Chapter Text
The Stalker’s headlights flashed abruptly from yellow to red. Nil almost didn’t have time to roll aside before the Stalker launched itself at him with a metallic screech.
It was a near miss, with the Stalker’s claws missing his shoulder by bare centimetres, but a successful miss. Swiftly Nil shot two tearblast arrows at the Stalker’s stealth generator, then ran and slid into some long grass and listened with satisfaction to the piercing shriek of torn components as the tearblast ammo did its work.
The Stalker whirled, its rump sparking with damage, then launched itself at him again. Nil shot precision arrow after precision arrow at its dart gun and mine launchers, dodging and rolling swiftly between arrows to avoid the Stalker’s piercing tail.
The fight was over within minutes and Nil crouched breathlessly in the grass, unscathed but unsatisfied. He still had to make his way along the upper level, then through the rest of the mountain’s fucking underground facility. Nil supposed he should be grateful he’d chosen the stealthier path towards the facility door. Stalkers were bad, but it was either this or the Behemoth and the Scorchers down in the killing field, and Nil was under no illusions about his ability to destroy that many advanced machines single-handedly. He might be good, having learned everything Suntress had to teach about fighting machines, but he simply didn’t have her gifts of metal death.
A sudden burning pain slammed into his left shoulder, and Nil stumbled forward before rolling defensively and drawing his bow. He spun on his heel to face the Scrapper that had just blasted him and enjoyed the hollow slam of metal as his arrow pierced the Scrapper’s power cell.
Then an ear-splitting shriek of rage pierced his ears from behind.
A surge of sheer frustration washed over him, but Nil didn’t hesitate as he rose from the grass and aimed his bow at the Longlegs’ air bladder. There was no space or time for hesitation now.
He had no choice, after all. He was fighting these machines alone.
*****************
One month earlier…
Aloy and Nil strolled up along the red dirt path to Brin’s old cabin. Aloy smiled as she spotted Luka kneeling in front of the campfire, her eyes closed and her slender face relaxed and peaceful.
Quietly they approached Luka’s campfire, and Aloy respectfully took a seat on the bench across the fire from Luka, happy to wait for the young shaman to finish her meditation. Nil, however, had no qualms about bothering his best friend; he noisily walked around behind Luka and flicked the back of her head in a friendly greeting before joining Aloy on the bench.
Luka opened one eye, and a slow smile lit her face as Aloy elbowed Nil chidingly. “Huntress. Prince,” she greeted them with mocking formality. Her black eyes sparkled with welcome. “It’s good to see you.”
Aloy smiled at Luka. “I was hoping we would find you here,” she said. Luka had taken occupancy of the cabin after Brin had disappeared, but Aloy and Nil didn’t always manage to catch Luka here during their travels, as Luka was frequently off on machine hunts of her own. “We’re actually heading up north, so we might not see you for a while.”
Luka’s eyes widened. “North? You mean to Ban-Ur?”
“Not quite,” Aloy replied. “We’re headed to the Cut. We’ve been hearing some strange news from Carja and Oseram travellers who were headed out towards Ban-Ur, but they came straight back without making it past the Cut.” An Oseram merchant named Ohtur had explained to her that the Cut was a Banuk territory that had been devastated by the Red Raids.
Aloy tilted her head curiously. “Word is that there’s some kind of trouble up north. A new machine threat of some kind. And something about talking spirits?”
Luka’s face was grave as she took in this news, and she nodded seriously. “I’ve been seeing signs of danger in my meditations as well,” she agreed. “A darkness leaching the Blue Light from the northern lands.”
“The Blue Light? What’s that?” Aloy asked curiously.
Luka smiled gently. “You’ll find out soon enough. I’ll leave it to the ‘real’ Banuk to explain it to you.” She shot Nil a playful smirk. “You’re going to have to gear up. You’re no better than naked dressed as you are.” Her gaze was disparaging as she inspected his usual lightweight outfit of vest, silk trousers, sandals and machine armour.
Aloy shook her head and shot Nil a look of fond exasperation. “That’s another reason we’re here. I was hoping you could talk some sense into him. He refused to buy Banuk clothing before we left.”
“You should both stop worrying,” Nil interjected lazily. “I enjoy the cold. Carja scholars have gone to Ban-Ur with only the silks on their backs. If they can do it, I’ll do it even better.”
“Fire and spit, Nil,” Aloy said in annoyance. “We’re going to the land of snow and ice. You can’t wear sandals in the land of snow and ice.”
Nil gave Aloy a charming little smile. “The flames of your hair will keep me warm, Suntress. Don’t worry.”
Aloy wilted in exasperation at his blatant attempt to flatter her, but before she could argue further, Luka leaned forward, her eyes intent on Nil’s face. “You don’t want a repeat of our first meeting, do you?” she said quietly. “That’s what will happen if you go north unprepared.”
Aloy swallowed hard and looked at Nil; all signs of humour had faded from his face at Luka’s words. It had been eight months or so since she and Nil had reunited, but the thought of Nil almost dying in a snowbank still haunted Aloy during that fine line between wake and sleep.
Nil shot Aloy a vaguely apologetic glance, then finally shrugged in bad-tempered acquiescence. “All right. I’ll gear up when we get there.”
“Not good enough,” Luka replied briskly. She stood up and strode into Brin’s cabin, then came back with a pair of thick furry boots and fingerless fur-and-leather gloves. She plonked the items in Nil’s arms. “Take these,” she said firmly. “None of Brin’s other clothes would fit you, but these will be a start.”
Nil eyed the boots with revulsion, but Aloy gazed up at Luka gratefully. “Thank you,” she murmured, and Luka shot her a smile of warm understanding. Aloy patted Nil’s arm the way she might pet a tamed Ravager. “We’ll buy more clothes along the way.”
“Hmph. Forcing me to wear outlander clothing on my own honeymoon,” he muttered resentfully.
Luka grinned at Aloy and Nil. “This is your honeymoon? A trip to the most unforgiving territory in the known world to investigate some unknown danger?” She laughed. “The two of you are very weird.”
Nil smiled and slung an arm around Aloy’s shoulders. “I’m looking forward to it. The Sundom has become boring. Placid weather, placid peace… Even the bandits are placid. There’s no challenge here. I’m hoping we’ll find some heartier bandits in the north.” He quirked an eyebrow at Luka. “Banuk bandits do know how to fight humans, don’t they?”
Luka rolled her eyes and threw a small rock at Nil, who smirked and deflected the rock with his arm. “Yes, Nil,” Luka drawled, “Banuk bandits will be a nice challenge for you. They genuinely might be more vicious than the bandits you find here in the south. After all, we Banuk are nothing if not hardy.”
Nil smiled at Aloy and rubbed his hands together with relish. “Excellent. This trip is already off to a good start.”
Aloy smiled back somewhat tightly. It was true that Aloy was looking forward to a fresh adventure with Nil, but she had another reason for wanting to go on this trip: she needed a distraction from her failure to fix GAIA. It had been almost three years now since the Battle of HADES, and Aloy felt like she’d made no progress towards fixing the terraforming AI. Aloy was certain that she’d scrounged up every data file and audio point and Old Ones’ text that she could find, and still she couldn’t bring GAIA back to life.
As the Old Ones would say, the problem seemed to be a hardware issue. Aloy felt like she had a strong grasp of the Old Ones’ holographic interfaces and how to get instructions into the machines using these interfaces, but GAIA needed a special machine to live in… and the only way that Aloy knew of making special machines was a Cauldron. And no matter how much she had tried to manipulate the Cauldrons with her override spear and her Focus, she couldn’t get the Cauldrons to make the parts she needed.
GAIA’s dormant state was becoming torturous for Aloy. She couldn’t help but feel like her inability to resurrect GAIA was a character flaw. How was it that GAIA could fight through HADES’ shackles to bring Aloy herself to life, but Aloy couldn’t use all the resources at her disposal to bring GAIA back? What was wrong with her?
Suddenly Nil’s lips were at her ear. “Let your mind be easy,” he murmured soothingly. “A new danger for others always means new information for you, Suntress. Maybe you’ll learn something that will help with your GAIA entity.”
Aloy closed her eyes briefly and sighed, leaning into the comforting solidity of Nil’s shoulder. “I know, I know,” she replied quietly. Nil had been reassuring her on an almost daily basis that she would get GAIA up and running eventually, but as time went on, she was believing him less and less.
“And remember the rumours of new machines,” Nil continued in his deep and soothing voice. “Think of the trophies you’ll take back to the Lodge. Talanah will have to fight you to keep her post.”
Aloy finally gave Nil a genuine smile and pushed him playfully with her shoulder. “I told you, I don’t want to be the Sunhawk. Talanah is much more suited to it than me.” She twined her fingers in Nil’s and turned back to Luka. “Do you have any advice for us as we travel north?”
Luka gave them a melancholy smile. “I’m probably the last person you should ask for advice about travelling in the Cut, all things considered. But I can send you off with a blessing.”
Nil snorted. “No thanks.”
Luka grinned and threw another rock at him, which hit him in the chest this time. “Fine, no blessing for you. Aloy?” Luka tilted her head quizzically at Aloy.
Aloy shrugged amiably. “Thanks, Luka. That would be nice.” Aloy didn’t need to believe in any tribe’s religion in order to appreciate the sentiment.
Luka reached into one of the pouches around her waist and pulled out a small handful of powder, which she threw into the fire. Abruptly the flames transformed from a warm orange into a brilliant, electric blue. Luka closed her eyes and lifted her chin, then took a deep breath as she sank into a meditative state.
Aloy lifted her knees to her chin and folded her arms around them as she waited patiently for Luka to speak again. She enjoyed the feel of Nil’s idle fingers combing through her hair while she quietly watched Luka’s slow breathing.
Slowly Luka opened her eyes, and a small chill ran down Aloy’s spine: Luka’s sloe-black eyes seemed oddly empty as she gazed into the fire.
“Blue light glistens in the air. It falls heavy on the hearts of machine and flesh alike. Its chill is the way of things, the way of survival.” Suddenly Luka’s vacant gaze latched onto Aloy’s face. “Ribbons of rage wash away the chill. A life born and fostered and quashed to a mere spark, entrapped in the shadow of the rage. A ridgewood tree split in two, each branch strong in its own right but missing the other. This is what you will face.”
Goosebumps rippled over Aloy’s skin. There was no way to know if Luka’s premonitions were true, but if Brin’s visions were anything to go by, Aloy was certain there was wisdom in Luka’s words, if only she could parse it out.
Luka blinked twice, then slowly shook her head and took a deep breath. When she finally smiled at Aloy and Nil, her smile was as enigmatic as the mysteries in her eyes. “Enjoy your journey,” she said softly. “Stay safe, my friends.”
Nil huffed with amusement, breaking the mysterious tension. He stood from the bench and pulled Aloy up with him. “I’ll bring you a souvenir from your homeland,” he told Luka with an irreverent smirk. “A bandit’s tooth talisman, maybe? You could use it in your little rituals.”
Luka stood as well and punched Nil in the shoulder before hugging him gently. “Don’t be stupid. I know you don’t collect trophies from your kills.” She turned and hugged Aloy as well. “I don’t need to tell you this, but take care of him,” Luka whispered to Aloy. “He’s-”
“-a cavalier idiot, I know,” Aloy murmured back, and the two women laughed, then Aloy and Nil took their leave.
Aloy whistled for two Broadheads. As she and Nil headed towards Daytower at a brisk gait, Aloy turned to Nil. “You don’t think anything Luka said is true?”
Nil smirked and shrugged. “Whether it’s true or not isn’t the point. Acting on vague premonitions is what makes them true. And every priest and shaman loves a self-fulfilling prophecy.” He shot her a self-satisfied grin. “I prefer to carve my own path through life and let the bloody consequences fall where they may.”
Aloy smiled back at Nil and relaxed. Her bloodthirsty husband might be unplanned chaos personified, but he made a good point. Better to make your own path than to try and follow the path hinted by someone else, Aloy thought.
But sometimes, with GAIA Prime so still and quiet and dark, Aloy couldn’t help but wonder what her path was supposed to be.
She shook her head briskly. Forget that for now, she scolded herself. A new adventure and fresh territory was laid wide in front of them, and despite her disappointment about GAIA, Aloy felt a jolt of excitement.
She grinned at Nil. “Come on, let’s race,” she said, and kicked her Broadhead’s sides.
Nil’s chuckle followed her along with his voice. “Cheater! You had a head start!” he called.
Aloy grinned and didn’t bother to reply as the hot desert wind whipped her hair around her face. She knew Nil didn’t really mind her head start.
After all, he was always just one easy step behind.