Dream Eater Allyphant Creations

The first thing that Elisabet feels upon waking is something tangling in her hair.

It’s a light, tugging sensation against her red strands, and when she finally opens her eyes, what she sees causes her gaze to soften.

‘Good morning, Aloy.’

Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as she pulls a baby into her arms.

By now, Aloy is 5 months old, and is still such a fragile little thing. Her small green eyes are filled with wonder as she babbles nonsense, grasping at Elisabet’s red hair with her tiny fingers.

‘Good morning, Dr. Sobeck.’ A voice floats into the room.

‘Good morning, GAIA.’ The doctor greets, not taking her eyes off the baby. ‘What do I have listed on my schedule for today?’

GAIA begins reading off tasks to be completed for Project Zero Dawn as her creator reluctantly gets up and dressed, separating from the tiny infant within the bassinet beside her bed. Aloy inevitably starts to fuss the longer that Elisabet is lost from her sight, but is expertly caught up within an embrace before they spend too long apart.

‘What’s the weather like, GAIA?’ She asks as her focus band lights up.

‘There is a storm this morning.’

On the other side of the room, a window reveals an overcast view.

The image of the storm is crystal clear, but holds a suspicious static that reveals its true nature.

‘Haven’t had one of those in a while.’ Elisabet watches the artificial rain fall on the screen, before placing Aloy down into a playpen atop soft blankets. ‘What made you decide?’

‘It had seemed fitting today.’

‘A break from normal?’ A red eyebrow raises as Elisabet pulls out a mat from underneath the bed.

‘I have been told of their importance.’ GAIA only says with a hum.

Normal.

That word used to mean something. Once.

But now…

What used to be normal no longer exists. Now that there is all the time left in the world.

But no world left to spend it on…

After morning exercise comes breakfast, and like clockwork, Elisabet’s focus band lights up with an incoming call from Elysium.

‘Morning, Aunt Lizzy!’ A young girl’s voice greets, no more than 16 years old.

‘Hi, Vivi.’ She taps her device, and a purple hologram of her niece appears. The image is grainy, but if she looks hard enough, Elisabet can still make out how the red of Vivian’s hair matches her own, along with several speckled freckles that dance across her cheeks. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Alright, I guess.’ The girl shrugs. ‘You?’ She asks, to which she also receives a shrug.

Something heavy is unspoken between them, but neither brings voice to it.

Elisabet instead turns away to activate the food printer connected to her room, while her niece shifts her attention down to the play pen.

‘And how did you sleep, Aloy?’

The baby laughs, reaching up toward the purple hologram from within her nest of blankets.

‘Aww you’re so cute I can’t stand it!’ Vivian gushes. ‘I could just squeeze you into a teeny tiny pie!’

Elisabet glances at them and only snorts with amusement in response to that notion.

She takes her meal out of the printer and sits down on the floor beside Aloy. The mesh side of the playpen is easily unlatched, and the baby giggles when Elisabet reaches out to adjust her blankets.

‘5 months. Can you believe it?’

A new voice floats into the room as a woman enters the call. She looks to be a little older than Elisabet, and holds an almost tangible familiarity with her that ascends many years. There is something dark behind her eyes. Something that Elisabet herself also shares, along with Vivian.

A mutual loss that is felt between all three of them when no one else joins their call.

‘Hi, Sarah.’ Elisabet greets her sister-in-law while Aloy grabs at her fingers. ‘No, I can’t. It seems like only yesterday that pod door was opening.’

Only yesterday, and yet like a lifetime ago.

‘How are the other babies doing?’ Vivian asks curiously, laying down beside Aloy and trying to steal the infant’s attention away.

Her efforts never work.

Aloy only has eyes for Elisabet, it seems.

‘They’re fine. Healthy.’ The doctor says, surrendering her fingertips to Aloy for her to chew on. ‘Samina and Patrick have been keeping a close eye on them.’

To say that the two scientists were excited to see their work come to fruition with their own eyes would be an exceedingly gross understatement. Patrick in particular has practically been living in the lab, extensively using this opportunity to make any tweaks for future generations.

‘Have any of the other Alphas… accepted them?’ Vivian’s words are hesitant.

The room grows colder all of a sudden, and Elisabet gently takes her hand away from Aloy.

‘You know, as…?’ Vivian prods further, her eyes flighty yet curious as she looks between the baby and her aunt.

‘Vivi.’ Sarah starts, her tone scolding.

A pause falls over Elisabet before she inevitably sighs.

‘Yes and no. It’s their choice to make.’

She can’t blame any of the Alphas.

Some have chosen to see The Lightkeeper Protocol as an opportunity for the ultimate protégé.

Others have rejected it all entirely.

But Elisabet… she was the only one to see a different path.

One she chose to walk no matter what.

Eventually goodbyes are said, and the worst part of Elisabet’s day ensues.

She needs to continue her work with GAIA, and Aloy, well…

Just because Elisabet has chosen to accept Aloy, that doesn’t make her exempt from being studied with the other clones in the ELEUTHIA Wing.

‘Aloy…’ She soothes. ‘Shhh, it’s okay.’

They haven’t even stepped foot past the threshold, but Aloy already knows where they’re going.

Her wails reverberate off the walls as Elisabet continues walking, the rhythmic sound of her steps doing nothing to curb this odd feeling in her chest.

It hurts when Aloy cries.

In a way that she wasn’t expecting.

Even so, Elisabet doesn’t allow herself to slow down, and Aloy only wails louder once the automatic doors open. The sound of other infants can immediately be heard in the peripheral, and two scientists look up upon their arrival.

‘Bonjour, Dr. Sobeck.’ Patrick is the first to greet her.

He has his notebook, blatantly taking notes as he observes Aloy like an object of study.

Elisabet knows he must do so, for research purposes.

But she still turns Aloy away from his gaze as much as she can.

‘Good morning, Patrick. Samina.’ She nods, holding fast to the squirming baby in her arms.

‘Good morning to you both.’ Samina stands with a kind smile. ‘Aloy is very lively today, I see.’

‘Always.’ Elisabet hands over the diaper bag from her shoulder.

The next thing that she hands over is Aloy, and Elisabet forces herself through the motions of gently untangling tiny fingers from her hair. Samina is equally as gentle as she takes the baby, her voice calm and soothing, but it still feels hard to breathe when the two of them are separated.

Much like any other day, she responds to it the only way she knows how.

‘Goodbye, Aloy. I’ll see you later.’

Her words are well-rehearsed, but the panicked wailing only escalates as she turns to leave.

The sound rings in Elisabet’s ears as she walks away, and only when the doors close behind her does she allow the emotions to show on her face.

Elisabet hadn’t even been working for an hour yet when she got a strange call from Samina to come back to the ELEUTHIA Wing right away.

‘You think that something happened with Aloy?’ Margo asks, looking concerned.

‘Well obviously. They wouldn’ta given Lizzy a ring otherwise.’ Travis points out with a laugh.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Elisabet says, straight and to the point.

Once she sets out into the many pristine hallways of GAIA Prime, Aloy’s cries can be heard in the distance, and Elisabet unconsciously picks up her pace. Samina and Patrick are there waiting for her, but none of their words register in her ears as Aloy is practically shoved into her arms.

The baby abruptly stops crying, and Patrick nods knowingly.

‘Hm, I thought so.’

Elisabet looks at him, unable to stop the furrow in her brow as he writes again in that damn book.

‘Thought what?’ She asks, perhaps with a bit too much bristle.

‘Aloy would not stop crying for you.’ Samina explains. ‘GAIA decided it might be a good idea to call you back.’

‘Indeed.’ GAIA chimes in from overhead. ‘Aloy’s levels of distress grew to be quite concerning. And I was admittedly unsure of how to combat such a strong disposition.’ She concedes. ‘Dr. Ebadji and Dr. Brochard-Klein were interested to witness how I would handle such an obstacle, and I ultimately deduced that it may be best to call upon your expertise.’

‘I see.’ Elisabet hums, unsurprised that GAIA would defer to her judgement. ‘But what happened?’ Aloy is growing every day. There’s always something new, but nothing like this has ever happened before. ‘What changed?’

‘Attachment figure separation anxiety.’ Patrick states matter-of-factly while taking further notes. ‘She is at that age. Not surprising.’

Elisabet raises a brow, irritation rising once more as she watches him write.

She looks down, however, upon feeling tiny fingers clutching onto her hair.

‘What about the others?’ She decides to ask, allowing Aloy to cling to her as much as she wants.

‘They are responding well to the robotic servitors.’ Samina reports. ‘But will cry if they see either myself or Dr. Brochard-Klein enter the room to place Aloy inside.’

‘It is expected.’ He sighs. ‘Human care givers will always have the upper hand.’ There is something unsaid in his words, a reminding tone as he looks between his superior and the child. ‘The servitors will never be able to compete in such a wavering environment.’

Elisabet does not rise to it, holding onto Aloy stubbornly.

‘Hm…’ She looks instead out into the other room, watching through the glass windows as multiple pods of babies are being taken care of by GAIA’s robotic servitors.

Patrick’s words are true, unfortunately.

In the future, human care givers are not an option.

‘Any ideas to curb it?’ She asks.

‘There are a few things we could attempt.’

Their discussion leads to more work. Everything always does these days.

But by the end of it, Elisabet feels strange.

Aloy has grown quiet in her arms, blissfully drifting to sleep and no doubt exhausted from all the fuss she’s made. One of her tiny hands is still tangled in Elisabet’s hair, holding onto her as she dreams.

When it’s time again for Samina to take Aloy away from her, Elisabet hesitates.

‘I…’ She pauses, a strange instinct in her making itself known that she’s not exactly sure what to do with.

‘Dr. Sobeck?’ Samina questions. ‘Lis?’

She shakes her head.

‘Right.’ Elisabet reluctantly hands over Aloy, and ignores how much it hurts to do so.

Later that day, something happens.

She knew it was coming. Had planned for it well in advance, actually.

But…

It starts when Charles calls her, stating that he’s lost access to GAIA. Then Catalina bursts into her office, overbearing as always as she explains the same thing.

Then Anders. Then Margo. Then Tenaka.

Until eventually everyone on the team is unable to access the system.

Elisabet rounds them all into the main conference room, taking her place at the head of the table amongst the panic of her subordinates.

‘I’m locked out of all my functions!’

‘I still can’t access the system!’

‘Omega Clearance??’

‘What? What the hell is that?’

‘Everyone calm down.’ Elisabet doesn’t have to raise her voice for the room to grow silent.

They all look to her for guidance, reminding her distantly of the first time they all met miles away at a table much like this one. There was fear in their eyes then, but she doesn’t see it there anymore now.

Elisabet takes her time looking over everyone, acknowledging each of them silently, before knowingly sitting back in her chair.

‘I’m sure whatever this is will make itself known soon.’ She keeps her words neutral.

‘That’s right.’ A new voice then enters the room, and Elisabet’s nose wrinkles.

It’s about time he showed his stupid face.

‘Hello, Ted.’ She greets dryly.

‘Elisabet.’ A hologram of Ted Faro appears. ‘I’m sure you and your team are wondering what’s going on.’

‘Very observant of you.’ She comments, unimpressed. ‘Care to explain?’

And explain Ted does.

He speaks of the pure men and women who will be born in the new world that GAIA will create. How they shouldn’t be tainted by the sins of the past. Not when they could have such a brighter future.

When Ted mentions the destruction of APOLLO, Samina bursts into tears.

A few of the Alphas move to comfort her, but Elisabet keeps her gaze and position steady.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And before long, the unmistakable sound of the airlock is heard.

“Emergency alert. Venting atmosphere.”

Screams fill the air as blind panic settles over the room.

But then…

Nothing happens.

‘Airlock suffocation? Really Teddy boy?’ Travis slaps his knee. ‘Naughty naughty.’ He laughs and goes over to Elisabet’s chair, smugly patting the top of it. ‘Saw that comin’ from bout a mile away, what with the heads up from Lis that you were holdin’ onto somethin’ real shady like.’

The look on Ted’s face would have made Elisabet laugh if she wasn’t so furious.

‘You really think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something, Ted?’ She points out with no remorse. ‘And for the record, APOLLO isn’t destroyed. I dismantled your system access ages ago.’

‘Oh thank the heavens.’ Samina places a relieved hand to her heart.

‘Nah, no sirree! Little APOLLO’s right as rain.’ Travis jeers. ‘But I hope you’ve been enjoyin’ that little razzle dazzle light show I’ve whipped up for ya!’

‘I… You…’

In between Ted’s surprised blubbering, Charles then turns on him.

‘Wait, then who the hell did you get to play both sides, Ted?’ He asks, quick on the uptake. ‘To make this “Omega Clearance” of yours?’

‘Uh huh, somebody had to be a little mole digging around in the dirt for ya.’ Travis hums in agreement. ‘So I went snoopin’. You know, what I do best. And found a familiar face had been sendin’ encrypted messages a while back.’ Travis snickers. ‘Hank really was playin the field, if you know what I mean. Caught him with sticky Zenith fingers, but even I didn’t think he was the type to double time.’

‘I…’ Ted is at a loss for words.

‘Hank Shaw is dead, Ted. And I’ve been waiting for you to pull whatever stupid stunt you’ve had up your sleeve this whole time.’ Elisabet does not mince her words, feeling nothing for the Beta candidate that not only helped Far Zenith try to steal GAIA, but also apparently installed this insulting “Omega Clearance” from right under their noses. ‘You’re cut off. Permanently.’

‘Wait. Elisabet. I can explain everything.’

Ted backpedals, trying to regain control of the situation as there is the unmistakable sound of a door locking through his audio feed, trapping him alone in the control room of Thebes.

The Alphas do not buckle, however, yelling at him with outrage.

‘Explain nothing! First the Plague, now this?!’

‘You just tried to kill us all!!’

‘You murderous asshole!!’

One of them in particular brings up a very good point, though.

‘We’re not the only ones in here, you know!?’

Elisabet takes a breath to hide the shiver running down her spine, reminding herself that Aloy and all of the other infants are safe in the ELEUTHIA Wing.

But still, that thought sticks at the forefront of her mind as Ted gets angry.

Which of course he does.

When backed into a corner, pigs always scream at their loudest right before they get to chop.

It’s a fact she’s learned well enough by now from her days growing up on Sobeck Ranch.

And right now, Theodore Faro is nothing but a pig to her.

One that has meddled in her life for way too long.

But, as Elisabet finally hears the sound of Thebes’s control roomair lock initiating, Ted apparently has one more trick up his sleeve.

‘You people don’t understand anything! Without me you wouldn’t even HAVE this system!’ He roars. ‘You’re going to kill those innocent people that will come after us! YOU HEAR ME, LIS? YOU’RE GOING TO KILL THEM ALL, AND I WON’T LET YOU!’

Ted’s actions are sloppy, filled with rage and humiliation, but are effective enough.

The noise of Ted Faro finally getting what’s coming to him should be like music to her ears, but all that Elisabet feels is dread pooling in her stomach as the lights suddenly go out in GAIA Prime.

‘Lis, GAIA is down!’ Margo yells. ‘A forced reboot.’

‘All contact with Elysium is cut, too!’ Anders reports.

Elisabet immediately stands, calling out orders amongst the darkness as GAIA Prime goes dead.

After what feels like an eternity, GAIA finally returns to them, but strangely enough, the connection to Elysium does not return with her.

Elisabet stays behind with GAIA as the AI regains herself, and sends the Alphas away to check on their respective subordinate systems. Adrenaline courses through her veins as she works in the dim light of her focus band, feeling something like that familiar hurt stirring in her chest as she finds herself stuck in the main conference room for far longer than she wants.

Over time, the all clears slowly start to trickle in from the Alphas, as does the rest of the power to the facility. But only when she receives one from ELEUTHIA does she feel like she can breathe again.

It’s many hours later, once the safety of everyone in GAIA Prime is assured, that Elisabet is finally able to head toward the ELEUTHIA Wing.

Something primal takes control of her limbs on the way there, and she runs the last few stretches down the hall without thought. Patrick is still there at his desk, but he says nothing as Elisabet immediately enters the private room where the babies are kept.

Aloy is right where Elisabet knows she would be, in the pod that birthed her, and she doesn’t hesitate to take the baby into her arms, meticulously checking her over for any distress or injury.

‘She is unharmed.’ Is all Patrick says.

Elisabet glances back at him, expecting to find him writing again in that stupid book.

But instead, she sees something a bit softer than usual in his eyes.

She can only nod in response to it, untrusting of her own voice, and returns to her room.

Her fingers are shaky as she cradles the back of Aloy’s tiny head and she sinks down on the bed. Aloy squirms and babbles all the while, looking carefree and happy as she grabs onto short red strands once more. The action catches Elisabet’s attention from the headspace she’d fallen into, and she lets out a breath, reminded of what Patrick had said earlier today.

‘Attachment figure, huh?’ She asks in a daze, feeling as Aloy tugs again on her hair.

The sensation is familiar. One she hadn’t known she also needed until now.

‘Yea, it’s me. I’m… I’m your mother, Aloy.’ Her voice is quiet as she admits it for the first time. ‘And I’m here.’ She presses a kiss to her tiny forehead. ‘I’m here.’

She lays down with Aloy in her arms, refusing to let her daughter go until sunrise.

Ted Faro eventually becomes a far off memory as the years pass, but his actions remain.

Despite Elisabet and her team’s best efforts, the connection between GAIA Prime and Elysium does not return. The distance is only a matter of miles, but the facility with all their respective families inside might as well be on the other side of the planet. There is no way of knowing if everyone in Elysium is safe, and no way to ease the guilt in Elisabet’s chest whenever she thinks about it.

But life must continue on.

By the time Aloy reaches 5 years old, she is a little ball of energy. Always curiously running around GAIA Prime without a care in the world in between her APOLLO lessons with Samina. She’s even made a few friends with her fellow clones, but unfortunately not all of them get along.

They are at the age now where they can notice differences in their surroundings.

Especially regarding the adults around them.

And it’s quickly become apparent that some children are treated differently than others.

Elisabet, obviously, has chosen to see her clone as a child of her own.

Samina, Anders, Ayomide and Patrick, although not willing to step into a parental role themselves, have been amicable, and treat their counterparts as if they were personal proteges. Meanwhile Charles, while not particularly fond of this whole venture in the first place, has slowly come around. And he along with Margo ultimately treat their clones kindly, as a sort of odd little sibling.

The others, however, have chosen to have no relationship with their genetic counterparts at all.

Travis couldn’t care less, stating he’d rather stick to his porn, codes and death metal. Tenaka is beholden to his job first and foremost, and treats this as the addition of a coworker and nothing more.

And Catalina…

Elisabet knew that the Lightkeeper Protocol would bring about some heavy pushback.

But…

Catalina’s clone, Camila, is the same age as the other children. And yet, Elisabet has already caught her saying the most vile things. Things that no small child should ever have the capacity to say.

Things that she had to have heard from somewhere…

This afternoon is apparently the latest showing, as when Elisabet walks into the ELEUTHIA Wing, she is met with the scene of Camila taking out her frustrations on Aloy.

‘Again?’ She comes up behind Patrick and Samina to watch through the plated glass of the observation chamber.

‘Unfortunately.’ Patrick only says dryly.

‘Apologies for pulling you away, Dr. Sobeck.’ Samina offers, but Elisabet only waves a hand dismissively, more interested in the commotion going on in the other room.

‘Quit it! Just stop it already!’ Aloy yells, her young voice frustrated.

‘Shut up! You’re such a little shit!’ Camila screams right back.

Elisabet bristles in response, but does not intervene. She and the other scientists stay back, observing GAIA’s intervention by way of the multi-servitors.

‘Children, you sound frustrated.’

‘Let’s run and jump and blow off steam!’

‘You shut up too!’ Camila yells at the holograms, picking some toys up off the floor.

Despite her best efforts to remain neutral, the moment that Elisabet sees those toys hit her daughter, she is up and out of the room. To Aloy’s credit, she catches one and uses it to knock another out of Camila’s hands, but the fighting instantly stops when an adult enters the room.

‘Girls. What is going on in here?’ Elisabet asks sternly.

Aloy blinks, surprise and relief showing on her face as she lays eyes upon her mother, but the expression quickly falls when Camila points at her accusingly.

‘Aloy started it, Dr. Sobeck!’

‘What? No I didn’t!’ Aloy defends herself, looking angered and offended. ‘Stop lying!!’

‘Children, now, please calm down.’ Samina enters behind her superior. ‘Tell me what happened?’

‘I hate her!’ Camila shouts, glaring at Aloy.

‘Camila, that isn’t nice.’ Samina chides, but the girl only huffs and retreats to where the rest of the children are watching on with blatant staring.

Elisabet places her hands on her hips as she watches her go.

‘We need a protocol for physical aggression.’ She observes. ‘And, obviously, a sterner threshold.’

If a fight like this broke out during future generations, GAIA and the servitors would have to handle it all on their own. And right now, there’s no way that’s happening any time soon.

‘Apologies for my shortcomings, Dr. Sobeck.’ GAIA’s voice rings overhead, sounding less jovial than normal.

‘It’s not your fault, GAIA.’ Elisabet assures, her intelligent eyes narrowing as she thinks. ‘I’d rather see all of this now anyway.’

‘Agreed. There is still time to implement changes.’ Samina says as well. ‘So please do not worry, GAIA.’

The AI only hums with acknowledgement as her creator then turns to Samina.

‘Please note down that physical violence was used today.’ She instructs. ‘I’ll green light the issue to be moved up on the priority list.’

‘Yes. Of course, Dr. Sobeck.’

Elisabet nods, and moves to say more, but pauses as she feels someone barrel into her legs.

Aloys clings to her, looking up with earnest green eyes.

‘I didn’t start it.’ Her fingers grasp onto her mother’s shirt. ‘I promise!’

‘I know, Aloy.’ Elisabet sighs, putting a hand atop her daughter’s head.

In doing so, she notices something purple and red on Aloy’s arm.

‘You’re hurt.’ Elisabet crouches to inspect the injury. She gently prods at the wound, seeing a bruise and a thin trail of blood.

‘Ow!’ Aloy flinches away.

‘I informed you, Samina, that those toy designs were not all age appropriate.’ Patrick calls, making use of the control room’s microphone.

‘Apologies. I had thought that these newer designs would be more educational and resource effective.’ Samina hums, looking remorsefully at Aloy. ‘I will take another look.’

‘Call Anders, he’s really good with resource management.’ Elisabet picks up her daughter. ‘I’ll be back after I take her down to the med wing.’ She balances Aloy against her hip as her daughter wraps her little arms around her neck. ‘Can you take care of things here?’

Elisabet glances at Camila, whom has been watching her and Aloy from the sidelines.

The little girl looks away before they can lock eyes.

‘Certainly.’ Samina says, following Elisabet’s line of sight. ‘And…’ She pauses, catching her superior’s attention. ‘I suppose I will call Dr. Fernandez again.’

In response to that notion, Elisabet only nods with a halfhearted sigh and takes her leave.

Aloy is silent in her arms as they exit the ELEUTHIA Wing, and once they’re alone, Elisabet can feel small fingers anxiously running through her hair. The tugging sensation is light and familiar as she waits for her daughter to speak.

‘… I’m sorry, mother.’

Those soft-spoken words give her pause.

‘What are you sorry for, Aloy?’

Her daughter grows quiet again for a moment, her little brow furrowed with emotion.

‘It happened again. I should have stopped it.’

‘Aloy…’ Elisabet starts, but her daughter continues.

‘You’re supposed to be working.’ Aloy sniffles, frustrated tears falling from her eyes.

Hurt once again comes over Elisabet as she looks down at her daughter’s crying face.

Aloy is no longer a baby, but the pain hasn’t lessened.

Not at all.

‘Oh, Aloy.’ She starts, her tone gentle in the way that only happens when the two of them are alone. ‘Yes, my work is important. But can I tell you a secret?’

‘A secret?’ Aloy parrots as the tears pause.

Elisabet places their foreheads together, and allows a smile to fall over her face.

‘You are more important to me than work.’ She admits, watching as surprise comes over her child’s eyes.

‘Really?’ Aloy asks.

‘Yes.’ Elisabet confirms. ‘And I will always be there when you need me.’

‘… Always?’ The hope in Aloy’s voice nearly breaks something inside of Elisabet.

‘That’s right.’ She places a kiss against her daughter’s forehead ‘Always.’

Time ironically seems to fly by in GAIA Prime after that, and all too soon Aloy is 10 years old.

Things have changed so much, but then again, not at all.

Camila’s hatred toward Aloy is holding strong, and it has surprisingly spread.

Never once did Elisabet think that Aloy could be outcast like this, but the reality is here. Jealousy is an ugly thing, after all, and the other children have quickly realized that Aloy is the only one among them to have a parent.

‘Why don’t you run along to your mommy?’

‘Me and my donor don’t need to hug. We have actual work to do, you know!’

‘Go away, mama’s girl!’

Of course, all the mocking ends whenever Elisabet herself is around, but she’s heard plenty enough about it by now from GAIA and the others. They’ve already even made plans to curb it, too, but to Aloy’s credit, she doesn’t seem to care one way or the other about being an outcast.

She spends much more of her time with the adults anyway.

As the inheritor of the Alpha Prime title, Aloy will need to be knowledgeable in all subfunctions, and her studies can be quite demanding to say the least. Much like her mother, though, Aloy has an unyielding fascination with learning, and has been an unstoppable force to be reckoned with.

‘But how does AETHER actually make the air clean?’

‘Why was it named ARTEMIS anyway?’

‘Can HADES really destroy everything? Is there a way to stop it?’

Elisabet can barely keep up with her these days. But she has noticed that whenever Aloy does slow down, it’s often to think about things that she shouldn’t.

‘… What’s out there?’

Elisabet stops in the main lobby, where she and Aloy had been on their way to sit in with Margo and HEPHAESTUS today. She turns around to see the little red-haired girl standing before a door.

One that hasn’t been opened for over a decade.

‘Get away from there.’ She says sternly.

‘But-‘ The girl starts, curiously reaching out to touch it.

‘Now Aloy.’ Elisabet’s tone turns unyielding.

She pulls her daughter away from the door, needing to put distance between it and her child.

‘It’s dangerous out there, Aloy. Do you understand? Don’t ever go near that door again.’

Her daughter doesn’t protest, only casting one last look back as she is led away.

‘… Yes, mother.’

By the time Aloy is 15 years old, tensions within the facility have escalated.

‘But what if it’s true, GAIA? What if…?’

Elisabet had been coming back to their shared room to grab a data folder she left behind, and just so happened to overhear her now teenage daughter having a private conversation with GAIA.

‘All available data suggests that the chances of Dr. Sobeck’s intentions being ingenuine are exceedingly low.’

‘I didn’t ask for chances, GAIA…’

‘Aloy.’ The AI’s voice is softer now. ’Has Elisabet ever given you any indication that she has been deceitful in her affections towards you during all these years?’

‘No…’

‘Then perhaps Camila is mistaken.’

At those words, Elisabet bristles, immediately catching on.

Rage builds in her chest, but she pushes it down as she enters the room.

Aloy looks like a deer caught in headlights as she frantically wipes her cheeks.

The visage of tears in her daughter’s eyes causes hurt to once again fester, but Elisabet says nothing, and merely crosses the room to sit down next to her on the bed. Aloy doesn’t meet her gaze, but when she does eventually speak, she asks a hesitant question.

One that sounds as if it’s been on her mind for some time now.

‘Mother, why did you really accept me? As your daughter?’

The question gives Elisabet pause.

They’ve never had this conversation before.

‘I don’t understand.’ Aloy admits quietly. ‘I’m not like you. I’m a clone, not a real person.’

That sentiment causes Elisabet to startle, but Aloy continues speaking.

‘So why?’ Aloy fiddles her fingers nervously. ‘Please, mother, I… I need to hear the answer.’

Elisabet sits up, turning to face her child directly, and Aloy finally looks at her, waiting with glassy eyes. The vulnerability in them causes the hurt to twinge, but she reaches past it to gather Aloy in her arms.

‘Who told you that?’ She asks gently, her green eyes narrowing with thought. ‘Camila?’

While the other children have since grown, and learned accept Aloy, that girl has never let go of her hatred towards her ever since they were kids.

It’s no longer a secret as to why, knowing what happened to Dr. Fernandez.

Only a note was left behind when Elisabet found Catalina in the POSEIDON Wing years ago. One that stated she had many regrets, but allowing a clone of herself to be made was the worst one of all.

‘It wasn’t Camila.’ Aloy shakes her head. ‘It was me. I told me that.’

Elisabet pulls back a bit to look at her with upturned brows.

‘That’s really how you feel? That you’re not a person?’

Aloy doesn’t ultimately answer, remaining silent as she turns her eyes away.

Elisabet looks her daughter over, in that moment reminded of the day she was born.

Of when Aloy was only a tiny baby within a birthing pod of the ELEUTHIA Wing.

Elisabet remembers how she felt when she listened to Aloy’s little heartbeat through the monitor for the first time, and heard her first breath when the pod was opened. How she had been the first thing that Aloy saw when she opened her tiny green eyes, and how when the other Alphas left after the cloning process was completed, she had been the only one to stay behind.

At the time, Elisabet hadn’t understood it. Why she couldn’t leave that day.

But staring at Aloy now, who has grown old enough to understand, and old enough to ask for answers, it all suddenly clicks.

‘Because I wanted to.’ She answers simply. ‘I wanted to be your mother.’

Aloy goes silent for a few moments, her expression crinkling as she tries to digest this notion.

‘Just that?’ She asks, her voice shaky.

‘Yes.’ Elisabet pulls her daughter close once more.

Aloy no longer fits perfectly into her embrace. No longer is she the small baby that would fall asleep in her arms, or cry when the two of them were separated. But after a moment, Elisabet does feel the familiar sensation of fingers tangling in her hair, and her expression softens as she places a kiss onto Aloy’s forehead.

‘Just that.’

When Aloy is 20 years old, she comes to Elisabet with an idea.

Her eyes are inspired, giving her mother pause straight away.

‘Whatever it is, it seems like you’ve been working on it for a while.’ Elisabet comments as she is pulled by the hand down the hallway, taking note of the full binder that her daughter has in her hands.

‘Yes.’ Aloy impatiently brings her mother into an unused workspace.

Elisabet pauses as they enter, immediately recognizing the main conference room.

It hasn’t been used in years, and the irony of Aloy bringing her here is not lost on Elisabet as she is ushered to take a seat at the head of the table. She watches as her daughter sets up what looks like a well thought out presentation, curious about whatever Aloy has to show her.

‘I’ve been working a lot lately with Dr. Okilo and Anjola.’ Aloy starts, opening up a projection with her focus.

‘I’ve noticed.’

Aloy certainly has been spending a lot of time lately in the MINERVA Wing, working tirelessly with Ayomide and her clone Anjola. But for what reason Elisabet hasn’t been able to figure out yet.

‘I’ve checked with Dr. Okilo about a timeline for MINERVA.’ Aloy explains, showing a specific diagram in her holo presentation. ‘It’s sooner than we first thought. GAIA could shut down the entire Faro Plague in the next year. Or maybe even sooner.’

Elisabet sits back and nods. She knows all of this already, but lets Aloy speak, indulging her.

Aloy then pauses, and Elisabet raises a brow upon noticing that she seems… nervous?

‘When that happens,’ Aloy takes a breath, locking eyes with her mother. ‘I’m going to leave GAIA Prime.’

‘What?!’ Elisabet immediately stands in alarm.

‘I’ll be going to Elysium.’ Aloy gestures overheard as she turns to the next projection, showing off a map, data and figures. Her words are careful, no doubt already expecting pushback. ‘GAIA and I have been talking about it for months, and it is possible to get there safely.’

‘You’ve been talking to GAIA about this?’ Elisabet’s voice is curt with disbelief.

‘Indeed.’ The AI chimes in overhead. ‘Aloy has expressed a want to unite GAIA Prime’s servers with that of Elysium. To combat some of the technological difficulties we have been experiencing ever since Ted Faro’s unfortunate interference.’

Ted. That stupid idiot.

It’s true. Elisabet has never stopped trying, but the fact of the matter is that Elysium is unreachable. Aloy has grown up never knowing her cousin Vivian, or her aunt Sarah, and the fact of the matter is, there’s no way of knowing if the two of them are even still alive anymore.

‘Think about what we could do with that.’ Aloy moves on in her presentation, but by this point Elisabet’s attention is no longer available. ‘If we fixed the connection, we could do so much more with the system! MINERVA probably could have been up and running years ago by now, and-‘

‘No.’

The word stops Aloy in her tracks, and Elisabet looks at her young daughter, her eyes hardening.

‘You’re not going out there, Aloy.’

‘Mother, don’t worry, I already have it all figured out.’ Aloy slides over her binder, one that is tagged and noted extensively, but her mother doesn’t spare it a glance. ‘I know there’s some danger, but-‘

‘Of course there’s danger!’ Elisabet raises her voice. ‘Aloy, you don’t know even the slightest magnitude of what you’re suggesting. Those robots destroyed our entire planet! Billions of people!’ She gestures angrily. ‘And you want to go out there with them?!’

‘They’ll all be shut down.’ Aloy soothes, holding up her hands. ‘I’ll be careful. I promise.’

‘No amount of fail-safes are not going to cut it with this.’ Elisabet finally looks down at Aloy’s notes, shaking her head in disapproval as she flips through the pages. ‘What if the signal doesn’t take? You’d be putting your life on the line before you even started!’

‘I know, but-‘

‘No.’ Elisabet squares her shoulders stubbornly, closing the binder. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

Aloy blinks, then does the same, looking like a mirror image of her mother.

‘I can’t just sit by and do nothing.’ She says with conviction. ‘I’m going to do this. Whether you want me to or not.’

‘If you go out there, it’s suicide.’ Elisabet says firmly. ‘And I can’t afford to lose you. GAIA can’t afford to lose you.’

‘I was created to be your successor.’ Aloy says sharply.

The notion has Elisabet recoiling as if she’d been slapped.

‘You taught me everything I know. And for that I’ll always be grateful.’ Aloy says with determination. ‘But if I’m going to live up to you, I need to do things my own way. Starting with this.’  

‘Aloy.’ Elisabet blinks, eyebrows upturning.

‘Mother.’ Aloy says back. ‘You’ve always taught me to do the right thing.’ She acknowledges. ‘And right now I have things I want to do. Things that need to be done. For GAIA. And for the world.’

There is then a sudden hint of glass in her gaze, and hurt once again consumes Elisabet.

‘… You can’t keep me locked away in here my whole life.’

‘Yes, I can.’ Elisabet says, keeping her voice even as she remembers what happened years ago. When Aloy was enchanted by the exit door of GAIA Prime. ‘Because this is where you’re safe.’

Aloy looks at her for a few moments more, then says nothing. She only shakes her head as she turns to leave, and Elisabet feels something shatter between them in her wake.

Months pass by and they’ve barely spoken.

Every day that hurt in Elisabet’s chest grows deeper and deeper the longer that this chasm remains between her and her daughter. Until eventually, as predicted, GAIA utilizes MINERVA to shut down the Faro Plague once and for all.

As with everything, Elisabet is the first to know, and she seeks out Aloy to tell her the good news.

But as she enters their shared room, her daughter is nowhere to be found.

‘Aloy?’

‘Elisabet…’ GAIA calls overhead.

The fact that she uses her name and not Dr. Sobeck causes her to freeze.

‘Aloy is not here.’

‘What?’ Elisabet asks slowly. A part of her hurts like ice.

‘She has left GAIA Prime. To re-establish the connection with Elysium.’

‘Shit!’ Elisabet swears, racing down the hall.

She attempts to call Aloy’s focus, but there is no response, and she runs toward the main lobby.

The gene locked door is no longer red, signaling that it has been opened recently.

Elisabet opens it once more, and pushes past the 20 years of dust and cobwebs in the airlock hallway to reach where they keep the emergency environmental suits. One of them is noticeably missing, and that thought pushes her to move faster as she also pulls one on and steps outside for the first time in decades. The world is dark and dusty as Elisabet finally exits the facility, and the sound of the metal door scraping to a close behind her is heavy.

Even so, the sound and weight of her decision is irrelevant as she calls out for her daughter.

‘Aloy!!’

‘Elisabet.’ GAIA’s voice rings in her headset amongst the pounding in her ears. ‘Please return inside. It is unsafe for you outside of the facility.’

‘I don’t care!’ Elisabet denies, pushing herself out into the barren landscape after her child.

She turns on her headlamp and runs aimlessly in the dimmed world, her heavy environmental boots pounding against ash and rock. There is dust and debris floating in the lifeless air, long ago burned dark with the loss of the sun. Her footsteps sound nothing like the tapping steps she’d gotten used to against the pristine floors of GAIA Prime, and she focuses her mind on the jarring sound lest the reality of what she’s doing sink in any further.

Aloy is nowhere to be found near the facility, but after a few minutes her focus band finally picks up a signal. Elisabet runs toward it, eventually spotting her daughter in the distance.

It’s hard to make out, but Aloy… doesn’t look like herself.

She has weapons. A bow and spear. Instead of an environmental suit, she now wears strange looking armor. And her once well-kempt hair is now loose and braided with fishtails and beads.

Aloy is fighting something, and Elisabet picks up her pace when red dots pierce the darkness.

There’s… thousands of them. A terrifying army that has been laid dormant until now.

One of the lights is massive. A distant eye of red.

A Horus.

And her daughter is charging right at it.

‘Aloy!’ Elisabet calls, but is unable to be heard as her daughter brandish her bow.

‘ALOY!!’

Elisabet gasps and startles, her vision blurry as she opens her eyes.

The dark blue patches of a woven quilt immediately greet her vision. Along with matching blue bed sheets and pillows. A desk is in the corner. A bookshelf along the wall. A nightstand by the bed with photos and a ticking clock. She can distantly hear her own heavy breathing, and feel how clammy and lifeless her limbs are, barely useable with the last remnants of sleep.

Strangely, though, one of her arms is raised in the air.

But she isn’t the one lifting it.

‘Mother?’

Aloy is standing above her, holding up Elisabet’s arm and looking as if she was just about to slot into place next to her beneath the blankets.

Elisabet doesn’t respond, the last of the fog in her vision vanishing as she looks over her daughter. Aloy appears freshly showered, the red of her hair a bit damp along with her fishtail braids and beads. There is no armor fitted around her frame, only a familiar casual outfit of soft leathers.

‘I um… I’m sorry I woke you.’ Aloy says, looking startled herself and unsure of what else to say.

‘You didn’t.’ Elisabet says as if on autopilot.

She finishes catching her breath, then lightly tugs the arm that is still within her daughter’s grasp.

‘Come here, sunrise.’

Her daughter obliges and finishes pulling back the blankets to duck underneath her mother’s arm and into her embrace. Elisabet pulls her close, burying her face into Aloy’s hair as the two of them settle.

Even after showering, Aloy still always smells of machine oil and the lingering wilds.

Elisabet focuses on it, the scent calming her in a way that nothing else can.

‘When did you get home?’ She asks, almost unconsciously.

‘A little while ago.’ Aloy admits, shifting to wrap her arms tightly around her mother. ‘You were calling for me.’ She says cautiously, peeking upwards. ‘Bad dreams?’

Elisabet doesn’t respond, only shifting to hold Aloy tighter.

In doing so, she notices that there is a suspicious bandage on her arm. The faintest dot of red is peeking through it, and as she runs gentle, questioning fingers over it, Aloy shifts uncomfortably.

‘A longleg got a lucky hit in.’ She explains, her tone light as if that would make the information any easier to hear. ‘That’s all.’

Elisabet is quiet for a moment, then pulls back a bit to look her daughter over for more injuries.

‘I’m fine, mother.’ Aloy stops her. ‘Really.’

‘You told me you would be careful.’ Elisabet points out, her voice kind yet still accusatory.

‘I’m always careful.’ Aloy assures, settling into her mother’s embrace once more. ‘It’s just a scratch.’

Her mother takes in a breath, looking as if she wants to protest further, before reluctantly allowing the subject to drop as she sees the circles underneath Aloy’s eyes. Instead, Elisabet only pulls Aloy closer, shielding her daughter from the world.

For as long as she can.

End

At sunrise, Elisabet wakes to find Aloy still peacefully slumbering in her embrace.

This notion isn’t surprising, as she has quickly noticed that despite being able to wake at the mere sound of a pin drop, Aloy can easily fall asleep and stay asleep whenever the two of them are together like this. GAIA has even mentioned it once, too, stating that it is quite common for children to find the task of sleeping easier when in the direct presence of their parents.

While that notion causes something warm to stir in Elisabet’s chest, she’s honestly just grateful that she can help her daughter get all of the rest she needs. Even going so far as to sometimes secretly stay in bed for longer periods of time so that Aloy can sleep in long after sunrise.

Today is one of those days, Elisabet decides, as she takes another look at the bandage on her daughter’s arm. Hurt settles over her chest once more as she silently runs her fingers over it, before an idea suddenly settles into her mind.

Aloy doesn’t stir when Elisabet reaches for the focus band on her nightstand, continuing to lay relaxed liked a ragdoll in her mother’s embrace. The now familiar sensation of fingers tangled in her hair also remains, and Elisabet pauses when Aloy unconsciously tugs against the short red strands in her sleep.

The action is an involuntary reflex, no doubt from Aloy’s many years of mastering archery.

A small, affectionate smile falls over Elisabet’s face in response to it, and she places a kiss to Aloy’s forehead, before silently opening her focus to begin working on schematics for a new machine.