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HEY, KIDDO.
The Operator does not jump. No, instead their body tenses briefly, a spring coiling, before they register the threat as not currently physical and the spring loses some of its tension but not all.
They turn around to find the Indifference perched on one of their consoles. It has taken on their appearance but with lanky limbs, a too-wide smile that hasn't bared teeth yet. Its appearance always mimics theirs yet borders on the edge of surreal, matching the Operator's human body yet permeated with a sense of wrong upon looking at it.
Uncanny valley, the Lotus had told them when they'd asked. They couldn't remember lots of little terms like that. Their world had simply stopped for several years and then restarted again while everyone else had kept going, and the Operator has been doomed to a game of catch-up since being awoken.
"What do you want?" they ask, sparing the Indifference no more than an irritated glance before turning back to their Mod console.
The Indifference is sitting on the Foundry behind them, part of its body clipping through the gun being printed on it. The Operator doesn't ask.
NOTHING MUCH. JUST WANTED TO SEE HOW MY FAVORITE INVESTMENT IS DOING!
Investment. The Indifference's choice of words for them is strange, and its behavior even stranger. The Operator has had lots of time to think on it, to consider the threat to their world, its quirks and idiosyncrasies and, even through the deal made, its obsession with the Operator and their other self specifically.
And Albrecht Entrati. The Indifference hates that man with a vitriol the Operator understands yet doesn't have context for, but something happened there. Their Drifter-half is off saving that timeline, but it doesn't mean the Operator has to be completely in the dark.
They exit the Mod console and spin around to face the Indifference. Fueled by the fact it had never outright tried to hurt them in all their years together, they say bluntly, "How'd you lose your finger?"
The Indifference blinks Void-dark eyes in the Operator's own face. Their face contorts into some sort of expression, or maybe several expressions at once. The corners of the smile the Indifference wears clip through its cheeks as if there just isn't a mold created for the expression the Indifference is attempting to make, twisting, the object collision causing several strange lines to spray out and screw up the texture before… it all smooths over.
Back to that wide, wide smile.
NOTHING YOU NEED TO WORRY ABOUT.
Even if the Indifference is speaking casually, through a human body, the Operator can feel its echo in their head, the way a drumbeat resonates through their chest. And through that beat, the Operator can read the briefest flickers of emotion.
Rage is most common. Despair is second. The Operator is, again, reminded of Rell, those days spent chasing taunting shadows of a broken, wronged child through darkened ships, before something else breaks through the anger.
Hurt.
Not physical hurt- though there is that, this one is closer to betrayal but not. Not a betrayal because nothing was ever promised; a betrayal because something kindly offered was painfully refused.
"I know however you lost it, it hurt you," the Operator presses. They aren't entirely sure why they want to know so badly.
LOSING LIMBS HURTS, KIDDO. WANNA FIND OUT HOW MUCH?
There's no threat to the words. It's mostly teasing, all the threat of asking to play a game with the Operator, though there is a hint of danger in there. The Indifference has never directly prevented the Operator from fighting back and hurt them. Goaded them into violence, yes. Manipulated them, definitely. Put them into rough situations, absolutely.
But the Operator is fairly confident that they are a particularly fascinating toy to the Indifference, and that it understands breaking its toys isn't fun for anyone.
"Not really," they answer casually. "I don't mean physical hurt. It's emotional hurt. Inside, you thought they wouldn't do that to you."
The Indifference freezes from where its fingers had been messing with the polygon model of the gun trigger as it's actively printing. One fingertip twitches against the trigger, and the gun is only partially materialized but the Operator doesn't doubt that somehow the Indifference could pick it up and shoot if it wanted to.
The Indifference's gaze swallows all light as it turns to the Operator.
HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT.
They shrug, flicking open the Mod console again to start transmuting duplicates. Turning their back to the Indifference. "You put part of yourself inside me," they remark. "The Void isn't something that is just completely cut off from itself, is it?"
A brief pause, before they add pointedly, "Unless you severed another one of your own limbs."
NO. NO I DID NOT.
It's quick, sharp. The Operator does not smile, barely even feels amusement, and doesn't feel much alarm at the steadily rising tension in the air.
A mod they'd been searching for pops out from transmutation and they swipe it into their inventory with a satisfied note made to themself. "The point is, I can feel some things you do, if they're strong enough. That hurt you deeply, and more than just physically."
I CAN FEEL YOUR RAGE.
It's said like a gotcha, trying to distract, to one-up on the Operator. They don't react - they can feel their rage too, all the time, thrumming like a second pulse underneath their skin.
I CAN FEEL YOUR DESPAIR. YOU WANT TO KILL THEM.
They want to kill so, so many people. Most of them are already dead. Some are not. Some are dead and the Operator wants to bring them back to life just to kill them again.
"You'll need to be specific," they remark dryly. They're out of Endo - they make a note, swipe the Mod console closed, and spin around to the Relic console.
The Indifference huffs, pushing off of the Foundry and plucking the half-formed gun from it. Strands of material pull from the machine like cheese out of a pastry before it cuts off with a sharp glare from the Indifference.
It spins the gun around one finger, dangerously close to the trigger and black-hole gaze focused intensely on the Operator.
I CAN FEEL YOUR PRIDE. TOO MUCH PRIDE, KIDDO. THAT GETS PEOPLE KILLED.
"Hubris," the Operator names.
HUBRIS, the Indifference repeats.
"Did you not know that one?" They glance sidelong at the Indifference, heedless of the event horizon that is staring them down.
Their warped face blinks back at them, once. It huffs shortly and turns away, looking down at the gun.
I KNEW THAT ONE. The Operator is pretty sure it did not know that one.
They search up Khora relics and start tapping through them all. "So we can feel each other's emotions. So what?"
I DON'T FEEL, KIDDO.
"Then what am I feeling from you?"
YOU'RE PROJECTING. I'M THE INDIFFERENCE FOR A REASON. I'M INDIFFERENT. It crosses its arms petulantly out of the corner of the Operator's eye like a sulking child, the gun still dangling from one finger.
"Hm." The Operator drops it and turns to the so-called Indifference, leaving the Relic console illuminated next to them, idle. "You never answered my question."
WHAT IS THAT?
It knows damn well what question. "How you lost your finger."
It raises an eyebrow at them. YOU SEEM TO HAVE THAT ALL FIGURED OUT, it mocks sarcastically.
"You know I don't. All I said was that it hurt you. That's not an answer, or a story."
WHY DOES IT MATTER?
Its shoulders have tensed, the sulky posture shifting to something more defensive. It doesn't seem to have noticed, that intensity in Void-black eyes flaring again, hanging tangible in the air, weighing it down.
The Operator doesn't flinch, shrugging. "I'm just curious. The Drifter doesn't have weekly tea with me to discuss new developments in their timeline."
YOU DON'T LIKE BEING KEPT IN THE DARK.
They turn back to the Relic console. "No. I don't."
The Indifference takes a breath, that wide smile of theirs vanished for a more neutral approximation of the Operator's face. It still twitches incessantly, eyes and lips curving upwards or downwards or some impossible direction that makes the whole thing glitch before smoothing back out, but it isn't stuck in that overly-stretched grin anymore.
It drops its arms, flipping the gun up in the air and catching it.
ENTRATI CUT IT OFF. ALBRECHT ENTRATI.
That name echoes through the Operator with tendrils of hate trailing behind it, wrapped around every syllable, thrumming through every bit of time and space the Indifference can stick its hands into. It washes over the Operator like a flood, drowning all other emotion out, burying them deep beneath the wave.
They take a breath through it, separating it from their own anger. Memories of killing flash through their mind, held in a Warframe stronger and faster than themself, wielding the long, graceful Skiajati sword and dancing through hundreds of walking corpses. THAT'S THE SPIRIT, KIDDO. LIMB… FROM… LIMB. The Indifference, Excalibur, and the Operator all hum in harmony among the blood, each satisfied with it in their own way.
The Operator carefully separates their rage and the Indifference's, holds both, and dismisses them along with the memories. They tap open another relic, taking a slow, measured breath.
They wait for the Indifference to continue and it does, after several long moments.
I TRIED TO… CONNECT. WITH HIM. It sounds as if the words are being pulled from it, flat and monotone. The gun clicks loudly in the space as it flips it up and catches it again.
HE REFUSED.
The Operator hums. Of course, in any other situation they could very easily doubt the Indifference's definition of connection. It doesn't exactly know how to be kind, after all, and the Operator knows that firsthand.
But this isn't any normal situation. The Indifference has its gaze fixed on the gun as it flips up and back into its hand, over and over again as if in a trance. Every bit of its body language suggests that of a cornered animal, poised to strike if said trance is broken.
Not even mentioning the fact the Indifference never stuck around this long in their ship, this is a rare moment of what the Operator thinks passes for sincerity for the being. A sort of warped, dangerous sincerity, but sincerity nonetheless.
"I see." The Indifference doesn't react to their words. The Operator watches it for a few more seconds, then turns back to the Relic console.
"That's why you're hunting him."
THAT'S RIGHT, KIDDO. That painful smile stretches over its face again, mocking back in their tone, catching the gun and turning the grin onto the Operator.
"Is that all?" the Operator asks, glancing at the Indifference. They doubt it. It's painful, but that amount of anger from simply losing a limb…
IT'S REASONABLE, the Indifference answers their thoughts. That makes them startle more than the Indifference showing up earlier, and they flick a glare at the being. LOSING A LIMB HURTS, it repeats, its stare intense on the Operator.
"It isn't. Reasonable, that is," they respond. "Not that amount of anger."
AND YOU WOULD KNOW ALL ABOUT IT, it mocks sharply. The grin's edges stretch wider, tapering to knife-point, which isn't actually possible on a human-ish face and so ends up poking out of the skin and turning the cheeks into polygonal, badly-rendered angles. VOID-DEVIL. YOU KNOW MORE ABOUT MURDER THAN YOU DO ABOUT RAGE.
"I know about both. Maybe more than anything else." Their tone is sharpened as well, though more akin to a monster lurking beneath a lake than a blade held to a throat. "You know that as well as I do."
YOUR FRIEND WAS KILLED AND YOU BLEW UP A BUILDING. YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT ANGER IS REASONABLE.
"What I really can't tell you better than you know yourself is manipulation," they snap back. They close the Relic menu and turn to the Indifference, holding its gaze, staring straight into the event horizon of its eyes. "My friend was not only killed, we were both used. A valuable peace treaty was broken to start a war that destroyed entire races just because of one man's greed."
They break eye contact, turning back to the console and swiping it open in a sharp flick, voice dropping. "You were there for all of it. Quit cherrypicking."
A beat of silence. THERE YOU GO, it taunts them, resonating delight at their anger curling through the Operator's chest like a satisfied cat. They grit their teeth and say nothing. SO REASONABLE.
Back to flipping the gun. The Operator has the sudden urge to rip it from its hands and then tear the thin, half-printed material to shreds.
They don't, and the Indifference catches it with a click. YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT'S REASONABLE WHEN YOU'VE NEVER EXPERIENCED IT.
There's a new note in its voice, the one it gets when it has an idea. Usually those ideas end in the Operator suffering in some way.
They flick a glance up to the Indifference, finding it staring intensely at them. Their hand slows on the console, stops, and they turn to the being as it flips the gun up.
LOSING A LIMB HURTS, KIDDO. It catches it in one hand, shifts its posture, raises and aims the half-formed muzzle, the hollow shape of it at their leg. WANNA FIND OUT HOW MUCH?
Click. The Operator tugs on that strand of consciousness ever-present in their brain, a second heartbeat, drawing themself into it like a cloak. A crack, something stings in their leg, and then their body dissolves and they experience the wonderful sensation of their consciousness being folded like a pancake before stretched back out in a new place.
The Warframe they had last been using was Voruna, left in their personal quarters. All frame blueprints are, by now, a diluted version of what they had been, but there is still a semblance of sentience within them and that sentience flickers to life with a vaguely questioning tone. Voruna reads the Operator's adrenaline, the stress that had been in the Transference, and curiosity thrums through the link, faint and distant.
The bond is nothing like it had been on Tau, like the Operator and their Warframe were two halves of one being, but the Operator still finds comfort in the half-consciousness of the current frames.
They take a breath, sending back calm, and feel Voruna still beneath them. Her consciousness fades into the background again, and the Operator stands there for several moments.
The Orbiter is silent. They weigh their choices, the look in the Indifference's eyes and its tone of voice, and transfer out of Voruna once again.
Their leg stings. They look down and find a rip in their pants; through it, a gash slices into their skin, bleeding in a steady stream. It stains the fabric around it, slowly growing as it continues.
But it isn't urgent. They walk out of their personal quarters, up the ramp and back to the Relic console.
The Indifference is gone. In its place is the half-printed gun laying on the ground, a bullet dent in the Operator's interior wall, and both bullet and casing strewn across the floor.
They pick up the bullet and the casing. Both are formed from what the Operator had come to call Void-metal, warped and that dark blue-green shade swirling with silvery-white curls. They're both also still warm somehow, and the Operator slips them into their pocket.
Next, they pick up the gun. It hasn't formed its other half from Void-metal, so whatever the Indifference did vanished at the same time it did. Instead, the Operator holds half of a hollow shell of a gun. The muzzle ends in dangling strings of material and sharp, unfinished edges. These do have Void-metal on them as well as the trigger, swirling among the material before fading out again.
The gun is unusable now. The Operator can't stick it back in the Foundry like this, and not even the internal mechanisms had finished printing. It's a shame given the materials they used to print it, but it wasn't a Prime or a rare weapon. Just a market blueprint, and not even a second-tier one at that.
They half expect to be mocked. They stand in the silence, holding half of a gun touched by the Void, and wait for the Indifference's taunts.
Nothing. The Operator can't tell if they're disappointed or not.
They sigh, returning to their personal quarters to store the gun, bullet, and casing in a separate drawer, and it's only then they realize that both the Lotus and Ordis had been gone the entire interaction when Ordis pops into their doorway and says, distressed, "Operator! You're hurt!"
"Yes, Ordis. It's fine. Just get me medical care?"
"Of course, Operator!"