The Operator lay flat against the floor of the Liset, arms sprawled loosely at their sides, the faint hum of the engines a comforting buzz beneath their Warframe. The viewport stretched in front of them like a wide canvas, the clouds below lazily drifting past as Earth's atmosphere slipped beneath their orbit. They weren't tired—technically, they couldn't be—but today had been a DAY even by Tenno standards and it was just the beginning. So they took a moment to appreciate the quiet.
Ordis said nothing, allowing them the silence.Minutes passed in this tranquil lull, the tension bleeding out of the Operator's limbs every second that passed until he finally spoke, voice soft and distant.
"Hey Ordis… I think we found the culprit for that moon biosphere's abandonment."
There was a pause before Ordis answered. "Yes, Operator. I would say that's a very safe assumption."
"She's not following us, right? She should've woken up by now."
Another pause. Then Ordis's voice returned, calm and clear. "Scans confirm she has returned to dormancy in orbit. Her movement has ceased entirely."
A genuine, weary breath of relief escaped the Operator. The Operator had figured she wouldn't follow after her leaving her stomping grounds but confirmation was needed for this sort of thing.
"Good," they murmured, then added, "You did some damn good flying Ordis. I think we might've just been the first Tenno and ship Cephalon to dogfight out of a landing craft. Cy might be jealous when he finds out."
If Ordis could smile, he would have. "Thank you, Operator. Your compliment is greatly appreciated. And I must admit, fighting alongside you like that was exhilarating. Even more so than when we fought Hunhow in the weave to save Cephalon Suda."
The Operator chuckled softly, closing their eyes for just a moment to remember that day clearly "Yeah. Let's not make it a habit, though."
Ordis also chuckled, a sound that somehow carried the tone of an old man waving off excitement he secretly enjoyed. "Agreed, Operator. An old ship Cephalon like me wasn't built to handle this kind of stress. I may need to run a diagnostic on my core before I fragment from the tension."
Before the Operator could respond, a sharp series of beeps and whirrs assaulted their ears as Helios suddenly hovered into view, its sensor arrays flaring and scanning them up and down with almost theatrical urgency.
The Operator laughed louder, unable to help it. "Yeah, yeah. You did good too." They reached out and gently nudged the hovering Sentinel aside, brushing one hand over its long sensor limb. "Thanks for watching our backs buddy."
With a stretch, they sat up cross-legged in their Warframe, settling back into the familiar, poised lotus posture. The moment of rest was over. The mission wasn't.
"Alright, Ordis. Where are we now?"
In answer, the navigation display flickered to life in front of them, projecting a spinning holographic globe. A red dot blinked softly near the eastern edge of the North American continent.
"We are currently above the Atlantic Ocean Operator. Near the east coast of the country known as the United States of America," Ordis confirmed.
The Operator studied the globe for a moment, then nodded. "Find somewhere nearby to land. I want to assess the damage and make whatever repairs we can planetside."
"Understood. Scanning for viable terrain." A brief pause followed, then Ordis continued, "I'm detecting mountainous terrain with rolling hills inland—sparse population, high elevation, adequate cover." Pictures, likely taken from satellites, appeared, giving a visual representation of the area. "Shall I set a course?"
"Sounds perfect," the Operator replied. "Take us in."
The Liset descended swiftly. The clouds parted like curtains as the craft sliced through the atmosphere, the water below rushing up to meet them with breakneck speed. The distance was practically nothing for a ship like the Liset, and within minutes they were gliding low over forested slopes and rugged rock formations.
Ordis brought the ship down toward a wide clearing nestled in the arms of a gentle ridge. Towering trees surrounded the glade like silent guardians, and a sheer cliffside loomed just ahead of them, offering a panoramic view of the landscape stretching to the east.
"We have arrived, Operator," Ordis announced. "No threats detected."
The Operator stood slowly, stretching out their limbs as they walked over to the exit ramp. "Alright, let's see what we're working with."
Ordis, already anticipating the request, opened the ramp with a pneumatic hiss. Cool forest air swept in as the door lowered, revealing the clearing beyond.
Without pause, the Operator jumped out, landing lightly on the forest floor in a crouch. The moment their feet touched down, Ordis eased the Liset backward beneath the overhang of the cliff, nestling the ship into a concealed position. The engines powered down into a passive hover, holding the ship steady just above the earth with minimal energy draw.
From their position on the mossy ground, the Operator stood up and took in the view, Burston Prime in hand and ready for anything. The landscape stretched wide and green, with dense trees trailing off into the distance. Wildlife signals flared briefly across their HUD's map—small mammals, birds, and clusters of insects. Nothing worth attention.
They dismissed the readouts, put their gun on their back, and turned their focus to the Liset. The ship looked battered, no question. Scrapes along the hull. Warps in it from telekinetic blasts. One of the rear thrusters was clearly deformed, its casing warped and plating half-torn.
Helios hovered beside them, sweeping its scanners over the damage. The Operator tilted their head slightly, pulling up the diagnostic overlay from Ordis.
"Looks worse than it is," he muttered. "Thrusters the worst of it. The rest is mostly superficial." A pause as helios pinged them with its own scans. Not exactly necessary but the Tenno wouldn't deny the sentinel its purpose. " And Helios confirms."
The Sentinel chirped, projecting a real-time schematic of the ship. Most of the external damage glowed in dull yellow highlights—cosmetic abrasions, shallow hull impacts, and minor heat scoring. Only the rear right thruster showed red.
Inside the ship, Ordis was already mid-process. "Thank you Helios. Operator, I've finished running full internal diagnostics. Most systems are green. Primary and secondary life support intact. Shield core functioning. Navigation stable. However... cloaking suffered damage. It's possible we were spotted during descent."
The Operator turned their head slightly toward the ship, a subtle flick of attention. "Think it's a problem?"
Ordis hesitated. "Unlikely. The Simurgh disabled a significant number of local observation satellites during our engagement, and given the speed at which we entered the atmosphere, visual tracking would have been near impossible. But... it is within the realm of possibility that someone, somewhere, caught a glimpse. Especially with parahumans involved."
The Operator groaned in slight annoyance. He wanted to remain in the shadows of this world for as long as possible, but after his lightshow in orbit, he knew better than to expect such a luxury. He would make due without complete anonymity.
"Something to worry about later." He raised one hand, summoning the Omni from their Warframe's storage with a flash of energy. The multi-function repair device unfolded in their grip, ready and waiting with plenty of Revolite in store. "Let's get this thruster fixed."
Fifteen minutes later, the Tenno completed the basic repairs. The damaged thruster was restored and the scars on the Liset's frame were mostly patched over. Now back on board, the Operator took their seat at Navigation, one leg crossed over the other, watching as the projected Earth slowly rotated into view at Navigation. Helios wasn't with them now, the Operator had let the curious little Sentinel out to scan nature to its little cerebrums content while he continued the debrief with Ordis.
"The void cloak is once again fully operational," Ordis reported. "We should be undetectable to any native system."
"Should?" the Operator repeated flatly. "I thought you said it was fully operational?"
"Yes... unfortunately, Ordis cannot guarantee protection from parahuman thinker or tinker abilities. The Simurgh's capacity to locate and intercept us was anomalous. If others possess similar predictive or information-gathering traits, the cloak may not be sufficient."
The Operator didn't respond immediately. They simply stared at the globe for a few seconds, thinking about the fight with the relentless false angel and the fact that there were two others in the world with similar capabilities to her.
"Well if that is the case, we need to be even more prepared for her and any other threat in a similar class if it's going to take as long as I think it will for help to arrive.
"Very wise of you Operator," Ordis replied warmly. Then his tone shifted, more alert and worried. "But before we proceed, I believe you will want to see this."
The holographic globe vanished from the navigation array, replaced by an incoming torrent of digital noise. Feeds from news broadcasts, public forums, social media clips, and even encrypted satellite logs started to cycle across the screen. They were raw, chaotic, but unmistakable in what they were capturing.
Grainy cellphone footage played first—videos taken from rooftops, balconies, and streets across the globe. Civilians pointed shaky cameras skyward, panicking as brilliant explosions lit up the clouds far above, the flashes of Ivara's elemental arrows coloring the sky like fireworks. Some screamed, others stared silently as a fight they couldn't even see took place in the heavens.
Then came the telescope shots: amateur astronomers on live streams, freaking out mid-broadcast as they caught glimpses of a strange object darting through the upper atmosphere. Frame-by-frame analysis showed the faint silhouette of the Liset, warped and blurred but still identifiable if you knew what to look for.
One shaky satellite feed played on loop—just five seconds of blurry combat before static took over as its parts began to unravel the Simurgh telekinesis. Then another, showing a brief glimpse of her tinkertech ring and another near indiscernible shot of Ivara hanging by a wire from the Liset before it, too, went dark.
News headlines followed, all in different languages but saying almost the same thing:
"Unidentified Aerial Combat Over Earth's Atmosphere!"
"Endbringer And Alien Encounter?!"
"Government Officials Refuse to Comment on Orbital Incident."
"New Tinker Weaponry or Extraterrestrial Life?"
Blog posts and forum threads exploded with theories. Conspiracy boards were already filled with edited stills of the Liset, circled in red and accompanied by paragraphs of unhinged analysis. Some claimed it was the creation of rogue tinkers belonging to a parahuman organization called Toybox. More than a few jumped straight to aliens, which the Operator found slightly amusing due both its foundation in truth and inaccuracy.
"I tried to limit the damage Operator," Ordis added after some time. "Suppressed as many high quality captures of you as I could but the civilian feeds… well, they're everywhere."
The Tenno exhaled through his nose as he looked at the feeds again—a little disappointed in himself in how fast his cover was blown but it wasn't all that bad. The exposure wasn't total. There was no solid information or even a clear picture of Ivara and the Liset that they could use to confirm his "extraterrestrial" origins.
"Thanks for trying Ordis but I sort of suspected this would happen so it's no big deal. You don't need to do any more damage control. Lets focus back on the threats of this world for now."
"Yes Operator," Ordis replied succinctly before dismissing the feeds.
Once more, the globe of Earth spun slowly, its surface marked with several threat indicators on different continents. Ordis, as requested, had begun compiling intelligence regarding what this world considered high-level threats within the same tier as the Simurgh.
"Operator," Ordis began, his voice calm but brisk, "data packets recovered from previous intercepts and open broadcasts suggest several hostile threats in this continent alone. Three are particularly active and rated S-Class threats by the locals, similar to the Simurgh. The Machine Army at location referred to by the Parahuman Response Team as Site Q3, a biology manipulator in the now destroyed town of Ellisburg labeled 'Nilbog,' and a roving group of MURDERERS known as the Slaughterhouse Nine."
The operator's eyes widened minutely in the transference chamber, that was the first glitch from Ordis they had heard in a while. The last group, judging by their name alone, had to be real scum if they got Ordis worked up enough to glitch like that. However, this machine army and the biological anomaly that sounded like the Sentient and the Infested warranted more of his attention first.
"Start with the Machine Army Ordis." The Tenno ordered.
"Of course, they are a swarm of autonomous self-replicating, self-upgrading AI believed to have originated from a rogue tinker in the town who lost control of it and died during the AI's violent takeover of the area. It continues to maintain control of Eagleton Tennessee with hostile precision, eliminating intruders on sight, and adapting to most of this world's mundane and Parahuman countermeasures."
The Operator nodded slightly in relief that they definitely weren't sentients. Without relying on Umbra or transference, they were annoying to fight. Though he wouldn't be too worried about taking on some Sentients without those things as he had one of his Incarnon weapons equipped.
"So basically a bunch of rogue Corpus proxies," the Tenno surmised nonchalantly. If these AI were anything close to the Sentients, a little containment zone wouldn't have stopped them.
"A fitting comparison Operator. We have no telemetry inside the quarantine zone without breaking into secure PRT communications but satellite observations and my own scans before the Simurgh incident showed advanced, by this world's standards, drone formations but nothing on the level of the Sentients."
More data on their capabilities and forms was provided on navigation but it seemed relatively outdated. "We'll need more intel but from what I'm seeing, Mag should be more than enough to clear these wannabe Sentients out if we ever end up going there."
"Agreed." Ordis replied.
"Next, I wanna hear about this Nilbog guy."
"Ellisburg. Site E2. Occupied by a parahuman bio-tinker known as Nilbog. He has turned the quarantine zone into a fiefdom after killing all its inhabitants and the retaliatory force that came to apprehend him. His abilities let him generate empowered biological entities through bio-modification and forced reproduction."
"Great," The Operator grumbled as he read the new information and thought back to a similar situation with a certain warframe obsessed corpus researcher whose name was one letter off from sounding like salad. "We have a madman with control of this world version of the Infested."
"Indeed. The process he uses has similarities to the Infestation, though Nilbog and his creations lack the parasitic hunger and exponential spread of the technocyte. His creations are loyal, territorial, and not inherently expansionist so containment is stable for now. His interest appears to be inward."
"If that changes, we move, and he dies." The tenno spoke calmly with the finality of someone who was judge, jury and executioner. "I don't know why the powers of this world haven't wiped him and his pet monsters from the map but I can't let someone so dangerous keep living if he poses even half of the danger the infestation would to this world."
"I concur operator, I believe Saryn would be ideal for EXTERMINATING that particular parahuman," Ordis added on.
'Yeah, she would be.' The Operator thought somewhat wistfully. 'Sol, I could think of plenty of other warframes and weapons I could use to kill this Mutalist Alad V knock off, the Simurgh, and every other threat to me and this world. It probably wouldn't even take a full planetary rotation to do it if I'm fast and chose my loadout well.'
The Tenno's thoughts were little more than a fanciful dream at this point in time. The Man In The Wall had compromised his arsenal, so stacking the proverbial deck against his enemies by choosing warframes and weapons to perfectly counter their abilities and exploit their weaknesses was not possible.
"Tell me about these murderers Ordis," He asked after some time with his thoughts.
The display shifted again. New data flowed across the holographic globe.
"The Slaughterhouse Nine," Ordis continued in a voice dripping with disdain. "Unlike the others on this continent, they have no base of operations. They are migratory. Their tactics include psychological warfare, targeted abductions, civilian massacres, and the elimination of other parahumans."
Images flashed across the display—scorched buildings, broken capes, mutilated corpses and new feeds and articles displaying the gruesome results of their sick games. The Operator's jaw clenched. He could see why Ordis hated these guys in particular now. They were scum comparable to some of the most depraved Orokin.
Hearing no remarks from their operator, Ordis continued speaking. "Their leader and longest surviving member is Jack Slash—dangerously charismatic, mobile, and lethal."
Images and videos of an average looking but well trimmed bearded man appeared. He wore casual clothing, with only a belt of knives and unnaturally cold eyes to suggest he was anything but normal. Fights of heroes and villains going after him played but they were cut down by an invisible attack when he drew his knife.
The operator continued to say nothing but his mind easily came up with a counter to the man's parahuman ability and dismissed him as a non threat. He could do the same and better with Equinox, Dante, or even just his void beam since normal people couldn't perceive the non-existent colors of the void the way a Tenno could.
What was more interesting to the Tenno was how Jack had managed to stay alive as the sole permanent member and leader of a group of wanted blood thirsty lunatics for years without either being dethroned by the clearly stronger members of the group, assassinated by the local law enforcement or killed by a grieving survivor of one of his slaughters that happen to own a sniper rifle or lots of explosives.
"The team roster fluctuates.." Ordis droned on."But current members include several S-class individuals such as Crawler, Bonesaw, Siberian, and Shatterbird. They are classified by local law enforcement and parahuman organizations as active kill-on-sight targets."
New data, images, and brief clips filled the air around the Operator. He absorbed the information and estimated threat levels based on just his current kit. None of them except the Siberian rated even close to high. The stripped cannibalistic woman seemed truly invulnerable, having no recorded case of ever being injured or slowed down even a bit by some of the strongest warriors of this world.
However, the Tenno did not believe this to be the case. In his own experience killing and using some of the many beings in the Origin System who could boast to be invulnerable, there was always a gimmick. And if there wasn't, just apply generous amounts of void energy.
Ordis was quiet as the information on the different members cycled through the Operator's vision. The Tenno either commenting on the members or asking Ordis for clarification on certain parts of the report.
Then he saw a face that shouldnt belong on this list.
Bonesaw. A biotinker and little girl, maybe twelve years old at most. She had blonde hair and a bright smile, despite being covered in blood and guts when the photo was taken. She was too young to be standing among madmen and murderers, but there she was. Not a hostage, but an active participant who reveled in the bloodshed and torture as much as her comrades.
The Operator stared at her face in the stills and videos for a good long while, not even he was sure what he was looking for until he focused on her eyes. Behind the childlike grin, her eyes were cold, detached. Familiar.
He'd seen that look in fellow Tenno, long ago aboard the Zariman Ten Zero and in Margulis care. It was the eyes of children who had lived through too much, too fast. The experience stripping whatever innocence she might've had before. Burned out no doubt by the oh so charismatic Jack Slash.
His fist clenched in anger. If the Machine Army were Corpus and Nilbog the Infested, then the Nine were Orokin. The Grustrag Three could be considered more fitting but those insane Grineer didn't twist children into being their loyal killing machines. Orokin did that.
The more he stared at her pictures and videos the more he wanted to end Bonesaw. Not out of anger or hate, but to free her from the hell she didn't even know she was living in right now. Saving and rehabilitating her didn't seem a viable option in their current situation and Bonesaw was rightly hated and wanted dead by this country's people for her atrocities and crimes, regardless of her age. Her victims and their loved ones deserved some sort of justice after all.
Yet, another part of him wanted to save her. Like Margulis had saved him. Like the Lotus had adopted them. But there were no guarantees, only choices. And when the time came, he'd make one. What that choice was now, he couldn't tell. But one way or another, he would bring her peace.
Ordis, oblivious to his thoughts, continued to speak. Voice shifting from disgust to delight. "Operator look, their kill orders are tied to substantial bounty rewards! Should you choose to rid the world of these ANIMALS and claim the reward, I have taken the liberty of tracking them through local surveillance nodes and have marked them on navigation."
The data on the nine were put away and a camera feed tracking a drab, tinted window RV strolling down a highway appeared.
"Would you like to set a course for them, Operator?" The ship cephalon sounded excited, blood thirsty even. It was clear what he wanted the answer to be.
The Operator leaned back in Ivara, their fingers on their knees, thrumming them like bow strings. Then with a slow shake of her head, answered. "No. Not yet. Keep an eye on them. Alert me the moment they try to attack anyone but we're not striking yet."
The Tenno didn't doubt his ability to kill the Nine but he wanted more time to think about what to do with Bonesaw. Furthermore, something stank about all of this to him. Not just the Slaughterhouse Nine running free for so long but Nilbog and the Machine Army. The way the threats were handled and cornered away without ever being truly dealt with rubbed him the wrong way and he wanted to find out why.
There was also the fact that their main mission now was to get back to the Origin System and their secondary mission was to figure out why the Indifference sent them here. As a Tenno, he was honor bound to help the innocent where he could, so he would eventually kill some, if not all, of these S-Class threats before he left.
He wouldn't be able to face his family—those gone and still alive—if he didn't. However, his first priority in this new world would always be getting back to his family.
Ordis's voice, tinged with surprise and enthusiasm, cut through the Tenno's thoughts. "Understood Operator, while it is a shame you will not eliminate those—CRAZED LUNATICS—criminals right now, Ordis has discovered something rather fascinating. According to several broadcasts and the world wide digital network… this version of Earth possesses pathways to alternate Earths."
The Ivara's head jerked up, its main optic locking onto the ceiling of the Liset. It was as close to eye contact with Ordis as the frame could manage outside the Weave—and in a way, it was.
There was a long pause as the Tenno tried to make sense of this news. How could this world—primitive by most standards of the Origin System—have cracked interdimensional travel without the Void? Sol, they hadn't even colonized the moon and yet they had interdimensional travel. He ran through several theories on why this could be in quick succession, even trying to tie it back to the Infestation somehow.
Eventually, he gave up and simply decided that these Tinkers were bullshit. "Could you elaborate on that Ordis?"
"Of course, Operator," Ordis replied as several data feeds began to flicker into view. "It is public knowledge—though, I must admit, due to this world's generally primitive technological base and the limited impact of this alternate Earth outside of consumer media, Ordis initially dismissed it as speculative nonsense when we were in Orbit. A mistake I regret."
The Tenno remained still, listening closely as the Cephalon continued. He didn't even blame Ordis for missing such valuable information. This place was weird and nonsensical.
"Upon closer inspection, however, I discovered that a real, stable interdimensional portal exists somewhere. It was created by the well known and now-deceased Tinker named Professor Haywire and has been active for some time. Unfortunately, its exact location is highly classified and almost certainly guarded. I have found no trace of it in public data caches. Furthermore, the only other known site containing Haywire's technology was attacked, used, and subsequently destroyed by the Simurgh during a prior attack."
The Warframe leaned forward slightly, an unspoken mix of suspicion and hope in the Ivara frames body language. The Operator couldn't believe getting home would really be this simple. It couldn't be with a Tenno's luck. But he wouldn't know that for sure unless he got his hands on that technology.
"Ordis," the Operator said, voice low but firm. "Find me the nearest major Parahuman Response Team headquarters. We're going to know everything they do about this portal technology and where they keep it."