Chapter Text
Aloy sat silently on the ground, her gaze lost to something unseen. She didn’t notice as the sunset spread its orange tendrils across the sky, nor the darkness that eventually blanketed the land. The cold that crept through her armor went ignored, as did the sharp wind whipping her frozen skin without mercy.
It was the rain that finally pulled her from her stupor.
She blinked in confusion as the first few drops struck her face, slowly bringing her back to reality.
“Looks like I have to go, Varl,” she whispered, surprised at the roughness of her own voice. She lifted her fingers to her neck, pressing gently to assess the swollen glands. She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t come down with a cold; she didn’t have time for that. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
She stood and cast a final look at Varl’s garden before heading toward the Base. Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced back the tears that threatened to fall. She had shed enough already. Crying was only a temporary fix—a way to exhaust herself, to numb the pain for a few hours before it inevitably returned.
As it should. You are responsible for his death.
Aloy quickened her pace toward the Base, away from the rain and the haunting thoughts that had plagued her ever since their return from the Zeniths’ base.
“Aloy, I must remind you that my calculations for your recovery were based on the assumption that you would rest,” GAIA’s mechanical voice chimed through her Focus as soon as she set foot inside.
“I’m literally doing nothing, GAIA.” Aloy felt her patience slipping with the all-seeing AI, who had been monitoring her vitals around the clock, observing every move, and reprimanding her every time she acted against her recommendations.
“Please, go and see Beta in the common room. I’ve asked her to prepare fresh bandages and healing salve.”
Aloy closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths before moving on. GAIA was, of course, right. Aloy was never good at staying put, even without grief weighing on her.
Now, she was outright terrible at it.
She winced as pain flared in her thigh when she put too much weight on her left leg, forcing her to stop and lean against the cold metallic wall, waiting for the ache to subside.
I shouldn’t have gone after that pack of machines in my state of mind, she thought. It had been reckless, almost mad. But she did it anyway, desperate to escape her own mind. All she accomplished was getting herself hurt, and now she was confined to the Base to recover. With their friends still out on missions gathering allies, it was just her and Beta here now. GAIA had tasked her with one thing: rest.
The silence of the Base was deafening. Its cold, metallic walls hummed softly with machinery, void of the warmth and laughter that usually filled the space. When everyone was here, it felt alive, almost like a home. Rooms were brimming with plants and personal mementos, filled with voices, teasing, laughter.
But then Varl was killed.
They avenged him and defeated the Zeniths, only to realize that an even greater threat loomed. Their friends left to spread the word and gather allies for the inevitable battle to come. Aloy had joined Kotallo just long enough to speak with Hekarro, to explain the situation and leave the negotiations in his capable hands. Then, alone on the road, she realized just how poorly she dealt with her own feelings—and recklessly threw herself into danger to escape them.
Now, she was back at the Base, almost entirely alone, surrounded by empty rooms, looming threats, and feelings.
Nothing but feelings.
And she had nowhere left to hide.
“Hey, Aloy,” Beta said softly. Aloy lifted her gaze to see her sister sitting on the bench in the common room, clearly waiting for her. Beta’s expression was apologetic. “Please, don’t say anything. I know you’re probably angry at GAIA, but... just let me look at your leg?”
Aloy didn’t have the energy left to argue, so she simply nodded. She lay down on her right side and pulled her loose pants down to her knee. The wound, awkwardly positioned on her thigh, had been hard to tend to alone, so she was quietly grateful for her sister’s help. Beta gently pushed aside Aloy’s tunic for a better look. The cut was clean, and the stitches were still holding, though Aloy knew she hadn’t been resting enough for the flesh to fully heal. Beta didn’t say anything, but it was obvious there hadn’t been much improvement.
“How are things with GAIA?” Aloy asked quietly as Beta began her work.
“Um, fine. Sylens is actually going to join me in a few days. He has an idea he wants to try out,” Beta said, a small, almost amused smile playing on her lips.
“Oh?” Aloy arched a brow, surprised by Beta’s hint of optimism.
“Yes. We thought we could create another AI—one designed to communicate with NEMESIS. Sort of like... well, a countermeasure,” Beta explained, her voice laced with cautious excitement.
Aloy’s pulse quickened, the idea of another AI instantly raising her guard. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Beta sighed, opening a jar of healing salve and carefully applying it. “GAIA and Sylens seem to think so. And... it’s the only idea we have right now,” she added quietly.
Aloy hissed as the salve touched her bare skin. “Is there… anything I can do to help?”
They both knew the answer. Aloy was a warrior, a huntress, a leader—but not an AI-level programmer.
“Don’t worry about it. The others come back tomorrow, though,” Beta said, trying to find something, anything, reassuring to offer. “Maybe they’ll bring good news from our allies.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” Aloy glanced at her sister and managed a small smile. She saw Beta’s face soften, relief shining through her worry. That one small gesture seemed to lift a weight from her sister’s shoulders, bringing a spark of hope to her young eyes.
A pang of guilt tugged at Aloy. She’d hardly spoken to Beta over the past week, retreating into a silence that left her sister at a distance. Beta had always been there—quietly, gently offering support and companionship—but Aloy had withdrawn, too wrapped up in her own sorrow to reach back.
It wasn’t just grief but the heavy, isolating weight of guilt that held her back. Ever since the battle, Aloy couldn’t shake the feeling that her every action had consequences, often fatal, for the people she cared about.
There was a big part of Aloy that blamed herself for Varl's death. And that part recoiled from her sister's kindness every time Beta offered a reassuring smile or simply a question about her wellbeing.
It was too much for Aloy.
She knew Beta was worried for her, but she didn't know how to climb out of this pit of despair to fix it.
Later that evening, as the Base grew quiet and Beta disappeared into her own tasks, Aloy lay curled up on her furs, pulling a blanket over herself. She winced when the fabric brushed her thigh, turning carefully to her uninjured side, trying to keep pressure off the wound.
But even in the stillness, her mind wouldn’t rest.
Memories of Varl, of the last moments they’d shared, of the choices that led them all here, attacked her as they had every night when she was too tired for her defenses to hold. She could feel her heart beating faster, thoughts racing with worried she couldn't shake. Her breath quickened and her muscles became tight as strings, ready to attack an unseen threat.
The silence only made it worse and her imagination ran wild once more.
“GAIA?” she murmured softly. “Would you… would you mind telling me?”
"Tell you what, Aloy?"
Aloy swallowed, closing her eyes. She couldn’t tell if the AI was being difficult on purpose, or not. “Please, GAIA,” she whispered. “Tell me one more time.”
GAIA’s soft, steady voice responded with familiar words: “Everyone’s vitals are stable. They are alive and safe.”
Aloy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and the knot of worry in her chest began to loosen. She allowed her eyes to close, letting the promise of a little rest finally settle over her.
***
Erend leapt off his Charger and swung his hammer at the Leaplasher.
He missed, of course.
By the forge, he hated these acrobatic little shits—and they always traveled in packs. His Charger dashed toward one of the machines, rearing and kicking its hind legs, which drew the attention of a few others. Erend took the chance to focus on the two closest to him, preparing to strike again.
He was a strong warrior, but his style was better suited for larger, slower machines. His hammer could deliver devastating damage, but it was slow, and hitting smaller, agile machines like Leaplashers was a challenge. Just as he managed to take down a second machine, something hit him hard in the back. He flew forward toward one of the carcasses in front of him but wasn’t fast enough to catch himself before the collision.
He turned his head just in time to protect his face and eyes, though this meant his right temple took the full impact of the fall.
Everything went black for a moment.
First came the pain, sharp and immediate. Then, he heard it—a leap, right above him. Erend reacted instinctively, rolling out of the way just before the Leaplasher could land on him again. Grabbing the dagger from behind his belt, he stabbed the canister on the machine’s back, then struck at its head and chest, plunging the blade deep between cables until he hit the power cell. Finally, the machine stopped moving.
Erend caught his breath, although a soft hum lingered in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was real or just in his head.
Thank the forge I listened to Aloy when she insisted I carry this dagger.
Blinking away the fog clouding his vision, Erend looked around. Three Leaplasher carcasses lay near his fallen Charger. It seemed his mount had managed to take out three of them before the fourth killed it and then turned to Erend.
Great, he thought bitterly. How am I supposed to get back to the Base in time for dinner now that I’ve lost my Charger? As far as he could remember, there weren’t any mountable machine sites nearby.
He'd better let the others know he'd be late. Hazily, he raised his hand to tap his focus, but pain flared up as his fingers brushed his temple. His hand was covered in blood.
What the...
Then he saw it. Broken pieces of his focus, scattered on the ground around him. Erend cursed and kneeled in the mud, frantically trying to fit the tiny pieces back together, hoping they would magically glue themselves back together if he found all of them.
“Fire and spit, what an idiot,” he muttered after a few minutes. It was pointless. With a sigh, he dropped the pieces into his pouch, stood up, and looked around. Not only had he lost his mount, he had also managed to destroy the only working focus he had on him.
Muttering angrily to himself, Erend picked up his hammer and started walking. His steps were slow and wobbly at first, but gradually, the fog in his head began to clear, and the ringing in his ears faded. He’d be fine, but he still had to get back to Base on foot—and as soon as possible. There was a message he needed to deliver to Aloy.
Aloy.
His mind drifted back to the moment on top of the Zeniths’ base. After the battle, when Sylens returned, Aloy had turned to him with a smile full of relief and gratitude. They’d been lucky to survive. She had stepped closer, lifting her arm just as he raised his own, and she’d fit naturally against his side. He’d reviewed the recording of that moment on his focus more times than he’d admit and still couldn’t be sure who’d initiated the hug. It had felt so natural. So right.
He sighed and shook his head, letting himself linger in the memory for just a few moments. He could still feel the surge of pride at their victory, the overwhelming relief that all their friends had made it. But above all else, there was Aloy, right by his side.
She had actually let him hold her.
In that fleeting moment, something inside him awakened once more. Something he had tried to bury in the deepest corner of his mind, far from the light of his thoughts.
It was the most dangerous thing of all. Hope.
It’s never going to happen, Erend. Stop torturing yourself, he thought, the familiar ache returning to his chest.
Suddenly, a searing pain on his right forearm yanked him out of his thoughts. Looking down, he swore as he saw acid from the machine’s canister eating through his leather glove. It was steadily corroding the material, creeping toward his skin. Erend fumbled with the straps holding his glove in place and finally yanked it off, flinging it aside. With his free hand, he snatched his water canister from his pouch, pouring it over the burn to flush away the acid.
“Just great. Zo’s going to kill me,” he muttered, examining the raw, stinging skin. He reached for a clean strip of cloth, wrapping it tightly around the burn and gritting his teeth against the sting. Hopefully Zo still has some of her healing stuff back at the Base.
He glanced up at the sky. It was late afternoon, and he was still a couple of hours out. The gang would be waiting for him.
Will Aloy be there? The thought sneaked in before he could stop it. Or is she off on some new mission, helping someone else who needs her?
By the forge, would you stop thinking about her!
***
Aloy was exhausted. She’d spent the morning helping Beta tidy up the Base, preparing food and lodgings for their friends. By midday, her sister had vanished to continue her work with GAIA, leaving Aloy alone with her thoughts once again. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself; her armor and spear were spotless, ammo and traps crafted and ready, and every last preparation for her friends was complete.
She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.
Oh, dear. Maybe I should take some time to deal with this, she thought, noticing the knots beneath her fingers. She went to her room and grabbed the supplies Zo had given her before she left for Plainsong. Slowly, she began to unbraid her hair, slipping off the Nora beads and carefully combing through the matted areas. As she scrubbed her scalp under the hot shower, her mind drifted back to her childhood.
Rost had taught her how to braid her hair. She used to love those quiet moments by the fire, fingers combing through her hair as Rost helped her with the braids and beads. He’d tell her about Nora customs and the history of their tribe.
For little Aloy, those were some of her happiest times.
It was before Bast threw a stone at her. Before winning The Proving became her most important life goal. Before … Everything that followed.
“Now we’re having fun, right?”
Aloy gasped at the intrusion of the memory and the pain that followed. She turned the shower to cold, letting the icy water shock her back to the present. She was here, at the Base. Not Gemini. She was safe in the present, not trapped in the past.
Aloy turned off the water and sat down on the cold tile floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Closing her eyes, she took slow, measured breaths.
It’s going to be okay, she told herself. Just keep it together for when everyone arrives.
“Your cortisol levels and heart rate are highly elevated, Aloy. Do you need anything?”
Aloy glanced up, startled by GAIA’s voice. “How are they?” she whispered.
“Everyone is fine.”
“All of them? Zo, Alva, Kotallo? Erend?”
“Their vitals are stable, Aloy. Sylens is also fine and on his way here. In fact, his location indicates he should be the first to arrive.”
Oh, right. Sylens. She actually hadn’t thought to ask about him. By now, though, she was almost certain the clever bastard could survive anything. He probably had a plan to cheat death—and two backups.
Taking another deep breath, she felt her anxiety finally starting to ease. She knew she’d have to break this habit of asking. Knowing everyone’s status had become a lifeline, almost an obsession. The information became the only way for her to calm down, which surely wasn’t healthy.
Right?