Chapter Text
I stared at the woman – Stevens, if her name tag was accurate. She had been introduced as a general. An army general, I assumed. She certainly looked the part. Her black dress uniform was tight-fitting and spotless. Her brown hair was tied tightly in a low bun. Her posture was ramrod straight. And she spoke in a clipped no-nonsense tone. All in all, she vaguely fit my notions of a military person. There were a few holes in that story, however. Namely, the ridiculous emblem on her chest, which didn't belong to any organization or nation I was aware of. And more importantly, the fact that she felt the need to report to me of all people. Although she might have inadvertently clarified that point during her report.
"Repeat that," I said slowly, keeping my voice level by shunting my emotions into the swarm.
Stevens did not look up. She had not looked up even once since she entered the room. Her gaze remaining anchored to the red and black carpet all throughout, in a pattern that was turning out to be disturbingly common around here.
"Yes, ma'am." She pursed her lips for a beat before continuing, "Today at 0953 hours, Team 91F—"
"Not everything," I interrupted, "Just the last part."
The general nodded once. "With this operation we have shattered the last major pocket of resistance. That is to say, Your Excellency is now effectively the undisputed Empress of Earth. Congratulations, ma'am."
I hadn't misheard then. The pieces of the puzzle did fit neatly together now that I had this piece of information, even if the completed picture was absurd. Was this some kind of psychological experiment? An expansive and no doubt expensive experiment if so, given that this entire building was seemingly filled with 'military' personnel who seemed unusually deferential to me in particular. Hell, there was a gigantic statue of me in the cafeteria ten floors below. That one had been a shocking – and rather uncomfortable – discovery. Although this one beat that by a mile.
"The undisputed Empress of the planet?" I echoed, just a bit of my incredulity leaking into my voice. Somewhere in the walls, some spiders were having the feast of their lives.
One of her eyes twitched. "I—we—I mean—of course, we are working around the clock to eliminate the remaining cells—"
I raised a hand, and that simple motion was enough for the woman to instantly shut up. A headache had long begun to throb behind my eyes. From all the nonsense no doubt. Or maybe I was lucky and the burgeoning headache was a result of Contessa's bullets still making their way through my brain tissue.
"You said Dragon participated in this... mission." I latched onto the one familiar detail in the whole spiel she had spilled. I may have left some bitter feelings behind with how I acted towards the AI at the end, but right now I was just hoping it was the same Dragon I knew. I would beg for forgiveness if I had to. I just needed someone normal to talk to right now.
"Yes, ma'am," Stevens replied.
God, I hoped it was the same person, and not someone or something else. Comical images of a mythical dragon overseeing a military operation came to my mind.
"Do you have a way to contact her?" I asked.
"Yes, ma'am?" came the uncertain reply. Right. Stupid question.
"Wonderful. Please ask her to join me at her earliest convenience. I have some things I want to discuss with her."
The reply came three heartbeats too slow, enough to signal I had done something unexpected. The military woman's face gave nothing away, however. It seemed she had an excellent poker-face.
"Of course, ma'am."
After a moment of consideration, I elected to not care about whatever faux pas I had made. I waved a hand.
"Right. Go on then. You're dismissed, or whatever."
The woman gave a sharp military salute, responded in the affirmative, and started to leave. Again, without raising her eyes from the ground. Through the flies I had tucked into her uniform, I felt her entire body sag with relief the moment the door clicked shut behind her. She stood there for a moment, then squared her shoulders and walked into an elevator, beginning a long rapid descent. Just before she slipped out of my range, she pulled out a phone, hopefully to summon Dragon. Not for the first time, I wondered just how tall this building was, that people could leave my range by descending it.
With a sigh, I pushed myself off the ridiculously high-backed chair. I touched an ornate pattern carved into the wall behind the chair. It looked and felt very much real. I surveyed the room that was supposedly my 'office' for the hundredth time. God, who had designed this place? Everything was black and red. The fucking bezels of the display monitor on the desk were even red. Even the black uniform the general had worn had red rings around the cuffs. At least the lighting wasn't red. Small mercies.
I turned around and began leaving the room as well. Six floors higher, on the highest floor, two of the walls were dominated by large panes of reinforced glass. Not open windows, exactly, but they would do until some things were cleared up. My office, and many of the rooms nearby lacked any windows and something told me it would be unwise to ride the elevator all the way down.
It turned out to be quite the breathtaking sight. It was night and the city lights shone brightly, both from houses and vehicles moving far underneath. I couldn't tell which city I was in, but I could now say with some confidence that I was probably in the tallest building in the city. Extrapolating from everything else I had seen so far, it was probably also the most cartoonishly villainous looking structure in the area.
I groaned. A man on the other side of the area glanced at me, and then ducked his head. I ignored him. After a moment, he scurried away, leaving me alone in the area.
I didn't have to contemplate my absurd situation by myself for too long. It couldn't have been ten minutes before a figure arrived via elevator. Humanoid, though my bugs told me it was more metal than flesh. Dragon, then. And so soon.
The woman who stepped beside me a minute later didn't wear the face I remembered, but that meant little. She began with a heavy sigh, the sound remarkably human.
"You torture poor Marianne far too much." she said.
She wore that ridiculous emblem on her chest as well. And boy did she look displeased. Neither of that was important, however. What was important was the fact that when I tilted my head to eye her, she looked me in the eyes. The first person to do so since I'd woken up in this mausoleum of despair.
Her expression soured further for some reason.
"I am almost afraid to ask, but it's not as if I have any choice in the matter," she muttered, turning away to look out the glass, her hands clasped behind her back, "what can I do for you Taylor?"
There was resignation in her voice, but no, I wouldn't let my spirits be dampened so easily. I stared out the glass too as I gathered my thoughts. What to say, Where to begin...
"What… what happened after Gold Morning, Dragon?" There. That would clear a few things up.
"Gold Morning?" Dragon echoed.
I nodded, watching the reflection of her face in the glass for a flicker of recognition. It didn't come.
The robot's lips drew into a thin line, "May I ask what this Gold Morning is? Does it denote a specific event we should be adding to the calendar?"
"Gold Morning. When Scion decided to kill us all off." I kept my voice flat. Internally, my heart sank.
Dragon's brows rose minutely, "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that particular event, nor am I aware of any entity by the name of Scion."
She sounded… Well she sounded like she wasn't taking me seriously. I had mixed feelings on that. I let the grimace I was feeling appear on my face.
"Wonderful," I looked outside, my eyes following the movement of very distant lights. Just where was I? This whole thing didn't quite fit with my knowledge of how alternate universes worked. Though, what did I know about anything. Who knows. Maybe Contessa was the biggest bitch across the multi-verse and she had orchestrated this entire thing to maximize my suffering. In that case, there was no point in trying not to play along.
"Where are we?" I asked, though the question meant something far different than what I wanted to ask.
Dragon raised a brow but answered anyway, "Floor 157 of Central Command Headquarters in Paris, Western Europe Administrative Zone," she paused, "colloquially known as the Panopticon."
I stared out the glass. Paris was targeted by the Simurgh at some point. I remembered that. I remembered not being allowed to join the fight as well.
"How tall is this building?" I asked.
"Seven hundred and eighty three meters. Just under half a mile." Dragon responded, seemingly unbothered by the disconnected questioning.
That was certainly tall.
"Stevens says I rule the planet." I said quietly, "How many people is that, Dragon?"
Dragon gave me an odd look.
"We don't have accurate data, but national censuses dating back to before the Wars of Unity claim a total world population of just over six and a half billion people."
Not a depopulated Earth then. I wonder if there are alternate versions of my parents somewhere out there.
"By all signs it seems my... rule has left very few positive impressions." I stated.
Dragon looked unimpressed, "Are you growing a conscience, Empress?"
I winced at the tone, despite knowing I was totally blameless in this situation. How in hell would I take over the planet with bug powers anyway? It was probably the fact that the venomous tone would be so uncharacteristic of the Dragon I knew, that bothered me so much.
I turned to the robot.
"Fine. If I am this all-powerful ruler, I want to give it all up. Fucking, I don't know, hold elections or something. Who the fuck wants to run a whole goddamn planet?"
Dragon's unimpressed stare slowly morphed into a look of concern as I maintained her gaze.
"You're serious," she stated.
"Yes." I replied.
"...what's wrong, Taylor?" she asked. And despite whatever nonsensical and monstrous image she had of me, there was compassion and worry in her voice. Muted, but it was there. Maybe it was faked. She was a robot after all. I imagined it wouldn't be hard to fake emotions.
"I... think I'm not the Taylor you know, Dragon." I frowned. How exactly was I supposed to explain this and sound believable?
Dragon had a conflicted look on her face, "If you're trying to make a point, consider it made. I don't want you to give it up at this stage. It would cause such an impossible amount of chaos, as I trust you well know."
I groaned.
"I need a drink." I said, "Let's talk over a drink, please."