tell your god Xerxes, Spartans fear no one. We bow to no one..."

In a swift motion, King Leonidas grabs you from the guard and yanks you against him. His arm wrap around your waist possessively, a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

You can feel his strength, the hard lines of his body pressing against yours. It sends a wave of both exhilaration and fear through you.

He reaches up, his fingers entwining in your hair before pulling your head back with a firm tug. Throat exposed to the cool air, your breathing becomes shallow at his next move.

His breath is hot against your skin. You feel his lips and nose lightly tracing along your pulse line, reveling in your trembling figure and rapid heartbeat.

You're acutely aware of his body pressed against yours, the controlled power in his every movement.

Fear of what might come next battles with the indescribable feeling of being so close to the current ruler of Spartans.

"Warn him," he murmurs with a low growl, face hidden in the crook of your neck "warn him of the force that is coming..."

Lifting his head, King Leonidas meets the terrified eyes of the sole survivor, "...has made a wife of his pathetic Persian messenger's daughter."

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white-and-pastel · 1 year

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Gate of All Nations also known as Gate of Xerses at Persepolis, Iran 486-465 BC https://www.facebook.com/becomesuppo.../museum.of.artifacts/

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wpdariacutnes · 5 months

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Me: Wall zero staws is done like wery is done wall line's done/ redsinging a zero series and none series zero das zero well done / enifing knows a stella x zero forever so relly yeah das better get dyfrent cup man now type bit eskuze

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Like true is not one a pips button guy a someone dill a games a lot

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Or supraze a vile like radom say gimi a wona but ploblem is smole you knows is black on jack coffe shut because is more been self not wona say and take distans but puch bitch and not say stupid because act like dys a enifing same a team and yeah bitch get me boom away like dude i get you wona been puch so not stop you but dont cry a cup sea but it lol

Someone more wirdo and supraze same type wona a dive someone rezan like im dont knows like dont get me woring I not shiti a huge guy is so huge Holly sun king sames lanes but colors slangs but is never heppend. . . Like is not hit someone after dys code universe genext but it so yeah no a dys parts (same a wood because dont filings dys enifing element or bit or hit hem in train)

Someone radom rezan but wona so so sooo gaga but is a colonel a but dys a nextgen and wery get supraze a good eskuze why wona because code so petty but it a "Hit a sover a kid on hem chess kings" because so smole enifing dys ver and canda do but it a more huge like dont worry im do dys but more deam laters because finks but dys a code king boy's and lot a kid/child a round bullshit is a lot is like get charge but it dys so explode mean how guy Stell life a get i dont knows 27 kid sarcazm because how knows (you not look a legs now wings but it?)

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Goodi: X ere play a Hit on face alia like shut start let me terra ritche a rot now bitch round on round

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🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝🎧🥝

Offical epic note: 01.12.2023.r

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#rosepink_megaman_ver #megamancomunity #mereal #wpexpleing #parents take rule #youtube #art 2023

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pastedpast · 10 months

Text

The Gate of All Nations also known as the Gate of Xerses at Persepolis, Iran, which dates back to 486-465 BCE.

CHECK & ADD MORE INFO.

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museum-of-artifacts · 3 years

Text

Gate of All Nations also known as Gate of Xerses at Persepolis, Iran 486-465 BC

Visit us: https://bit.ly/artifactsmuseum

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mutant-distraction · 3 years

Text

Gate of All Nations also known as Gate of Xerses at Persepolis, Iran 486-465 BC

https://museum-of-artifacts.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-persian-immortals.html

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bleedingcoffee42 · 5 years

Text

Eureka AU- Part 7

In which I pull something out of my ass because I’m writing this on the fly.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

“You're not a doctor Ed!”

“The multiple doctorates on the wall beg to differ, Alphonse.”

“You sound like Mustang.”

“I will disown you.”

“Your specialties are metals and tasteless Gothic design, who are you to criticize my Virus strain?”

“The human body is comprised of chemicals. I'm a chemist!”

“Show me your Doctorate of Medicine!”

“Water (35 L), Carbon (20 kg), Ammonia (4 L), Lime (1.5 kg), Phosphorous (800 g), Salt (250 g),Saltpeter(100 g), Sulfur (80 g), Fluorine (7.5 g), Iron (5 g), Silicon (3 g) and fifteen traces of other elements.”

“Is that a recipe for people?”

Marcoh was appreciative of the help but he was about to kick both the Elrics out of the room. “Boys, can you tone it down?”

“I've never found the mute button.” Alphonse said and walked over with his data to show Marcoh. “I don't think its an option on that model.”

“I was under the impression you two got along.” Marcoh said and looked at Al's model. It was very good. Way better than his own. Yet the loud Elric got the credit for being the better scientist of the two.

“He's stressed and worried about Hawkeye.” Alphonse said softly. “It's easier to direct his emotions at me than to have him break things.”

“He does sound like Mustang.” Marcoh said and heard a high pitched shriek from Ed from across the room. “I think we have a winner.”

Ed came over as Marcoh put the model up on the projection screen for them to all stare at intently. “Well how the hell do we unravel that?”

Al looked over at him. “I don't think this is going to work. Vaccines become ineffective because viruses mutate. Even the slightest mutation can change what we're looking at.”

Marcoh mumbled, “I was thinking that too. I was hoping for an epiphany, hoping we all developed similar models and we all came up with something wildly different.”

Ed wasn't about to accept that his tactic had cost them time so he spit out the first thing that came to mind. “Then we make it out of nanites instead of biological material so we can recalculate what we need from them once they are in the body.”

Al and Marcoh both looked at Ed in awe. Then they looked at each other and in unison said, “That could work.”

xxxxxxxxx

“Nanites?” Roy asked as he walked around Alphonse's lab.

“This is my project, nano-robots..” Al said and projected the view from the microscope in the tank of nanites to the screen for everyone to see.

“I know what you do here, Al.” Roy said. “I also know it's experimental technology that you have never tested on a human being but want to inject into my wife to combat a mystery virus that is still an unknown.”

“The thing is...” Al said and looked over at his brother. He tapped a few keys and held his finger over the enter button. “It has been tested on a human.”

Roy watched him press the button and Ed raised his hand, suddenly the hand turned metal and changed into a blade. “Why do I get the feeling this is all going to come back to that Necromancy project that nobody has debriefed me on yet?”

“I didn't get my limbs back.” Ed said. “They're still on the other side of the gate.”

“Oh.” Roy said and took a deep breath. “So now I see why you want to keep that portal to hell in the middle of your lab instead of telling me what it actually does.”

“I will get them back.” Ed sneered at him as Al changed his arm back to it's normal flesh.

“He got me back.” Al said. “I'm real, not a robot.”

“That implies that you were a robot at one point.”

“For a few hours....” Al said and looked back at his computer. “That added up to a few days.”

“The point is,” Ed said. “It works. They can be programmed to do whatever we want.”

“We have a design now.” Marcoh lifted up his tablet with the diagram. “Our own virus that can change as needed to combat the strain it finds in the body.”

“How?” Roy asked. “Does it have it's own lab? Is it going to go in there and do it's own experimenting and research on the Anti-Xerses virus and adapt to kill it?”

“It would if you would give us that Ultimate Eye tech.” Ed said. “The project tested today.”

Roy cocked his head. “It's human sized.”

“If we had that we could give it to the nanites and they could integrate it into their systems.” Al said. They'd dissect it and divide it among themselves.”

Roy could just feel them reaching now. This was turning into the middle school science fair he had to judge every year.

“Hey.” Ed said and snapped his fingers at Mustang. “Don't roll your eyes. I've read Jude's research. Those contacts are made of a film that shares the same premise as Al's Nanobots. You don't think that's it's just some magic, do you?”

“It is nanotech.” Al assured him. “I collaborated with him on some of the research. The interface is actually nanites attaching themselves to the cornea and relaying information through the eye to the brain.”

Roy mulled it over. He knew that, he had read the reports and knew that it was beyond Jude's ability to develop nanotech for his project to actually work. The film he created was close, but he wasn't capable of connecting it without help from Alphonse. “There is a pocket watch in Jude's lab with the lens in it. Take it.”

Marcoh watched the boys run out of the room and looked over at Mustang. Alone he asked, “Isn't that the only prototype?”

“Raven can go fuck himself.” Roy said and looked at the presentation in front of him of a hastily created virus schematic and microscopic robots banding together to make themselves look like the drawing. “Does this have a chance in hell of working because if it doesn't, I'll open Ed's gate of Hell myself and walk in with my wife to keep her alive until you figure something out.”

“I believe it will work.” Marcoh said. “Al can program the nanites as they feed us back the data and give them a course of action. With that lens they should be able to see to the very core of the virus's make up.”

Roy waited and soon the boys returned with the watch. Ed clicked it open and Al took it out and dropped it unceremoniously into the tank of tiny little robots. “Well, there goes a few billion dollars.”

“Send the bill to General Raven.” Ed said and looked up as the little robots broke up the lens among themselves.

Roy couldn't find a better answer than what was being presented to him here. He, however, was going to be the one who gave the approval to allow his wife to be used as a test subject. Al and Ed were whispering now, talking about how to merge the Ultimate Eye program with the Nanite one. So he opted to give them space, “Bring it to the infirmary when you're ready. I'll brief Dr. Knox.”

#fic #royai #eureka au

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bleedingcoffee42 · 5 years

Text

Eureka AU- Part 6

The obligatory hospital episode where we throw medical words around like commas and hope nobody questions them.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy sat down on the floor of their laundry room where Riza chose to set her military foot looker when she moved in. It never was unpacked, it just remained here as a piece of furniture they set their clothes bins on. It was one of the few pieces of décor she brought to this home, one utilitarian wooden box painted in olive drab that stuck out like a sore thumb against all his simplistic pieces. He didn't realize until now that she really didn't have anything of her own, except for this.

Sure there were clothes, but who looked to the closet for possessions to define a person? He felt like he was opening a buried treasure chest, a look at the history of one 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye prior to her arrival in Eureka. This predated him, and he hated that he never really opened up the discussion about her past in case she did want to share it. Instead he felt like he was invading her privacy as he opened the truck to go through it's contents.

He was limited for time and he didn't want to dwell on it long. After this was over, he would tell her in great detail about Hughes and ask her if she had anything she wanted to share. He looked at a neatly folded pile of fatigues and lifted them out to set aside. Her dress uniform hung in the closet, that she wouldn't dare wrinkle. Then there was a belt and holster. Some blankets. Boots. A gun cleaning kit and mess kit. Knives. And a small safe with a touch pad key code lock. That he grabbed and immediately entered the code: 0611.

The case opened and there was a gun. No surprise. The journal secured to the lid was what he was after so he grabbed it and locked the box back up. He opened the little book and saw meticulously kept, handwritten records of dates, times, coordinates and operations. Causalities, notable events. A record of every military action she had been a part of, starting with a confirmed kill as a cadet on the first page.

He blinked. She hadn't even graduated yet and they sent her to the field as a sniper? A sniper. She wasn't just a great marksman, she was one of the elite! Then the pages of dates and times and numbers, bodies that piled up as she carefully pulled the trigger. Recorded yardage, recorded shots, wind speed. Everything bit of data to record this except for the target's name.

She was just a kid.

He had to focus. This was all something for later. He quickly flipped through the pages, keeping his eye focused on finding keywords: vaccination or Raven. Finally he found the entry. It was a mere six months prior to her coming to Eureka. An engagement in the desert. Something about seizing artifacts. Her special ops team had been given a vaccination to protect them from an ancient virus that was suspected to be in the tomb they were vandalizing. Well of course it wasn't writing in the ink that way, but he could read between the lines. He saw the hesitation and the gap in the journal where she debated on what word to use, 'preserving from grave robbers' was written a lot harder than the rest of her sentence. So he had his answer, the date and time of her vaccination against a virus that had completely eradicated the people of an entire city-state in ancient times. An advanced civilization who didn't stand a chance against this plague.

Roy was going to call Ed with the information, but instead chose to take a picture and text it to him. There was a lot to digest in the entry and he didn't want to be the one to choose what was delivered as data and what wasn't. He snapped a photo of the page and cropped it so it contained nothing but a description of the event. The kid would never compromise Riza, he trusted him to use this information wisely, so he sent it. Watched the confirmation that it was received and read and got back a text in reply.

“I get to be there when you take this fucker down.”

If only Ed knew that the battle was going to be in court, not some showdown in the streets. It probably went a lot further than Raven, it's not as if some General was sitting in his room at night cooking up vaccinations like Meth. He had a military contractor create this, he had someone tasked to create and distribute this for him. Tracing it back to Raven would be next to impossible. It went through the system like a root that broke through the pipes and was feeding on the sewer water.

“We made this.”

Roy stared at that text. Then another one appeared.

“We made the first one.”

Roy closed his eyes. Goddammit.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy made it back to the infirmary just as Ed arrived with the data he collected. “So, where are we?”

Ed opened the door to reveal he had his brother Alphonse working on something with Dr. Marcoh. Mustang went in the room, eyes glued to the dry erase board as the two worked out their thoughts for all to see. “The original Xerses vaccine was made specifically for Hawkeye's team.”

“So you've checked personnel records?” Roy asked, knowing the answer already. Riza was the loose end, it was important enough Raven got his hands dirty delivering the murder weapon.

“They're all dead.” Dr. Knox said from the corner. “The rest of her team is already gone. Died in their sleep, shipped home and the plane went down.”

Roy could feel his rage brewing.

“I made the vaccine.” Marcoh said. “I remember it clearly. They sent me some cloth that was a burial shroud, from a tomb that had been excavated and the air had killed the grave robbers. The instructions were to produce a vaccination for this antique strain in case the team going in to this vicinity was exposed.”

“There is nothing wrong with that, doctor.” Roy assured him. “You did save lives.”

Alphonse Elric stepped back from the board. “The vaccine itself is not the issue, it's the administration of this recent booster that is. The booster was made to specifically cause a response, to overwork the system which has an already built up immunity and can target what was injected. It's a modified virus made to feast on it's weaker self.”

Roy looked at the notes on the board. A vaccination meant to attack the very specific signature of the previous vaccination. Something that would be in nobody else's system in the century unless the were given the first Xerses Vaccine. So now it was attacking the host body itself. “Well that is way beyond Raven's creative ability and comprehension. Who the hell made this?”

“If I were a corrupt asshole who stole priceless relics from a war torn country,” Ed said. “I would say that I had the money to spare to fund a private lab to create something for me. We forget what it's like to not work here, someone out in a lab dying for funding and freedom would jump at the chance like this.”

“Especially with the spin that it's for the people.” Alphonse added.

“For the refugees.” Marcoh chimed in.

“For fucks sake.” Knox snapped and stood up to rush into the room with his patient. He saw the vitals spike and knew the inevitable was here. Her body was rejecting the baby to try and increase it's chances for survival. She was suffering a miscarriage which under normal circumstances would be fine with just careful monitoring, but he was concerned about hemorrhaging in her current condition. It was time to leave the cure to the researchers, he was here to be a doctor for his patient.

Roy was in the room immediately, following Knox as he tapped on monitors and lifted up the sheet and cursed to himself. Roy didn't need him to tell him what was happening, he needed him to not say what was happening. “Can we stop the bleeding?”

Knox looked over at him, eyes pleading with him to not go into detail with what was going on because he wasn't an idiot. “Go help them find a cure. There is nothing you can do here.”

Roy wanted to stay, it seemed right, but Knox was correct. He was needed elsewhere. So he turned around and went back into the observation room where Marcoh met him with consoling eyes and the Elrics searched his face for answers to their silent question. They didn't need to know. “What are the odds that we can attack this virus and not do more harm?”

“It's the only option we have.” Marcoh said sadly. “Odds are stacked against us.”

“Fuck the odds.” Ed said.

“Brother.” Al said and Ed went over to the board and circled the word Xerses Virsus.

“We might not know what this mystery scientist made, but I bet we're a thousand times better than that hack!” Ed said. “We make our own virus to attack our known variable, Marcoh's Xerses Virus itself. Then we'll know the worst case scenario of what we're dealing with and take the next step which is to figure out how to destroy what we made.”

“We don't have that kind of time.” Alphonse protested.

“We don't have a choice.” Ed said. “And if we run out of time I'll open the gate again and put her somewhere were time stops.”

“What the fuck, brother?” Al's gasped and everyone looked to Al. The portal wasn't something they understood at all. He would dare open it again? And jeopardize Hawkeye?

“Years off someone's life is better than no life at all.” Ed snapped. “I'll make that sacrifice. I'll make it. She saved us and that's just equivalent exchange as I see it.”

Roy didn't say anything as Ed stormed out and screamed about getting to work. Al mumbled about 'cheating death' and 'throwing limbs at God' before following his brother out of the room. Marcoh just picked up his things and nodded before leaving. Roy stood there and chose to ignore the reference to their Necromancy experiment gone wrong and pick up the tablet Marcoh left for him with the specs on his original Xerses vaccination. Then he went into the room to be with his wife while they lost their first child.

#fic #royai #eureka au

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