Russian vacation canceled

The Aperture Hawkins Facility, a towering structure of glass and steel, dominated the cloudless, cerulean sky, asserting its dominance over the tranquil town of Hawkins. From my perch atop the summit, the town sprawled out beneath us, resembling a meticulously crafted model, its serene charm undisturbed by the monolithic presence that loomed above. However, my fascination lay elsewhere—it wasn't an excuse for a smoke, as I had never cared for the habit. Instead, a far more pressing matter occupied my thoughts.

Once again, my young apprentice, Two, found himself in trouble. The task I had assigned to him was supposed to be straightforward: test two Mystic Codes that would allow the children I had hidden on Io base to visit Earth regularly. The first was a pair of sunglasses-shaped Mystic Code, designed as a memetic hazard censor for travel through the Otherworld. The second was a simple glamour bracelet meant to conceal their identities from those searching for Dr. Brenner's former subjects. How in blazes had he gotten entangled with the Russians? Did he stumble upon them, or did the bracelet fail? And how did he end up a prisoner in their clutches? There should have been nothing in that base capable of standing against his psychic power, honed under my personal tutelage. Archer and I had scouted it thoroughly in preparation for our own assault, which was supposed to take place at a later time, when Stracourt Mall—the front for the incursion—would be closed, thus ensuring the absence of civilians to be caught in the line of fire.

The most vexing question of all—why hadn't I foreseen this? Prior to assigning the task to my apprentice, I had performed lithomancy divinations, and the only trouble Two was supposed to encounter was of the romantic kind. Either this was an exceptionally unfortunate stroke of luck or some unknown variable had veiled my third eye.

But there was no luxury of pondering these questions now—not until we had Two safely rescued. Steve Harrington, a reliable lad from what I remembered from the show, was watching over Jane and her little friends—a silver lining amidst the chaos. I had made a promise to Terry that I would keep her daughter safe. At least one thing was going according to plan.

The meticulously crafted plans of action that Archer and I had painstakingly developed to deal with the Russian incursion were not quite applicable in this unexpected turn of events. However, that was the beauty of the KISS principle, especially when devised by Archer and me. We had accumulated vast experience in dealing with unforeseen circumstances. Even in the face of this particular predicament, with some minor adjustments, our plans could still be made functional. I suppose I should be thankful to my teacher, the Wizard Marshall, for enduring ten consecutive Holy Grail Wars in alternate timelines. I still wondered what he did with all those corrupted Holy Grails. Were they kept on a shelf somewhere?

"How much longer, damn it?" Trevor's impatience was palpable. He had insisted on joining me after delivering the news of Two's predicament. Verifying his claim had been a simple task: a quick retreat to a nearly empty storage room, a blindfold, and a journey through the Void to locate Two's abandoned body, which the Russians had prepared for transport. To trace the path my wayward apprentice's mind had taken, I turned to Khenumra, an incubus tailored for the job.

"Hawkins isn't a metropolis, Trevor, but it has more than one street. We need to determine which route the Russians will take to transport Two. All we can do for now is wait," I explained. I had assigned one of my bird familiars—a raven from the first generation, before I sacrificed the Five-Colored Slime to save Trevor's little brother—to trail the transport. Patience, Trevor. We're close."

Restlessly, Trevor paced the rooftop, his reddish-blonde hair toyed with by the whims of the wind. The same gusts danced with my white lab coat, more than mere clothing, but a Mystic Code – a personal fortress against the dual perils of unpredictable science and treacherous magecraft.

Adorned over an expensive suit tailored for today's presentation, the coat stood as my bastion amidst the entropy. In the world of Aperture, where even the science is as deadly as magecraft, preparedness is not just a virtue but a lifeline.

Surveying the sprawling facility beneath, my mind couldn't help but meander. The threat wasn't the audacious science per se, but rather its architects – my people. The minds populating Aperture Labs mirrored the magi of the Clock Tower – obsessive, ruthless, relentlessly pursuing their own theories with an almost sociopathic fervor. A touch of self-deprecating humor welled up. I was one of them, wasn't I? Aspiring towards the same immortality of knowledge, dancing along the same ethical precipice. It sparked a thought - "Without risk of death, is it even science?" echoes Aperture's ethos, paralleling the mage's credo, "To be a mage is to dance with death." It was a curious thought to entertain.

"Then why the hell are we even here?" he grumbled, his movements across the rooftop resembling those of a restless predator. The wind played with his hair, transforming his red-blonde locks into fiery strands of copper under the waning sun's light.

However, his true question was different—why was he here? His brief encounter with Two a year ago had left an indelible mark. After a fleeting romance, Two had pushed Trevor away, severing all ties. But when Trevor stumbled upon a painting that hinted at danger befalling his erstwhile lover, he rushed to me, determined to warn and play his part in the rescue, should it be necessary.

Two hadn't forgotten Trevor—I knew it from our regular exchanges. But Two struggled to confront his own feelings, let alone share them with others. For him to admit his feelings... It was akin to expecting a lightning strike on a clear day.

Choosing to address Trevor's spoken question rather than his silent musings was a matter of courtesy. When one lives with a group of psychic children, setting an example is of utmost importance.

"Look," I said, pointing towards the sky. A small mobile dirigible carrying a larger platform appeared as nothing more than a speck in the vast expanse. It shimmered with the distinct hue of Conversion Gel. "What you see is the Aperture E.L.E.V.A.T.O.R—Elevated Line-of-sight Enhancement Via Aerial Transport Of Reflection. It's a marriage of aerial and portal technology. The platform, coated with Aperture Science's patented Conversion Gel, serves as a mobile surface for portals. It expands your portal placement options and solves the line-of-sight issue we're facing. In our current predicament, I've positioned one over each potential exit route. Once we determine the Russians' path, we'll create a portal there."

"Are you suggesting we jump?!" Trevor's voice carried skepticism. "That seems rather... high."

"Yes, we could opt for the conventional route of descent," I mused aloud, my gaze not leaving the daunting height below us. The solution was already embedded in the fabric of my lab coat. Each thread woven with protective spells strong enough to withstand a precipitous fall, safeguarding not just me but also another individual.

"I also have access to Aperture's patented Long Fall Boots," I added, "But there is a simpler, more elegant solution."

I explained to Trevor, "We won't jump, not in the conventional sense. We'll utilize a can of Conversion Gel. When splattered over the ground, it'll create a surface suitable for a portal. It's about keeping the plan simple, Trevor. KISS - Keep It Simple, Stupid."

There were, of course, other considerations, such as ensuring that the gel wouldn't be wasted on tree branches or that the surface it would land on was perfectly flat. Those, however, were issues I'd already addressed.

"You seem prepared," Trevor's words hung in the air. I could decipher the undercurrent of accusation beneath the seemingly neutral statement.

"If you're insinuating that I orchestrated this," I began, more amused than defensive. "You should know that this was a contingency for a potential Russian escape during the planned assault later. Two's capture is an unfortunate inconvenience, not part of the design."

"But you knew about the Russians and chose not to warn him," Trevor argued, his suspicion evident.

"There are things that need to be known and those better left unsaid. Frankly, he fell into the latter category. Truthfully, had I informed him, he might have taken it as a challenge. But we've digressed enough. It's time."

Through the karmic bond, I received intelligence from my raven. Following a specific turn, there was a singular route from Hawkins that the vehicle carrying Two's unconscious body could embark upon. I drew out the portal gun and cautiously aimed it at the platform's underside dangling from the E.L.E.V.A.T.O.R. Owing to the increased distance at which we'd been deploying the portal recently—the farthest being the moon—we'd initiated projects combining arm exoskeletons for stability with high-tech scopes mounted on the a helmet. That project, however, still lingered in the prototype phase, and I didn't need it. Not for this distance. I wasn't an Archer, but I did possess superior hand-eye coordination, even in my human form.

Just as the platform was impacted, I switched the connecting portal and fired at the roof section coated in Conversion Gel. This was a fragment of the brilliant concept of using the moon as a relay for portals. Unfortunately, aiming posed a considerable challenge over such vast distances. Rather than abandoning it, we repurposed the concept as an endpoint for a relay system, employing multiple E.L.E.V.A.T.O.R.s. Much work still lay ahead, but preliminary data hinted at promising results.

A hole emerged in the roof, presenting a bird's-eye view of a concrete road snaking through the forest. The scent of the forest wafted up from it—it was as if we were there, suspended from the dirigible. I emptied out the can of Conversion Gel, watching it descend. The altitude meant it took some time until it splattered onto the road below. Then, I toggled the portal gun once more and fired. Changing the portal's exit point caused it to flip. Instead of showing the bird's-eye view, we were now treated to a vista of the sky, and high above, the E.L.E.V.A.T.O.R.

"Now, we jump," I declared, taking the leap. The sudden reversal of gravity as I passed through the portal was no shock to my system—I was no novice at this. As up became down, I flipped mid-air, landing elegantly on my feet with a somersault.

"Wait for me!" Trevor shouted, jumping after me with less finesse. His coordination was far from perfect, and I had to dart forward to catch him before he face-planted onto the concrete.

"Careful," I cautioned, gripping his arm firmly. "The first step can be tricky." I released him, turning off the portals. The road remained undamaged, save for the layer of conversion gel we had applied. "Come, we need to hide before they arrive."

"Quick, behind that tree," I pointed to a thick oak nearby, its leafy branches providing substantial cover. We darted behind it, our backs against the rough bark, camouflaging within the shadows.

Our heavy breathing echoed in the silence, hearts thudding against our chests due to the thrill and urgency of the situation. The once quiet ambiance was slowly being replaced by the rumble of an oncoming vehicle. The piercing beam of its headlights cut through the darkness, growing brighter with every passing second.

Trevor turned to me, his eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and fear. "So, what's the plan? How are we going to rescue Two?" he questioned in a whisper. His gaze held an inspiring yet heavy trust in me. But again, he had seen me do the impossible, like bending time to save a life from being snuffed out, even though that had happened years ago.

"We don't," I responded.

"What?"

"It wouldn't be hard, but Two wouldn't handle it well. I'm here to help him rescue himself. You're here for moral support." I had no more time to explain. Instead, I started an aria, invoking a spell, "Recall!"

The air rippled as my spell tugged at the karmic bond, pulling Khenumra, his chariot, and his passenger here. This chariot was a Mystic Code I fashioned from the grave goods buried with Khenumra. It served him in life and now in this false undeath. The chariot, a magnificent construction of bent and bound wood, its surface gleaming with a coat of rawhide, was decorated with golden motifs and lapis lazuli. Images of power and divinity graced its sides, its opulence befitting the prince of an ancient dynasty. Pulled from the unreal realm of the mind, they were not material. I could see my familiar and his chariot due to our bond, but Two's naked spirit was barely more than a shadow.

With a deft flick of his reins, Khenumra urged the nightmares that pulled his chariot forward. These spectral beasts, more sensed than seen, were dark, horse-like figures with eyes that smoldered like fiery embers. They seemed to emanate an aura of cold dread, a chilling touch of fear that spread in their wake. Their target was the truck carrying Two's physical body.

"What was that?" Trevor's voice trembled. He probably saw very little, but he did have some psychic abilities.

"Come and see," I quoted from the Book of Revelations. The words, bereft of Mystery, carried a potent undercurrent, a fitting preamble to the spectacle about to unfold.

The more prudent course for Two would have been to feign unconsciousness, to play the part of a docile captive until delivered to the enemy's lair. However, patience was not a virtue my young apprentice was acquainted with yet. His fiery temperament dictated a different response, one dramatically expressive of his indignation. Potent emotions amplify psychic prowess, and in the wake of recent tribulations, I anticipated his wrath to take on apocalyptic proportions.

My expectations weren't just met—they were exceeded.

The first sight was a white flash, splitting the truck vertically. It was only when the vehicle began to cleave in two that I realized what was happening. Then, one flash was joined by more.

As the truck was bisected, its innards spilling out onto the road, I couldn't help but chuckle. The surprised reactions of the soldiers were visible even from my vantage point, their frantic attempts to escape the unfolding nightmare. Their training and bravado were useless against the raw power of my young protege, Two.

But my amusement didn't detract from my keen observation. I watched the white material slice through the trailer, dissect the engine, and sheer the cab into pieces. It was a fascinating display of telekinesis, amplified and directed with surgical precision.

My eyes followed the trail of destruction, the remains of the truck scattered across the asphalt. Could Two be using something like bandages or medical gauze as a conduit for his power? Or perhaps as a means of better control, a way to focus his telekinesis? If so, he had creatively applied my sword lesson.

My contemplation were rudely interrupted by a particular piece of chaos that caught my eye: the truck's driver side door, now airborne, hurtled towards us. Its matte paint glowed ominously in the night, the spinning Starcourt Mall logo emblazoned on its surface, a sinister disguise for the truck's true origins. Trevor, wide-eyed, gasped in panic.

With practiced ease, I activated the defensive enchantment woven into my lab coat, as one would fasten a seatbelt. Sigils glowed, birthing a shimmering sapphire shield before us, a testament to the perfect fusion of knowledge and magic. The door slammed into the shield, the impact reverberating through the air, the clash of the metallic surface with the near-diamond-hard sapphire barrier ringing out like a gong.

"Sapphire," I said, as the door clattered harmlessly to the ground, the shield's glow undiminished, "ranks 9 on Mohs scale of hardness. Almost nothing in nature can scratch it."

As the smoke cleared, Two floated amidst the wreckage, untouched. My student had come a long way. From a raw, untrained talent to this spectacle of power.

Yet, there was an unexpected development.

Two stood transformed, his usual attire replaced by gold and gem-encrusted jewels and a flirtatiously short "shendyt", an ancient Egyptian skirt donned by the nobility. A telling sign; Two had been possessed again, this time by Khenumra. His linen bandages, remnants of Khenumra's burial shroud, unfurled around him like serpentine whips, rending the pitiful remnants of the vehicle.

Their union, Two and Khenumra, had ignited an unexpected surge of power. The incidents of the past and the present made me consider a possibility – Two may have an affinity for the Sixth Imaginary Element, specifically Nothingness, an element that defies existence yet still manifests.

It was a perilous gift to explore, but even more dangerous to ignore. I would have to adjust his lessons.

Bathed in the light of the fire he had created, Two floated towards us. His transformation had given him an ethereal grace, a certain magnetism that was hard to ignore. His face, more symmetric now, wore a dreamy, smouldering expression. His skin, milky white, seemed to glow, almost inviting to the touch. Under the fire's harsh light, his blond hair took on a golden hue, gleaming like a halo around his head. As he got closer, I noticed a distinct detail - his blue eyes were lined with kohl. Two wore makeup now, and he wore it well.

The newfound sex appeal was almost tangible, a palpable force that seemed to change the air around him. Two, my student, who I had seen grow from a raw, untrained talent, had now transformed into this... spectacle of power and appeal.

Without warning, Two floated closer to Trevor. There was a magnetic pull in his movements, as if he had ensnared Trevor in an invisible gravitational field. A second later, their lips met. Trevor, taken by surprise, submitted initially before realizing the absurdity of the situation.

Breaking free from the unexpected advance, he reeled back, and his hand collided with Two's cheek, leaving a bright red imprint.

"Damn it, Two!" Trevor seethed, red spreading across his own cheeks as much from embarrassment as from anger.

Two only smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he caressed the burning mark on his cheek. His gaze then shifted to me, the amusement still twinkling in his kohl-lined eyes.

I frowned, my tone sterner than I intended, "Why are you still possessed? More importantly, why did you get possessed in the first place?"

The jovial smile on Two's face wavered, dissolving into a sneer. Despite its petulance, it managed to carry a sense of allure. "The circumstances demanded it," he retorted, his voice harmonizing with Khenumra's rich undertones.

"When my mind traced its way back to my body, it was tethered to life by a web of IV lines, pumping it full of potent drugs. Even after reuniting my consciousness with my physical form, the overpowering effects of the concoctions held me in a state of stupor. I was trapped within myself, unable to move, to react," he continued, the gravity of his ordeal evident in his voice.

"But even in that bleak abyss of unconsciousness, Khenumra was with me, a constant presence. He presented himself as a solution, volunteering to be the bridge that could navigate the gap between my unresponsive body and my receding consciousness," Two's tone held a note of admiration, an odd mixture of gratitude and respect, a bit uncharacteristic for Two. But then everyone liked an incubus. Eventually

"He kept me sleepwalking, but I was in charge," he concluded.

I studied him for a moment, seeing the truth behind his words. Despite the playful attitude, the recent encounter had taken a toll on him. With a sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of the special chocolate bars.

"Here," I said, tossing it to him. "Eat this. It will help flush the drugs out of your system."

He caught it deftly, a grateful nod replacing his earlier mischievous smirk. I immediately knew that he more shaken that it appeared. Two did not show gratitude.

"Thanks," he replied, his words muffled by bites of the bar.

"We need to leave before Dr. Owens arrives, to avoid any government entanglements," I announced. Silently, I reached out to Cid in the Otherworld using a familiar connection with a gem-carved eye, relaying the necessary commands. "We also need to regroup with Archer. Hopefully, his part in all of this went smoothly as well."