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Chapter Text

But how will the beings of the universe view our resolve? I doubt they will understand what we did… the danger we barely averted. They will hold tribunals and investigations. They will hold us responsible. Adam understood this, and he spoke to me in my anger:

“Do not worry. One of them will understand. One of them must.”

I’ve reflected upon his words, and I see the wisdom in them. We are all bound by our experiences. They are the limits of our consciousness. But in the end, the human soul will ever reach for the truth.

In the grand scheme of things, Biologics Space Laboratories were not the wealthiest nor the most innovative bioresearch company the Galactic Federation had on their payroll. They were, however, the most important, and for one reason: they were the first to discover and, for a time, successfully contain the X-Parasites.

This hot status among the cutting-edge biological research community not only raised envies among the other private corporations and Federal research entities, but raised genuine legal concerns over the monopolization over a threat like the X-Parasites. To no one’s particular surprise, BSL’s status was short-lived, as their laboratory came crashing down into the surface of SR-388 with enough force to cause planet-wide devastating tectonic consequences that shook its already fragile ecosystem into a Class-VII wasteland and permanently shifted its orbit.

Following the event, protests broke out and strikes were organized from the scientific community in outrage against reckless bioweapon meddling at the hands of the Federation and the private research sector. Something had to be done. Someone needed to be blamed.

There was one person – someone well-known not just to the Federation scientific community, but well-known to the entire galaxy, and more to the point, with close ties to the events leading up to the space station’s destruction.

Samus Aran stared into the depths of outer space, accompanied by a rogue AI, a Dachora, and three Etecoons–animals she’d been keeping as pets in her ship ever since her final rendezvous with Mother Brain. The soft beeping of the dashboard was the only sound penetrating the deep silence of the ship. As usual, Samus didn’t have anything to say.

No–she had a lot to say. She was simply choosing not to speak, as she sometimes did. Nonetheless, there was a lot on her mind.

“You don’t have to do this, Lady,” Adam said. But she knew she did.

They came to a large, lush, green planet, and Samus landed in a dense rainforest biome. The animals stretched and shook their heads awake.

Samus snapped her fingers to catch their attention, then motioned them to the elevating platform of the ship. After a few moments and a shared group of yawns, they obeyed and huddled around her on the platform.

The dense air hit Samus’ skin, reminding her instantly of the feel of home. Zebes was similarly humid and heavy… and to her mind, served as a perfect environment. Not for her, of course. It was likely nowhere was safe anymore.

No, it would be a perfect environment for these precious animals who she’d robbed of a home and both their respective species. There was only one Dachora left, making it a certainty her species would be lost to time forever. The Etecoons, however, might have a chance at creating a deformed, inbred lineage on an alien world that may just be as hostile as Zebes was.

The animals looked around at this environment, sheepish and afraid. They clung to the bounty hunter. “It’s okay,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Go! Be free.”

The Dachora slowly stepped out from under the ship. The rain, warm and heavy, was just like home. She shook her head, spotted a cave overgrown with trees and foliage, and chirped a few times. The Etecoons looked up at Samus with uncertainty, then hopped over to join her. She watched the three approach and disappear into the cave, as if it were as safe and appealing as a log cabin. Of course, that’s how things were back on Zebes–at least for them.

Samus wiped the tears from her eyes, elevating back into the ship. She sat down and took a deep breath.

“Give me the update,” she said.

“Are you sure? It’s grim.”

She didn’t have the energy to answer.

“Very well. General Walgrent of the Federation military has officially signed an emergency apprehension warrant. Conditions are… dead or alive.”

Samus expected nothing less. “This means I can turn myself in,” she said.

“That’s not all. The Council have issued indictments on several charges, many of which could land you in prison for the rest of your life. We both know the Federation wanted to exploit that station, and we took that away from them.”

“What does the public know? Any speculation?”

“I only have access to military channels, and I don’t know how long that will last. Sorry, Lady.”

Samus sat back in her chair, her eyes looking to the ceiling for answers. The heavy rain fell onto the viewport, collecting and flooding in little crevices. “Okay,” she said, punching coordinates into the navigational computer.

“Thought of somewhere safe?”

“For now.”

“Commander Dane, this is Chief General Walgrent. I’ve officially signed an emergency apprehension warrant for the arrest of bounty hunter Samus Aran. I am giving you full authority over your subordinate fleets to use any means necessary to stop her. This is a top priority mission.”

Commander Dane’s eyes widened at the mention of the name. Samus Aran was not just a household name across the galaxy – it was a name that had years of good, honest history dating back to the Phazon Crisis. He’d heard the rumors going around about Samus possibly being involved in BSL research missions, but he had no idea it would ever come to this.

In the Federation courts, indictments began rolling out for crimes that would net Samus dozens of years behind bars. She was partly responsible for the destruction of the most dangerous research station in the galaxy, and instead of facing the music, she disappeared with a stolen Federation ship carrying a computerized copy of Commander Adam Malkovich.

Remote attempts by the Federation to both track and disable the ship following the event have failed, raising questions about a rogue artificial intelligence. Rogue AI seemed to have become a buzzword to the Federation military community, and for good reason: Mother Brain was the most exalted artificial intelligence ever created, having been forged by the Chozo for optimal efficiency, and yet its directives ultimately led it to genocide. Then there were the easily corruptible Aurora Units which were even given responsibility over significant amounts of military computing and assigning power.

Footage from the BSL event suggested that Samus was in league not just with BSL, but with the rogue Malkovich AI, tying together a scary and confusing web of relations and events. As a result, Biologics Space Laboratories has been shut down by the Galactic Federation and its members have been put on trial for concealing not just X-Parasite experiments, but live Metroids cloned from the remnants of Samus’ old armor suit.

However, there was one voice–a single spokeswoman in the media–who spoke out against the tide. She argued that Samus, up until this single event, was a heroine to the galaxy. She’d saved it countless times from the Space Pirates, from the effects of the Phazon Crisis, and much more. She argued that, despite everything Samus has been through, she isn’t just any battle-hardened bounty hunter trying to make money off of the Metroids that her life have revolved around for the past ten years.

This spokeswoman, known to her fans as AltMinister, suggested that the Federation should instead be looking inward at the people and the money that made the BSL as powerful as it did as quickly as they did. “This has ‘fishy’ written all over it, and to tell you the truth, I’d take Samus Aran’s side over just about anyone,” she said on record in front of millions, all of whom would echo her sentiment against the raging tide of federal criminal charges.

Chapter Text

In a remote corner of Federation space called the Dasha region, an ancient gray world called Aether sat comfortably in the warmth of its star, basking and harnessing its energy. As Samus’ ship neared the planet’s atmosphere, she noticed that it was a shade greener than she remembered. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but she had the hope that the world had recovered somewhat since she’d single-handedly settled their interdimensional affairs.

The ship landed on a small spaceport at the Temple Grounds. Through the viewport, Samus smiled at the sight of a Luminoth individual, tall and strong with blood-red joints and a healthy beige tinge to his fur, approaching the ship with a staff made of white crystal in hand. 

As soon as Samus exited the ship and the Luminoth recognized her iconic suit of armor, he bowed deeply. He spoke not in the native Luminoth tongue, but in a uniquely accented form of Galactic-Standard: “Welcome, Samus. I am K-Daz, Sentinel of the Temple Grounds. The Luminoth are honored with your presence.”

“The honor is mine,” Samus said out loud. “Sentinel K-Daz, I am on a mission. I must see U-Mos at once.”

The Sentinel rose, then guided her to the elevator. During the ride, K-Daz turned to her and said, “Samus, I was there in the Temple the day you destroyed the Emperor Ing. You left without so much as a word. It is good to finally learn the sound of your voice.”

Samus smiled sadly, but didn’t say anything back. When the elevator reached the top, K-Daz regarded her with another bow, then left silently. Samus stepped through the inner temple, trading glances and appreciative nods with other Luminoth guardsmen. After another short elevator ride and a climb up a somewhat steep incline, Samus came to the planetary energy controller. 

There was U-Mos, quietly meditating to the sound and sight of the concentrated, harnessed light of Aether.

Other than the structural security of the controller itself, little had changed about the room she’d first stepped into during the war with the Ing. Samus approached, intending on making herself known with the opaque sound of her footsteps.

U-Mos turned, spotting Samus out of the corner of his eye. His wings fluttered, and he bowed. “Samus, it has been a long time. Welcome back to Aether.”

Samus bowed in return, allowing him to continue. “It has been almost a decacycle since you freed us from our world’s shadow. I have been paying attention to the galactic situation. You seek shelter.”

U-Mos’ gaze broke. He looked at the energy controller. “The Federation will come here. Then, they will go to the Elysians and the Bryyonians and the beings of whoever may still exist in the Zebes system. They will look everywhere, and we cannot hide you from them.”

Samus nodded gravely.

“However, hope is not lost,” U-Mos said, returning his eyes to her. He came a few feet closer to her, then opened his hand. An amber hologram of a planet appeared, overtaken by harsh, striated atmospheric storms. “There is a world far outside Federation territory that has established contact with us ever since the destruction of Zebes. We now speak with the Mawkin, the last remaining tribe of Chozo.”

The last word in that sentence sent a shock down Samus’ spine.

“They have been waiting for you, Samus,” U-Mos said, withdrawing his palm. “They have been waiting for something like this to happen. I have transmitted the planet’s coordinates to you.” U-Mos raised his arms in the air, basking in the light. Speckles of white glitter fell from his hands. “May the light of Aether light your path.”

Samus bowed, then left. She bode K-Daz farewell, then entered her ship. “We’re not staying?” Adam asked as Samus punched in the coordinates U-Mos gave her. The planet appeared on the star map not under a name, but under a short designation.

“ZDR?” Adam asked incredulously. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Aether was not, in fact, the first place Commander Dane’s armies checked. It wasn’t even on their list of major possibilities. Most of Samus’ independent work contacts from her freelancing years were on populated Federation worlds like Earth and Daiban, and with a hijacked and untrackable ship, most of the military assumed she would want to hide in plain sight. After all, the galaxy was full of tall, peach-skinned, blonde human women.

When Admiral Juno Tong, current commander of the G.F.S. Olympus, suggested investigating and scouting Aether, Commander Dane shut it down on the grounds of protecting the endangered and indigenous Luminoth population from Federal influence. This made Admiral Tong privately suspicious of Commander Dane, but cooperative nonetheless, as Dane had a history of protecting the vulnerable.

However, their list of places to check was running dry, and there was no other choice but to search the various worlds affected by the Phazon Crisis. With the Federation Council breathing down his neck, Commander Dane authorized Admiral Tong to send a total of eight scouting probes to monitor Aether, Tallon IV, Bryyo, and Elysia. 

These probes were unmanned, and basically acted as ultra high-definition cameras that would catch any ship entering or leaving the atmosphere from both hemispheres. However, despite the distance the Aether probes kept from the planet, they were quickly detected and sent a message of invitation “to whomever among the Galactic Federation it may concern.”

Admiral Tong jumped on this opportunity, even requesting permission to speak to the Luminoth leadership himself. In a matter of hours, he was on his way to the gray planet with a small investigative squadron.

Upon landing, the Admiral’s forces rushed in formation from the ship, vanguarding Admiral Tong’s entrance to his audience of one Luminoth Sentinel. “Welcome, Galactic Federation, to Aether.” He bowed in their presence, completely unaffected by the dramatic display. Tong approached just within about five meters of the Sentinel. “I am K-Daz, Sentinel of the Temple Grounds.”

“Good morning, Sentinel. I’m Admiral Juno Tong of the Galactic Federation military. I’m here to see U-Mos.”

“Right away, Admiral. This way.”

Tong and five of his guardsmen entered the energy controller room, amazed at the sheer warmth and glory of the Great Temple. U-Mos stood idly, then bowed graciously as they approached. “Welcome. I am U-Mos, Sentinel of the Great Temple.”

“Good morning. I’m Admiral Tong. You’ve never met him, but my Commander, Castor Dane, has a soft spot for your world and your people.”

U-Mos stood, allowing him to continue.

“I can see why. You have a beautiful temple. Gracious people. You’ve fought hard to earn your peace back. I remember being the lieutenant commander of a recon-based ground battalion during those days and hearing about the sudden destruction of the Ing Hive and thinking, ‘There was so much going on under our noses, and Samus Aran managed to save this world in a matter of hours while Lieutenant Ford’s battalion was struggling to capture any kind of useful data at all.’”

“We owe our civilization’s continued survival to her generous efforts,” U-Mos said. “As do you, many times over.”

A pre-existing look of smug contentment on Admiral Tong’s face slowly morphed into a frown as his eyes dulled. He placed his hands behind his back, then began slowly pacing back and forth. He made subtle eyes with each of his men, who then casually began scattering around and peering at things around the room. U-Mos’ attention was undivided.

“It seems you’ve been doing well keeping mostly to yourselves. Are you caught up with the galactic situation?”

“We choose not to burden ourselves with anxieties beyond our purview.”

Admiral Tong paused before continuing his line of questioning. “High Sentinel…”

“Please, just U-Mos.”

“U-Mos, has Samus Aran visited Aether recently?”

“Samus has not returned since freeing us from the Ing’s destruction. Why?”

The answer was too prompt, and the question tailed at the end too delayed. The Admiral was searching for any kind of clue or misstep in his speech patterns, and he found it. “She’s missing,” he said. “Potentially in danger. She’s recently been pulled into something beyond her own purview, and we think she’s running from the people responsible for pulling her into it. We want to get to her before they do. So… if you know anything, or find anything or remember anything… the probes will be there.”

“If Samus returns, we will contact you on our terms,” U-Mos replies. “In the meantime, I ask that the probes be removed for our privacy.”

“Oh, I’m afraid the probes will have to stay for now,” Tong said, turning to leave with a grin. “For your protection, of course.” 

The nosy guardsmen followed Tong out of the temple, and for once, U-Mos didn’t bother blessing his guests with the light of Aether.

Chapter Text

“This ship seems inappropriate for traveling through that kind of climate,” Adam said. The entire ride to ZDR, he’d been telling Samus that this was a bad idea. She ignored him. They were set to enter ZDR’s atmosphere within ten minutes. Samus pushed the brakes forward, dodging the orbiting rubble and dust cloud to get closer, faster. Adam had no sense of fear for his own life, despite being essentially a perfect virtual copy of the physical Malkovich, but he had no way of stopping her in the end.

“Entering ZDR’s atmosphere in ten, nine, eight…” It were as if Samus had highway hypnosis. She reached through the last of ZDR’s exospheric belt of tiny natural satellites, then sped down through the storm.

The air resistance fought with the ship’s thrusters, the viewport completely shrouded in a thick, violet fog. “WARNING: FLIGHT PATH UNSTABLE; VECTOR SHIFTING,” the ship’s alarm system blared. Samus shoved on the ignition, and it began to feel and sound as if bombs were going off everywhere around them. 

Finally, they penetrated the thicker clouds of the atmosphere, revealing a thrashing and rogue ocean. “FLIGHT PATH RESTORED; ATMOSPHERIC CONDITIONS STABLE.” 

“Approaching coordinate zone in T-minus thirty seconds,” Adam said. “Samus… do you remember the Chozo ever being split up into tribes?”

She hadn’t. For as long as she remembered, the Chozo existed as a unified species of pacifists working toward the common goal of universal enlightenment. At least, that’s how she remembered them, and how the galaxy remembered them. Perhaps she placed a bit too much faith in U-Mos… but he couldn’t have just sent her to die here.

There was a cold, stony landmass, shrouded in shadows, quickly approaching. The landing zone was next to a dimly lit cave with technological apparatus clearly inside. “Be careful out there, Lady,” Adam said. 

Samus climbed a short incline to the entrance of the cave, which came to a short tunnel with a hex door. She shot the door, entered a quiet, white elevator, and took the only option: down. The door closed behind her, and her descent began slowly, then picked up. The elevator had dim accented lights to penetrate the darkness, but her suit was still the brightest thing in the room.

Samus sat down, crossing her legs. Of all times to be summoned by the Chozo… or at least, who she’d been told were the Chozo. Had she become the person the Chozo sought to create? Was she still the hero the galaxy needed? Or was she simply a fugitive now?

The door opened, and golden light touched Samus’ armor. Before her was a classic display of Chozo taste: a wide wall covered in engraved murals. The Chozo were always the type to tell their stories through visual media, and the symbols used in this image were clear.

On the left, there were Federation starships making contact with Chozo worlds, opening up trade routes, colonizing, and growing capital on their lands. Next, Ridley and the Space Pirates arrived, took control of Mother Brain, and used Phazon and stolen Metroids to drive the Chozo out. Then, the Federation drove the Pirates out with the help of Samus, but the damage had already been done. Zebes was destroyed, Tallon IV was war-torn and later colonized, and SR-388’s ecosystems had been exterminated. Finally, on the right, the Chozo settled on ZDR, the only semi-habitable place far enough outside of everything to have a shot at escaping the never-ending bloodshed.

Samus’ breath shook. She removed her helmet, dropped to her knees, and tears ran down her face. What had she done?

The collective actions of the Federation and the Space Pirates led to the downfall of the Chozo who she called her family, who raised her to be a warrior who stood for truth and justice. Throughout her life she’d done her best to uphold those values. Was her best enough?

Perhaps she merely trusted the wrong people. She and the Chozo had both trusted the Galactic Federation. Even still, she had faith that the Federation would eventually come to understand her side, but faith is not the same thing as trust.

She’d done enough crying for one day. She put her helmet back on, took a long look at the mural, and saved it to her logbook as a noted entry:

The Chozo depict an event in which the Federation and Pirates took their lands over a long span of time and drove them to the harsh climate of ZDR as a last resort. I am also depicted in the mural, but only in the capacity that I’ve helped in driving the Pirates out in the Federation’s interests.

Samus passed through a doorway near the left side of the mural to find that an automated meteorological and astronomical observatory lay hidden behind it. The room was huge and dark, lit only by the information screens busily displaying actively-updating weather data and information on outer space and the orbiting asteroid field. 

There was something Samus kept note about this place: it had power. In places she explored prior, it was always either that she had to restore power to various systems or that they were already being operated by present powers. It was absolutely certain that there was something here.

Thick vines with huge leaves reached from the ceiling to the ground, the foliage covering something up in the corner of the room. She pushed the leaves aside, revealing a small tunnel. She morphed down and rolled through, slowly navigating what appeared to be a perfectly straight path until she felt a sudden drop-off. Just a the edge, something reached through and pulled her into a locked contraption.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t morph. She laid a single bomb, and the kinetic and electrical energy it released stimulated the locked contraption into action. Suddenly there was light, rotation, and BLAST!

Ball-Samus was sent barreling downward, zipping through the layers of the planet’s crust. She always loved when the Chozo left little Morph-Ball paths for her in the places they inhabited. They were almost like little roller coasters made specifically for her, to let her know she was going the right way. Everywhere she went, the Chozo guided her in some form. It was a reminder that their paths were intertwined as reciprocal guardians aiding one another’s aims beyond the veil of time.

The shaft opened up, landing Samus in a small room with soft lights. She stood up, approached a set of massive cyan double doors fashioned in Chozo likeness, and pushed them open. Before her was a huge dugout cave space with a bridge spanning a basin of water. At the other side of the bridge stood a monolithic black figure with a strange, parabolic headdress–apparently not Chozo.

Samus approached, raising her arm cannon. The figure turned, revealing itself under a cape, and Samus spotted a beak. While this being didn’t appear Chozo, it was heavily armored in their likeness. On its right hand lay a bulky arm cannon, much like her own. She stopped halfway across the bridge.

The figure turned away, returning to the monolithic apparition. Samus lowered her arm cannon. She looked back at the door, which she now noticed was decorated with an entire Chozo monument. On both sides of the bridge, statues of Chozo warriors held spears in their hands and stood proudly. She looked ahead, and decided to carry forward. She had no other choice but to progress. If this being truly were Chozo, this may be the most important day of her life.

Chapter Text

The armored, beaked apparition brought Samus on a short walk through a cave system decorated with glowing data terminals and jutting with metal infrastructure. They came to a dome-shaped map station with Chozo engravings etched from floor to ceiling. When the creature punched his arm cannon into a receptacle at the center of the room, the engravings lit up and four maps were projected onto each fourth of the wall. She scanned and logged each of the maps:

A map of Artaria, the laboratory I discovered upon taking the morph tunnel in the observatory.

A map depicting a collection of underground territorial installations divided into geologic sectors: Artaria, Cataris, Dairon, Burenia, Ferenia, Ghavoran, Elun, Hanubia.

A star chart with a legend labeling the positions and coordinates of key Chozo worlds: Tallon IV, SR-388, ZDR, Elysia.

A map revealing the positions and locations of each of the major Federation fleets and flagships: G.F.S. Olympus , G.F.S. Anubis , G.F.S. Tiamat, G.F.S. Yahweh.

“What is this?” Samus asked foolishly. “Who are you?”’

The creature slowly placed its hand over its face, grasped at its helmet, and opened and removed the metal plating. It pressed a few buttons on its arm cannon, then removed it piece by piece. With both hands, it lifted its helmet from its head.

In front of Samus stood a living Chozo, towering over her. It was the first time she’d seen one in over a decade, ever since the invasion of Zebes that started all of this. Samus removed her helmet as well, and the two met with gazes–both of them a soft and welcoming sight for the other’s sore eyes.

The Chozo bowed. “Samus Aran, I am Raven Beak of the Mawkin tribe.”

“I don’t understand,” Samus said. “The Chozo have never been split into tribes.”

Raven Beak huffed. “It has been many years. When the Great Poison struck Tallon IV, many chose to stay and make peace. They were killed when the Pirates came.”

“You came here from Tallon IV?”

“No… Zebes was still safe when the Pirates came to Tallon IV, but Mother Brain did not have enough room for us. We were treated as a strain on the planetary economy. When the Pirates came to Zebes, I spoke to Gray Voice. I told him not to trust the Pirates.”

“You spoke to Gray Voice?”

“Only once. I tried to warn Gray Voice of the Pirates, and Old Bird of the Federation. Neither listened. Do you know what became of the both of them?”

“Gray Voice laid down his life fighting Ridley. But..."

“Old Bird survived the Pirates’ invasion of Zebes, and even returned after you drove them out. I warned him that the Pirates would strike again, and that if we didn’t take the proper measures to defend ourselves in this belligerent galaxy, we would be driven out in only a matter of time. The damn fool trusted the Galactic Federation to keep him safe. I took the initiative to gather as many of our own as I could, and I established the Mawkin tribe on ZDR. We kept in contact for the following years, and Old Bird would call me overly paranoid. Then, you destroyed the Metroids on SR-388, the Pirates returned to Zebes, and contact was lost.”

Samus listened intently. Raven Beak gazed up at the star maps. “The Galactic Federation… even after you destroyed the Pirates and all their projects, they still build new warships and keep their soldiers on the worlds they’ve defended. And then, at the other end of responsibility, did you find it strange at all that the Great Poison had been a known threat on Tallon IV to the Chozo for years, and that you seemed to be the first to notice it after the Federation sent you on a practical suicide mission to the nearest neighboring planet?”

Samus thought carefully. “I have noticed that the Federation tends to let crises develop under their noses.”

“Crises are beneficial to the Federation,” Raven Beak said. “They open up opportunities for them to colonize and make deals with new worlds for protection and trade. Tell me, Samus, what is the difference between the evil that perpetrates and the evil that could easily prevent it from happening but chooses not to?”

“Nothing,” Samus said sheepishly. “But… what, then? War with the Federation?”

“I would prefer to avoid war,” Raven Beak said. “However, there will be demands made, and they will be backed by the threat of war.”

Samus looked at Raven Beak with a furrowed brow. “No. You can’t do that. The Chozo have never waged war. Every data entry I’ve read tells of a revered race of pacifists, scholars, spiritual leaders…”

“All civilizations have waged war,” Raven Beak said, cocking his head. “Tell me, Samus Aran, what do you truly know of Chozo history? Yes, you were raised by Chozo, but not as an emissary for our people. You are a weapon, Samus Aran. The most dangerous in the galaxy. What pacifist would create that, let alone something like the Metroids? Peace is not always the answer in this galaxy. You know that, and the Chozo have known that. We have avoided any kind of self-defense in favor of pacifist ideals for centuries, and now our species is on the brink of extinction.”

Samus took a deep breath. Raven beak placed his helmet back on his head, then turned towards her. “I will give you a choice, Samus Aran.” He pointed to the map of the various worlds: “Elysia will be the first of the worlds we plan to enter negotiations over. You can either be there to assist our efforts, or you can continue running and hiding from the Federation while I tear a future for the Chozo people from their jaws.”

Samus broke eye contact and took a full ten seconds to reckon with this ultimate new galactic paradigm. She shook her head, searching for some kind of third solution. “Does there have to be the threat of violence?”

“If there were not, our pleas would go unanswered, as they have. Elysia is far too rich in technological resources for them to leave alone, and has far too little intelligent life to oppose them.”

“Then… what would you have me do? What would I be to the Chozo?”

Raven Beak cocked his head dubiously at this question. “What would you be?” He thought for a moment. “Would you be anything different from what you have always been? You are a soldier for galactic peace.”

“But… this is it! We have galactic peace. You could just come out and enter negotiations with the Federation over Elysia today! With all due respect, this is an overreaction.”

As she spoke, Raven Beak’s gaze slowly shifted over to the map with their planets on it. His eyes fixated on the system Tallon IV and Zebes belonged to. “Stupid girl,” he said. “Stupid and naive. The Federation will destroy everything. Already they seek to take everything from you, and still you lick their boots.”

“The Pirates have been destroyed,” Samus argued. “The Federation have no reason to see you as a threat.”

“Simply by being Chozo, I pose an existential threat to their organization. They are human supremacists. Even Mother Brain knew this. The Chozo’s flourishing as a peaceful interstellar race threatened their profit-seeking, so they enacted policy decisions that, while not explicitly targeting us, included keeping us out of the territories the Pirates drove us out of. Humans have a particular order, a way of things which holds the health of entire worlds, whether economic or environmental, on a precarious line between negligence and abuse. Whichever path that suits their profiteering goals best is the path they will take, in order to please the demands of the Afloraltite companies that keep their interstellar supply chains running. There are those, Samus, who have the luxury of not having to look too deeply at these things, because this way of civilization provides for their needs and lifestyles. They are everywhere. If you care at all about galactic peace, Samus Aran, you can no longer be one of them.”

“There’s another way,” Samus said. She looked up at the Chozo. “I’ve freed all of these worlds from destruction before. I can free them from the Federation… but I won’t do it that way.” She pointed at the warships.

“Very well. I am open to suggestions.”

“What if you turned me in?” Samus asked, pacing around the room. “You could… use me as a bargaining chip. The Chozo get their worlds back, and the Federation gets their criminal.”

“No.”

“No?” Samus stopped pacing.

“No,” Raven Beak said sternly. “I am not willing to participate in upholding the Federation’s lies and corruption in exchange for a shaky promise to return land that they stole from our people. And secondly, Samus… you are not a criminal. You are a soldier, and more than that… you’re a hero.”

Raven Beak lowered to one knee, gently taking Samus’ hand in his. “We Chozo were united when we sent you to the Federation Police because we believed they stood for protecting the vulnerable. We know that is what you stand for. The galaxy is changing. Power has shifted, and the Federation is becoming something it was never supposed to. We cannot allow it to continue treating indigenous populations the way they have. Samus, will you help the Chozo secure a future for our species, our culture, our knowledge?”

The two shared eyes for a long moment. What was once only a one-way mirror into the past now presented itself in front of her, radically altering her entire view on the galaxy. The veil of time had been torn to shreds, and as a consequence, the galaxy would never be the same. Samus was forced to choose between loyalty to her species and the Federation she’d worked with her entire adult life, and the Chozo who saved, raised, and trained her to be the warrior she had become.

“I’ll need a new ship.”

Chapter Text

It had been a long time since the Federation had to deal with such a high-priority target. Usually for a threat of this magnitude they would simply hire Samus, and it would be taken care of in no more than a few days. How does one take care of Samus Aran?

As the days went on, the topic seemed less and less important to Commander Dane. He seemed more interested in investigating the inner city areas where connections to Samus might be made through illicit contacts. As a result, police crackdowns have been in effect in denser city areas, meaning more innocents whose everyday lives were disturbed by police activity and raids.

One such operation included watching Samus Aran’s most vocal advocate, AltMinister, watched by Federal marshals outside her private home. AltMinister had been keeping close tabs on the situation, releasing all sorts of videos exposing BSL’s dirty dealings and how they relate to the Galactic situation.

All the while, Admiral Tong was growing ever more jumpy and frustrated.

“We need to put pressure on the Luminoth!” He demanded, slamming a stack of papers onto the desk of Commander Dane, who looked up at him from his comfortable and highly expensive armchair, which was fashioned in the ancient Earth continent of Europe.

“I told you before, we can’t do that.”

“We can, Commander, and we must.”

“I don’t believe you’re the one who issues orders between the two of us.” Dane spared him no mercy in his authoritarian gaze.

“Commander… If I may confess something?”

“Go ahead.”

“I know you’re only doing it to protect her. I know the two of you have–”

Commander Dane stood from his armchair, promptly silencing the Admiral, then gestured at the chair and said with a stern tone, “Admiral, I invite you to have a seat.”

The Admiral followed the order.

“Now, let me make something clear, Admiral. I have not, will not, and do not pick and choose my operations based on personal affections or opinions. I do this to avoid a crisis in which the many non-human races we depend on begin turning against us.”

“With all due respect, Commander, it seems as though you’re willing to sacrifice the well-being of humans for political capital.”

“Welcome to the upper echelons, Admiral. Actions have consequences.” Dane sat and took the stack of papers in his hands, finding it to be a report of growing discontent and unfavorable opinions toward the government amongst those in the inner city areas.

“We’re losing people no matter what we do,” Tong said solemnly. “The Luminoth are the last race left that Samus had a profound positive contact with, and their status as a protected world gives Samus every reason to take advantage of them. For all we know, they could be protecting her in a bunker under the Agon desert.”

“I won’t have it done,” Dane said, setting the papers down.

The Admiral shook his head, defeated and frankly shocked that it didn’t seem his Commander had the capability to listen to him. Nonetheless, he accepted this, stood up, and turned to leave.

When Tong opened the door, one of his colonel advisors stood there waiting for him. “Admiral, we’ve established contact.”

“With the Luminoth?”

“With Samus Aran, Admiral.”

Admiral Tong felt vindicated watching his convoy land on Aether to finally confirm his suspicions. Of course, U-Mos had promised to return Samus on his terms, but he was still skeptical that they’d deliver on that promise in the end.

They’d landed outside the Temple of Agon, where deactivated Quads stood like statues. They reminded the Admiral of the shape of a kunai. As he descended from the ship, another Luminoth Sentinel approached, introduced himself as E-Nak, then guided him and his soldiers to the Fortress Temple.

The Admiral held no expectations when it came to whether U-Mos would deliver on his promises, so when they entered the energy controller room of the Fortress temple, Tong was starstruck. If he weren’t surrounded by his subordinate officers, his jaw would have visibly hit the floor. Not only were U-Mos and Samus there, but so was Raven Beak. Standing close to one another, the three turned toward the Admiral and his soldiers as they rushed into the temple and surrounded them.

“U-Mos, it’s good to see you again,” Admiral Tong said. “I’m glad to see you’ve come around. You spoke to the probe about negotiations. Will you be heading those?”

“I will,” Raven Beak said, slightly raising his hand. He didn’t wear the intimidating headdress, arm cannon, nor angular and sharp metal armor he’d introduced himself to Samus in. He looked hardly different from other Chozo the Federation were used to dealing with long ago, aside from wearing a large black cloak as opposed to decorated robes.

“Ah, of course,” Tong said. “It’s my honor to be in the presence of a live Chozo, and to get the chance to speak to one myself.”

Raven Beak didn’t seem interested in taking the compliment, offering no reaction at all. Tong gave Samus Aran a cursory glance, for her sharp yet calm gaze intimidated him. The Admiral spread his hands. “So, where can I sit?”

“This will be brief,” Raven Beak said, raising a hand. Tong nodded, hoping that would indeed be the case. Raven Beak continued, “You will return the lands you have stolen to their rightful holders. The Chozo have dwindled in number due to the negligence of the Federation in dealing with the Pirate threat as well as the Great Poison. You will withdraw your military presence from the planets of Elysia and Tallon IV, and you will abandon all projects surrounding SR-388. I also ask that you withdraw your forces from Bryyo and Urtraghus, but these are not primary conditions. You will allow the Chozo to live on and repopulate these worlds, and you will allow Samus Aran the freedom to protect our people however she deems necessary. In exchange, we will return your rogue AI to you, and Samus Aran may be barred from entering Federation territory. And finally, you will remove the space probes watching over Aether. These are our conditions.”

Admiral Tong stared at the Chozo for a long moment, then looked at Samus. “I see,” he said with disdain. He looked Raven Beak in the eye. “I don’t accept your conditions. Samus is a criminal charged with the destruction of a high-priority research lab against the orders of the Federation. She needs to be court-martialed, tried, and answer for her crimes. That is my one and only condition. Give us that, and we’ll leave your worlds alone. We have no reason to prevent the Chozo from populating wherever they please.”

Raven Beak shook his head. “Samus’ freedom is required for the protection of the Chozo people. We have relied for far too long on the Galactic Federation, and you have treated us with contempt and negligence. Do not pretend that it was the protection of the Galactic Federation that freed us from the Pirates and the Great Poison.”

“I don’t believe you understand. General Walgrent has ordered her arrest. If I fail to return to Federation HQ without her in my convoy, I and everyone under me will be court-martialed for treason.”

“Then I must bring these negotiations to General Walgrent. Until then, none of us have any reason speaking to you. I very seriously doubt the General would sign off on an order to kill a Luminoth on his own world, let alone a Chozo, simply to catch who they perceive as a criminal after a long record of saving the Galaxy, and more importantly in your case, the Federation itself. How many missions in your career have you been on that would have resulted in your death or termination if not for the actions of this woman?”

“I have you surrounded,” Tong said with a frown. “I don’t care if you’re Chozo, and I don’t need the order from the General.”

“Then you and everyone in this room will die, and your Federation will have war with Aether,” U-Mos said. “You do not have the capacity to cover this up. I have probes of my own, sending data streams to many corners of Federation territory. Your actions here are being watched much more closely than my world is.”

The Admiral’s heart rate quickened. What he said about not needing the order from the General could have been heard by anyone–even the General himself. His gaze began to falter. He knew he couldn't contact the General himself; he would have to rely on Dane, who he was no longer sure he could trust.

He looked at Samus, who only returned a cold stare. “You really have nothing to say here?”

Samus crossed her arms. When it came to protecting the Federation or the Chozo, her choice was clear. 

The Admiral scoffed. “Very well,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to consult the General, won’t I?”

Samus silently took a deep breath. Admiral Tong himself left the energy control room, but his soldiers remained. Samus looked around the room. Something was off. The air was still. When she looked, she could see the Federation troops looking at each other, seemingly unsure of something. She squinted.

“The Quads…” Samus muttered, then turned to U-Mos and yelled, “Activate the Quads!”

But before she could finish her sentence, one of the troops had already raised his gun and fired on U-Mos, who yelled in pain and collapsed. 

Raven Beak pushed the folds of his cloak aside, revealing his armor and arm cannon, then immediately raised it and began firing on the troops while shielding Samus behind his body. The troops’ rounds bounced off his armor, but he found himself shielding his own unprotected face with his arm cannon, as the spray of bullets had become overwhelming.

A Rezbit flew in from above as four hidden Quads at the corners of the room quickly activated, immediately firing deadly laser beams at the troops. The Rezbit gyrated in the air, collecting electromagnetic energy from the nearby controller before releasing it in a wave that completely shut down the troops’ armor suits’ systems, leaving them firing blindly in the air while getting picked off by the Luminoth’s strong defenses.

“Run!” U-Mos yelled through his pain as the door opened. An unfamiliar space vessel, apparently Luminoth in design, descended into the wide arena of the Agon temple. Samus and Raven Beak quickly broke for the ship, and Admiral Tong was nowhere to be seen. E-Nak, the temple’s sentinel, lay dead in the arena, bringing to Samus’ mind the horrors of the Ing war. What horrible fate had she just brought on the people of Aether? 

The vessel sped off into space as the Rezbit and Quads fired at the remaining troops in the temple.

Chapter Text

“Dear God… what have I done?!” Samus collapsed to her knees. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She had no idea what to make of the Federation, the Chozo, or the planet she may have just doomed to war. She grasped her hair, nearly pulling it out of her head before Raven Beak placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We knew this was a possibility, did we not?”

“I…” Samus stumbled over her racing thoughts. “Why–why did they do that?! The General wouldn’t have allowed that!”

“It doesn’t matter if General Walgrent signed off on a kill order. What matters is that it happened… and now, millions have footage of it.”

“Footage…?! Aether is doomed! We are doomed!”

“Not if we act quickly,” Raven Beak said. “The probes have caught us leaving the atmosphere. We can’t make it back to ZDR in this vessel. It’s time you acquired your new ship.”

They stopped at an unmarked space station: a simple little metal frame with a pair of hangars, sitting in the open in the middle of outer space. Sitting at the hangar was Samus’ new ship: decorated much like the classic Chozo style of her older ships she’d taken to places like Zebes, Tallon IV, and Aether, but much like her later joint missions with the Federation during the Phazon Crisis, it was outfitted with additional weaponry and an aerodynamic shape.

Samus entered her Power Suit and left the Luminoth vessel with Raven Beak, who’d also donned his headdressed helmet. Together, they approached the ship, and Samus beheld it with awe as the space station’s white lights gleamed off of the smooth surface.

“Does it suit your tastes?”

“It’s… traditional,” she said, then turned to him. “We can’t do this. We can’t.”

“We must.”

“I can’t.”

“Then go.”

Samus stood still. Raven Beak motioned toward her vessel. “Go,” he repeated. “If you cannot be the soldier I need, then I don’t want you in my ranks. Take the ship and go, but do not think of returning to ZDR or Federation territory.”

“Tong will be tried,” Samus said. “What he just did was…”

“Your fault,” Raven Beak said.

Samus’ eyes widened. “What?!”

“You screamed for the Quads to be activated, and on a hunch no less.”

“On a tell!”

“Do you think the Galaxy will see it that way? The Federation certainly will not. Those were the only words you spoke, and you said them as soon as the Admiral left the room.”

A swirling storm of rage gathered within her. “This is your fault!” She cried. “You know the truth!”

“And so do you!” Raven Beak matched her tone, even if he was talking about something else entirely. “Are you going to continue defending them, Samus? Are you turning against the Chozo?”

“What Chozo?! The only Chozo I’ve seen is you–and I trusted you!”

“Do you wish to meet the rest of us?”

Samus wanted to yell some more, but she faltered. “Why did you meet me alone, in the beginning?”

“The rest of us are hiding throughout ZDR. If you’ll take me there in your new vessel, I will introduce you to them.”

Samus’ thoughts were still racing, but she knew she needed to make a decision. The Federation probes certainly caught the direction they flew off in, and they hadn’t changed flight trajectory since. Raven Beak likely set it up this way so she wouldn’t have time to decide, and she knew that. Just like he intended to with the Federation, Raven Beak was making a proposition to Samus with the ultimate threat of trouble behind it. She’d made her choice.

Samus climbed into the ship, and the two quickly headed off to ZDR.

Just as Raven Beak predicted, the Federation council was presented with footage of Samus ordering an attack on Federation troops, then storming out of the Agon Temple. At the center of the congressional floor stood General Fetna Walgrent, delivering what he called a surprise attack at the hands of the Luminoth, the Chozo, and Samus Aran on Federation troops.

Among the crowd of congresspeople and Federation council members stood Commander Castor Dane, concealing his anxiety as the General advocated for an emergency declaration of martial law over Agon. When he saw the footage, he couldn’t deny it–Samus did appear to order the Quad attack.

He looked over to Admiral Tong, who stood just five feet away, looking impressed with himself. Commander Dane realized that he wouldn’t be able to avoid this any longer. The hunt for Samus Aran was alive and well.

Chapter Text

“Samus Aran, I am Quiet Robe. Welcome back to Artaria.” Samus has strong enough critical thought that, just because there was more than one Chozo in her presence, it didn’t necessarily mean that they were doing the right thing by following through with Raven Beak’s plan. War with the Federation was an unacceptable outcome, no matter how any of them sliced it. To Samus, war with the Federation meant death for all.

Quiet Robe, a Chozo man somewhat shorter than Raven Beak and humbler in stature, had convened with them in the same map station Raven Beak had shown Samus before, but the maps themselves had been deactivated. The smaller Chozo bowed in her presence, but she didn’t feel even slightly at ease.

“Where are the rest of you?” Samus asked.

“Scattered across the planet, my dear. There is an entire underworld above our heads, and we are at the very bottom of the pit.”

“...The command center,” Samus said with judgment. Raven Beak crossed his arms.

“Please, come with me,” Quiet Robe motioned them over to a door, which opened to the Greater Artaria Networks: a massive cave complex decorated with delicate formations of machinery, piping, and wiring. Holographic displays popped up left and right, everywhere they could be found.

Quiet Robe talked as they walked: “There was a very long mission you went on almost a decade ago which had you securing for the Federation what they deemed an ‘ultimate power’ from the hands of several other competing species.”

“The Omega Beam, from the Alimbic Cluster,” Samus squinted. “Why are we talking about this?”

“We have it,” Quiet Robe said.

“You have the Omega Beam? How?”

“The Chozo are not the only beings fighting against the Federation and the extinctions it brings, whether purposefully or not. Did you know that your actions in the Alimbic Cluster resulted in the total extinction of the Diamant race?”

“And the preservation of countless others in the Tetra Galaxy. Yes, I knew that. Spire was delusional, just like the rest of them.”

“Is it delusional to follow whatever path you possibly can to ensure your civilization’s survival?”

Samus thought hard. “No, I guess not. If you can’t think of or find any other way… but, all of those other hunters had been misled in the end. The ultimate power was never real. Gorea just wanted to lure us all there with the Octoliths. What point do you think you’re making?”

“The point we make is that the Federation’s decision to send you was out of fear. What do you think would have happened if such an ultimate power truly existed, and the Federation got their hands on it?”

Samus thought hard. “Well… We would have averted a lot of crises.”

“No, Samus,” Raven Beak nearly growled in his tone. “Have you learned nothing?”

“I know–you said the Federation uses crises to their benefit, and that’s true," Samus conceded.

“Did you know that the Federation developed weapons out of the Great Poison and supplied them to their troops?" Quiet Robe asked.

“Yes,” Samus said, clearly growing annoyed. “I was one of them. That’s how I saved Elysia. Do you have any other burning questions, Quiet Robe, or am I just here to–”

Samus froze. Then, she raised her arm cannon at Raven Beak. Quiet Robe ducked away. Raven Beak cocked his head, intrigued.

“You’re both stalling. Trying whatever you can to crack at me. There are no other Chozo here, are there? You brought me here because you thought you’d be able to kill me if I say no, and I’d disappear to a place the Federation doesn’t know about.”

“I gave you an opportunity to leave earlier,” Raven Beak said.

“Samus, I assure you–!” Quiet Robe flinched as Samus shifted her aim toward him. “Enough from you! No more games. No more tricks. No more questions. You’re going to call the rest of the Chozo leadership on ZDR into a meeting, right in the map room.”

“Do as she says,” Raven Beak ordered. Quiet Robe nodded, and the three slowly made their way through the caverns in silence.

Admiral Tong had evaded punishment for claiming the right to undermine his general by a hair’s length, but now the final step of his operation was ready. Intelligence from the probes on Aether displayed a Luminoth ship taking off from the Agon temple, and when cloaked Federation ships tailed the vessel, they were quickly able to catch up to it.

The Admiral watched from the feed of a tiny probe, concealed by the darkness of space, as Samus and Raven Beak boarded their ship, and as the pursuing Federal forces tracked them to the planet ZDR.

The Admiral knew where Samus Aran was, and now he knew what her base of operations looked like. The harsh winds and climate displayed on the hologram reminded him of stories Commander Dane would tell him about the hostile Pirate homeworld of Urtraghus, only gloomier and more insipid. Satisfied, he called in his first lieutenant. “Send them,” he ordered, then returned to staring at the holographic display.

Ten minutes later, eight capsules about the size and shape of coffee tables and varying in color were launched from a cloaked Federation dropship directly into the orbital path of ZDR.

Samus, Raven Beak, and Quiet Robe waited in the Artaria map station. “They’ve collected in Ferenia, and are making their way down to Dairon. We should expect them in no less than ten hours’ time.”

“Ten hours I can wait,” Samus said.

An alert came up on a holographic device on Quiet Robe’s wrist. He looked down, distressed, then turned to the others. “There’s something entering the atmosphere.”

Raven Beak’s posture straightened. “What is it?”

“Eight different objects… none of them very large. Impact in ten seconds.”

Samus put all her grievances away for a moment, focusing on the matter at hand. The objects impacted, and the subterranean monitoring system reported tunnels being dug into every sector of the planet.

“They… they’re digging faster than our automated systems can defend from,” Quiet Robe said with worry. 

“What’s going on?” Samus asked, worried.

“I cannot tell…”

The three watched, waiting as the objects entered Ferenia. Quiet Robe traded messages with the members of the leadership, who hadn’t noticed anything wrong. Then, several minutes later, there was no response–from any of them.

Raven Beak raised his arm cannon at Samus.

She returned the favor. 

“You! What have you done?!” Raven Beak cried. “What have you brought here?!”

“Me?!” Samus yelled. “How do I know this isn’t some trick?! I come here demanding to see the Chozo, and conveniently some dramatic event happens where they all disappear? You didn’t even bother to hit the call button.”

“There is no call button!” Quiet Robe pleaded. “Our systems are not built for that type of open-faced communication! Please, both of you!”

“Quiet!” Raven Beak said. “Tell us the truth, Samus Aran. Are you a warrior for the Chozo?”

“Tell me the truth–what Chozo truly are there?!”

“You’ve just killed them all!” Quiet Robe said.

“I said, quiet!” Raven Beak briefly pointed his arm cannon toward Quiet Robe, and in this split-second, Samus’ cannon folded back and fired a missile at the armored, caped monolith. The missile landed directly in Raven Beak’s face, knocking him backward in the explosion. Quiet Robe ducked and ran.

As the smoke cleared, Samus shifted her cannon back to the Power Beam, held an idle charged shot at the barrel, and slowly stepped forward. “Tell me the truth!”

Raven Beak zipped towards her with an electrical red aura, grabbed her by the helmet, and threw her out of the map station. Samus’ charged shot, which she’d blindly fired at the moment of the grab, destroyed the map display. Raven Beak picked Samus up, threw her, punched and kicked her all the way back to the entrance to Artaria with the bridge, the Chozo statues, and the morph tunnel.

Having had enough of being thrown around, Samus wrestled herself free of Raven Beak’s grasp by morphing down faster than he could grab her. Samus rolled around his feet, prompting him to turn and fire rapidly at the ground. After a series of sporadic turns, the ball had disappeared from his sight. He heard a beeping noise. He looked down, saw a black circle with a blinking red dot, and shielded his face.

A sea of blinding white light, brighter than Raven Beak had ever seen, consumed everything in sight as hellfire and ionizing radiation blasted every inch of the cave’s walls. For five straight seconds, pure energy was released in the form of a nuclear fireball.

After the flash, there was only darkness. Samus emerged from behind a small rock formation, sorely wishing she still had one of her many visor upgrades from the Phazon Crisis to see in the dark. With the glowing accents of her armor, she was a sitting duck, disadvantaged.

She raised her arm cannon at the sight of two red-glowing eyes. She fired several rounds, but each of them were dodged. Finally, she felt Raven Beak’s hand wrap around her neck, locking into a death grip. In that moment, Samus felt a physical constriction, but also something more than that. She felt something was leaving her body, and at the same time, her suit began malfunctioning.

Her arm cannon would not fire. She couldn’t get into a favorable position to morph down. She kicked at Raven Beak, and banged on his arm, but nothing worked. One by one, her powersuit’s user interface logged the removal of each of its upgrades. Samus widened her eyes–this had been done to her before in a variety of ways, but never like this.

Ice Beam uninstalled.

Screw Attack uninstalled.

Wave Beam uninstalled.

Diffusion Missiles uninstalled.

“Idiot human,” Raven Beak growled. “You could have become the greatest hero in history. You could have become a true protector of the vulnerable. But you’re a worm, no better than the imperialistic Federation dogs who make decisions for billions, whether for their good or not.”

The colors on Samus’ suit shifted from violets and blues to oranges and reds.

Gravity Suit uninstalled.

Space Jump uninstalled.

“No!” Samus screamed, smacking with all her force at Raven Beak’s arm. Then it was the Power Bomb, Wide Beam, and Ice Missiles.

From oranges and reds to pale blues and whites. Varia Suit uninstalled. “God damn you!”

Then it was the Super Missiles, Morph Ball Bomb, Charge Beam, and Morph Ball. The last things Samus had in her arsenal were her basic Power Beam and Missile launcher, and with those two upgrades left, Samus was suddenly dropped to the floor as Raven Beak cried out and thrashed around. Samus quickly crawled away, climbed to her feet, and took aim.

It was difficult to see in the dark, and Samus couldn’t produce an idle charge to light the room, so she fired aimlessly. In the muzzle flashes of her arm cannon and the light produced by each Power Beam projectile in flight, Samus could see Raven Beak violently wrestling with something gray, metallic, and robotic in nature. The Power Beam had no effect on either of them, ricocheting into the walls of the cave.

Raven Beak threw the scurrying mechanoid to the ground, and its mechanical limbs and joints twisted and contorted in unsettling ways to quickly push itself away from him. It crawled up the walls of the cave, Samus and Raven Beak both firing their cannons at it. Samus shattered a chunk out of the wall in the robot’s path with a missile, and it came tumbling back down onto the ground.

Raven Beak raised his arm cannon and fired thousands of small, blindingly bright blue projectiles in a heavy bombardment. Caught in the stream, the robot was knocked backward by each impact, which after a sustained period, began to melt its gray metal plating.

Suddenly, the creature gained a grip and pulled itself out of the stream of bullets, turning and galloping down the hall toward the map station. Having seemingly forgotten about Samus, Raven Beak chased the metal apparition into the darkness.

Samus promptly followed after them, but by the time she made it into the well-lit entrances of the Greater Artaria Networks, they were lost. When she returned to the darkened, destroyed cave, the only exit–that which she’d entered via morphball and earlier exited with Raven Beak through, had been completely destroyed. The Chozo statues around her crumbled.

Samus was alone, at the very bottom of the depths of ZDR, with no one to help her and her suit’s upgrades nearly placed back at square one. Raven Beak was no longer an ally, and if he truly were in league with the Chozo… neither were they.

Now, Samus Aran didn’t have a single ally in the galaxy.