Chapter Text
Deep inside a bunker under the mountainous range that hugged the Devil’s Grief was where Ed found the first hologram of the curious man. The city was old, the buildings overwhelmed with the expanse of ivy and trees, a crumbled fossil of where the Old Ones once thrived. Ed was familiar with its history as these ruins were the first that he explored since obtaining his Focus. The silver triangular device with a vertical line of blue light revealed more history of the world than any High Matriarch could possibly show, and Ed never took it off once it stuck on his lower temple like it belonged there. He took cover underground, away from the rain as it pelted down and out of sight from the hoards of deranged Machines haunting the land like ghosts to a kingdom’s graveyard.
Ed delved deeper into the man-made abyss. He stood within a familiar sphere of purple-lined isosceles as he tapped his Focus on. A baby blue ring of light swirled above his ear with its high-pitched whir. The device scanned the area thoroughly for metal scraps, shards, and any Old World relics that would sell a hefty boon to collecting merchants. The Nora tribe who lived among these lands declared the ruins—such as the Devil’s Grief—tainted from the Metal Devil, his Machines, and the Old Ones who followed him. It was forbidden for anyone to enter these lands, a perfect place with plenty of weapon crafting material, and potential shard currency.
A recording device box, highlighted in orange from Ed’s Focus, sat in a corner. A hazel light blinking wistfully within the darkness of the crypt, lonely and forgotten. Ed was always fond of discovering a piece of the Old World, analyzing stories of people from the past, nothing like the religion the Nora Matriarchs taught. The Old Ones never mentioned the All-Mother Goddess or the Metal Devil, but instead talked about their lives in wondrous snippets like puzzle pieces scattered throughout the land. People in these recorded holograms laughed, cried, danced, complained, mourned those who died, and celebrated those who lived. What their life was before their era was obliterated by the Faro Swarm, their biographies centuries buried for travelers like Ed to devour as if they were made specifically for him.
He scanned the device, and a blue screen appeared in front of it; a list of files to be selected at the touch of his fingers. Ed tapped on the first one, and the screen disappeared, a whirlpool of blue and purple light dancing in front of him and taking the shape of a man. He was just a couple of inches shorter than Ed with soft blond curls resting on his forehead and his colors dulled from the holographic blue hue. His face looked soft—he looked kind. His smile was a gentle sunrise, his nose curved, and he lived long enough for delicate wrinkles to have formed around his eyes. The holo glitched at first, temporarily disfiguring his body, before finally starting, his smile worrying to Ed.
“Hello, I guess. Uhm, I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing here.” The man huffed a laugh and pushed a hand through his hair, “It is a huge privilege to be here and work on the project, sure. I only hope I am adequate. Gosh, why would they hire me in the first place if I wasn’t? Let’s just hope they did not make a mistake adding me to the team.” His broad shoulders rose as he paced a circle around Ed, and his smile disappeared.
“I am sure they were lucky to have you,” Ed assured, his head swiveling around to follow the man’s gait. He did this sometimes when he watched recordings; talking to them as if they were listening. It felt wrong to watch the holos and say nothing in return—as if that would keep their voices unheard.
“What if I am useless? Project Apollo is supposed to teach the new generation of people after the Swarm. What if this work here is all for naught? Oh god, listen to me ramble again.” He stopped and his body turned toward Ed. The recording played the man’s few moments of silence in its soft, cold light, his eyes twitching and his finger resting on his chin as if in deep thought. Whatever he was thinking about, the holo caught a hopeful glint in his eye, a hope that piqued Ed’s attention as the man’s smile returned.
“It’s going to be fine. We are going to figure this out. What’s that quote again?... ‘We’re doing these things—not because they are easy, but because they are hard’, right?” It was like he was looking directly at Ed, his smile contagious. The man straightened himself, “I am adequate. Apollo will work, I am sure of it,” he said before the recording stopped and left Ed in the lifeless dark.
There was nothing informative or helpful to Ed in that recording. There was no information about the Machines he could use, or any historical information besides that the man used to work on Apollo. As far as Ed knew—before humans were re-populated on Earth after The Faro Swarm— that specific subordinate function had all the information of the Old Ones, but it was lost before the humans could use it—only to be found to be deleted centuries later by an explorer named Aloy. Yet, he downloaded the recording to his Focus. Something about the curious man sparked interest within Ed, how he clearly doubted himself and pushed through it with a naïve smile, a hopeful energy following him more brightly than any hologram Ed had ever found in this bountiful wasteland.
Ed scanned the recording device again, and his eyes perked when he found another file. He opened it, and the blue and purple shades of the man took form again.
“Unfortunately, the glitch is unstoppable.” The man was sitting on a holographic chair, eyes shifting from darkness to light, “But Project Gaia is underway and running smoothly. This AI is genius! It will restore the Earth and the human race after the destruction. There is hope for humanity, and I am so grateful to be a part of it.”
He leaned back in his chair, facing Ed’s direction and spoke again, “I wonder how humans will get on. How different or similar they may be to people now. God, I wish I could time travel to see it.” His eyes darted around with a wondrous smile on his face, “With Apollo to teach them, they will probably be better than us. Maybe they will be the first people in their era to avoid all war and make Earth their utopia!”
Oh how wrong this man was, Ed thought. There was always war, either with Machines or between tribes. Civilization may have been different in this holo’s time, but men continued going at each other’s throats as if it was coded into their genes. While the tribes of the world claimed to want peace, they always seemed to want something else more. Ed preferred the life of a bandit because of this, refusing to take sides wherever war took place. A selfish act, but he was not the kind of man to follow any rules. He was Blackbeard, a vicious bandit, and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
“Or maybe not I guess. Even with all of the history that will be provided, people will be people.” The holo shrugged, “I wish most, if not all of these recordings survive this. I know I am not that important, not like Elizabet who started this Gaia project, but maybe someone would be comforted that all different types of people worked on this and be reassured of the good things of humanity. How passionate we have always been, how outlandish, how silly.” He giggled to himself, “Or queer, even. Did you know that I am almost fifty and learned recently I prefer men over women? I think I would have found out sooner if I was around the right people growing up.” He sighed and scratched his head, “How sad is that? To finally figure out something about yourself, only after the end of the world was announced. Too late to find love now.” His smile faltered and his eyes lowered, “Maybe in another life—if things like that exist.” He stood up, “But, to whoever you are, if your time does not have a set deadline, you will figure it out. Whatever it is you may be going through… you are not alone.” His smile was like a hand on Ed’s shoulder, warm and comforting. The holo cut out, and Ed was left in the dark again.
Ed reached up to his face to find his cheek was damp. Fuck, he did not expect to cry. He was used to holos telling their sad stories to the void, but this man—he was so full of hope—his words were soft-spoken and caring as if he was there to reassure Ed, to comfort him through his struggles of living on his own and the loneliness that followed. Fuck, Ed did not realize until now just how lonely he was. When did that start? Ed was fierce, a genius, he did not need anybody in his life. No one would be able to keep up with his mind and lifestyle. Yet here was this man who lived thousands of years ago, telling Ed that he was not the only one feeling like this, not the only one with this emptiness in his chest.
“Who are you?” Ed asked the darkness as he saved the recently played recording. He opened the recording device’s screen again to view the other files, but the rest of the recordings were corrupted as they glitched, unable to keep their shape next to the intact folders. This made him smirk, he was efficient with decoding. It was probably one of the only things able to keep him in one place for a long period of time.
The rain thundered against the roof of the bunker, a promise of a long treacherous night. Ed pulled out a rolled blanket tied to his waist and placed it down. He picked up the recording device, the metal box dusty and cold to the touch undamaged many years of holding information.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” he said to the box, “This will give us plenty of time to get to know each other.”
Just as Ed thought it was not that complicated to unscramble the corrupted codes. It was a matter of following a pattern and recognizing where the numbers stopped, continued, and disarranged, like a puzzle forced to fit in a place it didn’t belong. Good thing he started a fire to keep his hands warm as he poked around the holographic screen because finding the right column where the pieces belonged was tedious as fuck.
It must have taken about an hour until the next corrupted file was clean and ready to be activated. Ed punched the air in victory before he sat up from his bed roll and pressed play.
The blue and purple lights coalesced into the familiar man next to the fire. He was barefoot, wearing a loose shirt and pants. His hair was darker and flattened against his scalp suggesting he recently came out of a wash.
“I just finished reading this book, and I have no one to talk to about it, so recording it is!” He was grinning, and dark circles sagged under his eyes. How many hours of sleep was this man running on?
“It’s called The Revenge.” He flourished with his palms as if presenting the title in the air, “I think it’s the best book I have ever read.” He started pacing a few feet back and forth, a trait that Ed noted this man had when his brain must have been buzzing with thoughts. “It was an adventure book about pirates, based many, many years in the past. One of these pirates was a rich duke who hated the limitations of his life, so he ran away to become a pirate. He did not fit in at first, but when the captain of the ship he’d stowed away on, met him,” here he snapped his fingers, “The two men fell in love.”
Ed leaned forward and couldn’t help but grin at this person who talked a mile a minute about this story. He was sold on the book already; it would be a nice change in all of the history data he tended to read amongst the ruins.
“But you see, this captain was infamous, and many other pirates would attack with the hope of making their own name by ending the famous captain’s life. There was even an established army who were out for the captain’s arrest! Their enemies were closing in on the lovers, so they ran away together, hid on an island, and used the guise of innkeepers so they could live out their lives together peacefully.” He giggled, and Ed found himself giggling with him.
“Oh! I guess I just spoiled everything.” He placed his fingers over his lips, his smile still apparent. Ed found it unbearably cute.
Ed laughed a little louder, “You sure did, mate.”
“Pretend you did not hear that. Whoever is watching this, I left the book in a time capsule.” The blond winked, and Ed’s interest spiked.
“No one knows about this, but I found an empty closet, and I have been using it as my auxiliary wardrobe. I even made a lock so no one else can get in.” He was animated with his gestures, proud as a peacock, and Ed watched him, relishing his whimsy. “Because this is a treasure hunt—gotta stay in theme with the pirates—I won’t tell you where it is, but I’ll give you a hint.” The blond crouched a bit with a mad grin on his face, a type of madness that was dangerous and could convince Ed to follow him anywhere. Fuck, this man was fascinating, “In this bunker hallway—if it still exists—you’ll find holos of unicorns with your Focus. Follow where their horns are pointing. The code is my name, Stede Bonnet That’s S-t-e-d-e. No v.” he stood up straight again and placed his hands on his hips before giving another wink, “Good luck.” His image disappeared, and the only light in the bunker was the crackle of the fire.
Ed ignored the fact that his heart jumped upon being winked at by a holo. “Stede,” Ed grinned. He stood up and faced the area where the holo had played. “I’ll find your treasure.”
With his Focus to light the way, Ed traveled farther into the bunker, practically skipping with how much excitement buzzed throughout his body. No holo had ever given him a task to find a book before. It was new, it was weird, it was original, it was … well, it was Stede! Ed was used to finding old relics and learning about the Old Ones’ history. He had studied and killed countless Machines until encountering one was no longer a challenge–he knew their every move and weakness. Devastatingly boring if you asked him. People would recognize the beard and the leather armor as the famous bandit Blackbeard, and flee with their metal shards dropped on the ground. Now where was the fun in that?
How could this hologram from the distant past make Ed this excited for something? It was like Stede offered a new lens to look through, and there were cracks of wonder visible through his eyes that begged to be explored.
When turned a corner and found a hallway, he scanned the area with his Focus. There it was, the bright purple shape of a unicorn floating just in front of the wall. Its shape glitched occasionally and was more grainy in comparison to Stede’s hologram, but it was there, after millennia of waiting, finally able to point Ed in the right direction. The horn pointed left, so left he went. He jogged until there was an intersection, and another glitchy unicorn appeared with the horn pointed right. So far so good. A couple more unicorns led Ed to a door where a pin pad prompted Ed to enter a code. He typed Stede’s name. The pin pad flashed neon green, and the door opened shakily. The light on the ceiling flickered and burned out immediately.
In the dim blue light of his Focus, Ed’s eyes widened as he took in hangers all holding items sealed in plastic. These … were these clothes? Ed unhooked a bag that held something red and about the size of his arm. His Focus failed to reveal any technological way to open it, so he grabbed a small knife strapped to his leather boot and carefully cut a hole. The bag expanded, taking its first lungful of air after millenia, and loosened enough so Ed could pull it apart and peel away the expanded cloth. The red thing spilled out to Ed’s ankles, patterns of strange birds and insane foliage visible amongst the wrinkles. He pulled the robe to his face, as the cloth rubbed against his skin he sighed. Soft. Softer than any cloth he had ever felt, than any Carja tribe noble could dream to feel between their fingers.
“Stede, this was all yours?” Ed stroked the robe and was quick to wrap it around himself. All of these relics were in pristine shape. Rich in the history of the Old World, preserved away so neatly, time barely making a dent in their quality. It was genius.
Ed noticed a metal chest in the corner of the room, and he chuckled. Tucking the robe tighter around himself, he walked to the chest and pushed the button prompted by his Focus scan. The box hissed, its latch finally relieved of its duties, and opened to reveal a glass box holding … a document? He opened the box and grinned— it was a book! The illustration of a mighty ship floated on open water above the title, The Revenge, printed in bold across the cover. The book was thick with leaflet pages bound to its spine, and he carefully picked up the artifact and shook his head in disbelief. Physical books were rare, and they were impossible to find in a condition this immaculate. Even in holograms, the Old Ones were barely shown reading books; they usually read stories from their tablets. This was beyond ancient and exceptionally valuable.
“You absolute lunatic.” Ed dragged his hands over the cover and flipped it open, the grain of paper smooth under the pads of his fingers. A comforting woodsy smell wafted towards him and he pressed his nose between the pages and inhaled its scent.
Ed found his way back to the camp and added more ridgewood to the fire before he pulled off his leather armor leaving on his black leather pants and dark wine-colored shirt. He opened the book and started to read. The meaning of piracy did not stop at just thievery, but expanded to explorers sailing through the vastness of the sea, always on the move, only stopping to restock and rest before setting sail again. It was not too different from Ed’s lifestyle. He kept reading, his heart racing when the pirate captain and duke found each other and fell in love. He tried not to cry when the characters talked through their traumas. When the captain and duke kissed for the first time, Ed laid on his back and kicked his feet in the air making sure to read that line a few more times before continuing. His brows furrowed angrily when their lives were tested by their enemies, and his heart swelled during the lovers’ quick escape, their love growing overwhelmingly with each page. When the book ended happily with the captain and the duke on their island like Stede said it would, Ed reluctantly closed the book, the fire next to him long dead.
He was left with a giddiness that Stede must have felt after reading this book. No wonder the man recorded himself talking about it, the story was amazing! Ed wanted to discuss with Stede about The Revenge, theorize about other adventures the duke and captain would have, and bounce ideas off of each other about how the other pirate characters would continue without their captain and duke. Stede seemed like the kind of guy who would listen and fuel Ed’s excitement with his own. At that thought, Ed’s heart dropped. It was an impossible wish, as Stede was only a distant memory from hundreds of years ago.
Ed adjusted himself on his bedroll and wrapped his robe tightly around himself before closing his eyes. The Revenge never left his grasp when he drifted off and dreamt of an endless sea view from the crow's nest of a mighty ship.
Ed woke up to the distant sound of birds outside. Light rays pierced through the entrance of the bunker and invaded the darkness around him. He groaned before sitting up and reaching into his pouch for some rabbit jerky. The recording device next to him blinked reassuringly.
“Mornin’.” He grunted and tapped on his Focus to open the recorder’s screen. There were three more corrupted files. Just three? Ed frowned and took a bite off of his jerky. Maybe if he was lucky the recordings were much longer than the last two? Ed would be more than okay watching Stede ranting for hours about The Revenge, or hyping himself up for his job assignments, or even discussing in great detail the story behind each piece of clothing stashed in his auxiliary wardrobe.
Ed stroked the soft cloth of Stede’s red robe. Would Stede ever tell the story about this and why it was so soft and delicate? Was this one his favorite?
His curiosity drove him to the next corrupted file in haste, but this one had more issues in its structure, the correct patterns harder to spot. Ed mixed and matched with all the zeros and ones, what number combinations made sense and what coded commands didn’t. After a couple hours of tedious calculating, the file was ready to begin. He was about to press play, but he heard footsteps from afar and the whir of a scan behind him.
“Shit.” Ed reached for his rapier on the floor and dashed to a nearby rusted desk to hide from the scans. He looked over his shoulder and abated his breath as a Watcher appeared from around the tunnel entrance. The ocular sensor array, the one big eye that rested on its large white-plated head, was glowing a fiery bright red. Red-black tendrils of some form of nanotechnology wrapped tightly around its bird-like chassis, and a particular brownish-red acid trail oozed out of its crevices, an indicator that this machine was infected with corruption. Machines were dangerous enough as is, but Corrupted Machines were even more aggressive and unpredictable. It was a good thing the Machine was just a Watcher and would only need one silent strike to its sensitive circuits for a quick death
The synthetic muscles on the Watcher’s long neck twisted its head towards Ed, and he was quick to duck behind the desk before the red sensor spotted him. Usually, these guys traveled in packs, so if this Watcher saw him before he took it down, it would alert its friends and Ed would have more trouble to deal with. Not that he was worried, the whole ordeal would just be tedious.
With its head and massive bipedal legs standing to their tallest height—about as tall as Ed’s chest—it scanned the area, a ruby beam of light grazing the room from the ceiling to the floor making Ed hold his breath. He strained to hear more Watcher footsteps, but nothing followed this one, at least not yet. The Watcher made a metallic gurgling sound, clearly unsatisfied with its scans, followed by heavy metal scratches against the floor, louder with each step. Ed readied his rapier, risked a glance over his shoulder, and noticed the Watcher’s eye scan the abandoned recording device. The Machine shook its head in disgust and its circuits whirred angrily as it took several steps back shaking its tail, ready to charge with its eye focused solely on the device.
“Stede!” Ed scrambled forward and jabbed his rapier through the soft metal between the Machine’s neck and spring-boarded leg, and pushed it to the ground with his body weight. Small static bolts jolted out of its wound, the bubbling engine humming to its death before the body went limp and the lights finally powered off.
Ed pulled his sword out of the Machine and clipped it on his belt.
“Why did you attack my friend?” Ed hummed before he picked up the recording device. Was there something he missed about this box? Out of curiosity, Ed scanned the device again and counted the usual amount of files. Was there something within one or more of the corrupted files the Watcher felt inclined to destroy? Why?
Distant scraping footsteps echoed, and Ed was quick to grab his things. Killing more Watchers and whatever Machines they could be guarding sounded banal as hell, so he set off to Stede’s auxiliary wardrobe, hopefully away from any more interruptions.
Once in the wardrobe, Ed’s Focus displayed the files again, and he tapped on the newest file he’d cleaned. Stede’s shape appeared with the pixels humming against the figment of his body. He paused before the blond could speak.
“Hey,” Ed said to the hologram, “I read the book you saved for me, or, I guess for whoever was to find it.” Ed pulled out The Revenge from the pocket of the robe, showing it to Stede, “It was really good. I loved how the story ended happily for most of the pirates, especially the captain and the duke. I liked how the pirate captain acts all tough, but when he meets this guy, he can feel comfortable enough to be himself with the other man. Softer.” Ed chuckled, and Stede’s face remained frozen in time, “You did something amazing. You went out of your way to preserve your clothes, and this book. Do you know how valuable these are?” Ed shucked off the robe and presented it to the hologram. He was fully aware he was talking to a recording of a man who was long dead, and if anyone witnessed him they would assume dementedness, but he felt a strong connection to this person. Something about Stede, who prioritized books about pirates falling in love and clothes not meant to face the wilds purely for the indulgence of fine fabric, was preposterous yet absolutely fascinating.
Stede of course could not respond, and Ed sighed. He carefully placed the robe and book on top of his many things on the floor and watched the blue and purple pixels with their occasional flicker. He took a step forward and reached towards the man, only to stop just above Stede’s shoulder. Stede was a diffracted image made of only light and darkness, a man-made illusion, but Ed imagined how smooth the textiles of Stede’s shirt would feel, and the warmth that would radiate towards his fingers from the man’s body. He inhaled, considering what Stede would smell like if he were alive, and promptly decided on ginger with a hint of the potent sweetness of salvebrush. He exhaled, “So, tell me about your day,” before he pressed play.
“We did an online meeting as Zero Day is scheduled next month.” Stede began, quick to cross his arms and hold them there, “The erm… the glitched Machines will be here soon and destroy everything. We have been encouraged to record more videos for posterity and such, but there may yet be some hope.” His arms and lips were shaking but he looked onward with determination. He took a deep breath, “There are some pods that are underground my team and I plan to go in. The Machines shouldn’t be able to locate us there. The pods have not been experimented with—I mean with what little time we have— but if they work, these pods will preserve our bodies—send us into cryosleep—until Gaia is finished with her assignment. After Eluthia-9 starts humanity once again.” He removed his hands from his elbows and placed them on his hips in a way that made the action seem forced as his hands trembled while doing so, “It may not work, not likely in any way. But I have to try.” His voice quivered and it took everything in Ed’s power not to hug the air in front of him, “I am not allowed to give away the location of where these pods will be, but… I want to be found. Dead or alive.” He huffed then shook his head, “Is that too selfish for me to say?” The hologram cut out and Stede’s body was replaced by a combination of bright blue numbers and lines. Coordinates.
Ed’s eyes widened, “No way.” He read the numbers once, twice. Fuck, he needed to pull up his map, but he could figure this out, “You fucking lunatic. You are showing me where you are?” His heart raced and he couldn’t help but smile. Was there a chance … could Stede be alive? No, there was no way that was possible. Maybe those pods Stede was talking about could keep his body intact for a while, but a thousand years was pushing it too far. So many situations could happen in that span of time.
Stede wanted to be found though. He wanted to be found and fuck, Ed wanted to find him.
“This is the second treasure hunt I think you challenged me to find. All Mother, I think this is the most fun I had in … years? Shit, Stede. I think if you were around, we would make good friends. I am a little too erm, scary for most peoples’ tastes? But maybe you are the kind of guy who wouldn’t mind.” He hummed to himself as he pinged the map of his known world from his Focus. He hoped that Stede was somewhere within the map and not further out, but fuck, if Stede was a month’s journey away or even longer, he would make that journey. It almost surprised Ed how far he was willing to travel for this man who was long gone, but even after death, he thought, Stede was worth it.
Ed pinpointed Stede’s coordinates, “There you are.” The location was northwest among the mountains of The Claim close to the Oseram village. How convenient. Ed was traveling over there anyway for a new weapon Izzy promised him. He made sure to pack the robe and book in his bag before putting on his assortment of armor. The recording device would be a little clunky to carry around, so Ed pulled out some cable from his scrap pouch and weaved it around the box in a makeshift bag, brading a few more cables as a sling to hang around his shoulder.
Ed marked his location on the map. This auxiliary wardrobe was a special place and what a shame it would be if these fine fabrics were left to be forgotten.
Ed made camp a few hours walk away from the Devil’s Grief when there was a second incident with the recording device. A herd of Striders walked by his camp dangerously close, thick metal bodies bustling through the grass amongst the forest. Ed shouted at them with his full chest to scare them off; their optical sensors startled yellow as they collectively fled, but one stayed behind. This large equine Machine towered over Stede’s device on the ground, and within a second its yellow eyes switched to red. Ed was quick to his feet and activated the hilt on his sword before pressing it behind the Machine’s front legs to override its code. The heavily plated head lowered as the sensors changed back to blue with new teal tendrils pulsating around its neck in response to the new connection with his rapier.
“I could use a ride from you.” Ed shrugged before he patted the Machine’s head, “But I would like to know why Stede’s device triggered that response from you.”
The Strider was much faster on its four steel hooves than Ed was on two legs, and his hair whipped violently at the new speed, some of his blue and white beads braided into his hair clicking together like wind chimes. He held the recording device to his chest protectively every time he came across another herd of Machines and urged the Strider to gallop faster if their blue lights changed color. It was sundown when Ed finally arrived at the Oseram village.
“So, you found a hologram of some twat who hid a bunch of useless junk, and now you are trying to find his resting place. Did I get that right?” Izzy, a merchant of the Oseram, leaned over the counter, heavy plates of armor glinting in intimidating confidence.
“Yeah, Iz, this man is fascinating!” Ed said, his eyes on the device he placed between himself and his friend. Well, he guessed he could call Izzy his friend. Izzy seemed to respect him enough, especially when Ed came back with a boon of scrap and other supplies for trade. Despite Izzy’s consistent sour mood, Ed was elated to finally have someone to talk to who was not a handsome hologram incapable of talking back.
“So this is who Blackbeard is now? Some bloke chasing after a delusional dead man.”
Ed pointedly ignored Izzy’s lack of enthusiasm, “Stede’s favorite book was about pirates. I think you would love it actually! The captain’s first mate was a grumpy bastard with no imagination—just like you!” He danced his head tauntingly at Izzy, earning him a groan. Izzy combed through his grey hair with his gloved hand. Black face paint smudged around his eyes, accentuating his sunken, tired look.
“I supply you with one-of-a-kind weapons in exchange for rare parts and scraps for trade. I never cared where it was from, human or Machine.”
So much for talking to someone who listens. Maybe Izzy was a hologram after all and Ed really was losing it, “This is not stopping me from giving you metal, I am allowed to go on my own adventures.”
“Fuckin shit, would you at least sell the book you have? I am sure it’s worth a fortune to some artifact collector. Might just have enough to overthrow or bribe nobles of the Carja.”
“It’s all become so boring, Iz.” It was Ed’s turn to groan, “I have destroyed countless Machines—rare ones in fact. I robbed and maimed all kinds of people for their weapons and metal shards, and escaped so many arrests, it’s only because I supply you assholes with my shit that you don’t turn me in right now.”
“The fuck’s your point? Think you just wanna leave your legacy? You’re a bandit, Blackbeard. A fearsome one that no bounty hunter or other bandit camps dare to challenge. You are practically a king in the shadows, and everyone knows it.”
Ed pressed his lips together, a frustrated rage boiling inside of him, “Why don’t you take my scrap and give me the gun you promised me, yeah?” He slammed metal plates and cables on the counter, hoping that his feelings would translate through Izzy’s thick skull. He added a Snapmaw lens for good measure. Izzy scoffed with a smirk, “I’ll get Fang on it. It’ll be ready by tomorrow. Might as well make yourself comfortable in your cabin.”
“I don’t live here, Izzy, it’s not mine.” Ed grabbed the recording device and slung it over his shoulder.
“No one but you stays there to sulk.” Izzy spat with venom, then gathered the materials on the desk, “Fang started the fire in there when you arrived. Take care of yourself, you twat.”
Ed rolled his eyes and strutted away from Izzy. Albeit annoying as fuck, the man was smart and resourceful. Izzy was the reason the Oseram village was a safe space for Ed to keep a low profile in, and a part of him was grateful, but he would refuse to admit it to the fucker.
Inside the cabin was warm with a bed dressed in furs and walls decorated with woven tapestries and a couple of deer skulls. Ed dropped his weapons on the floor and slid out of his black leather breastplate with its shoulder pads made of soft rabbit fur with symmetrically sewn hexagonal Machine plates. He untied his long black leather tassets around his hips adorned with the same silver Machine plates, spaced evenly apart like a honeycomb. Then toed his black boots off and unbuckled his black leather bracers before he unclipped most of the silver buttons that trailed from the hips of his black leather pants to his ankles, leaving on his linen trousers and shirt.
The fire popped in greeting when Ed sat down on the bed with the recording device in hand, “Hey Stede.” He hummed before he tapped his Focus on and started working on the next corrupted file, “Had several things after you. First, a Watcher, then a Strider, and Izzy just called the stuff in your auxiliary wardrobe ‘useless junk.’ The blue screen of coding quietly whirred in the background, “I wouldn’t let that get under your skin though. I think Izzy was just jealous he didn’t discover your treasures first.” He deleted some numbers that did not belong and sorted through a couple more patterns to correct the coding, “When I find your resting place—if your body is still somewhat intact—maybe I could bury you in some of your nice clothes. Wish I knew which one was your favorite.” He found his voice crack at the end of the sentence and felt the weight of his heart drop to his stomach. Right, he was looking for Stede’s resting place.
“Fuck, I wish I could meet you, mate.” Ed sniffed and shook his head to push back any tears wanting to escape. It felt silly, to grieve a man he never even met, but Stede was more interesting, more hopeful than any man he had ever encountered. He decided to play the recording of Stede talking about The Revenge again, and he smiled as he multitasked, glimpsing at Stede’s enthusiasm as he paced around the cabin while Ed worked on the current file.
His heart lifted itself out of its pit from the excitement of Stede’s voice, like he was in the room with him right now, happy to be talking with him. There was a closeness that he felt when Stede discussed the plot of the story, and he chuckled when Stede finally gave the directions on finding the book, “Unicorn holograms, like the unicorn figurehead on the ship of the book? Didn’t catch that until now.” He paused the hologram before Stede was about to wink, and his chest fluttered. He’d never felt this way before about somebody, like he had been looking for this man his entire life and had no clue about it until now. It ached because now Ed knew it was much too late.
Ed bit his lip, “Wrong time for us both, I guess.”
The file was finally clean and ready for activation. Ed hesitated, finger hovering over the file. A part of himself wanted to wait, to savor what could be left of the recorded data of Stede, but his curiosity and general impatience won over, and he tapped on the holo screen.
This recording started differently than the rest. Stede was shown lying down in bed, eyes shut with a blanket pulled up above his waist. Ed could hear gentle breaths and an occasional snore from the recording. Did Stede want to record himself sleeping? This video must have resulted from a glitch as the video kept quietly playing. Ed watched the rise and fall of Stede’s chest and was soon delighted to see Stede’s eyes flutter open. Even with the dull coloration of the holo he could tell they were pretty eyes, beautiful enough to kiss.
For another couple of minutes, Stede lay there, stretching his arms once in a while and fidgeting occasionally with his shirt. He licked his lips and trailed his right hand down until it was swallowed under the blanket. A few moments went by before Ed caught movement following between his legs and Ed’s face heated up instantly.
Under the blanket Ed could make out Stede’s hand moving up and down to a prominent bulge. This recording was definitely a mistake, Ed thought. This was not made for posterity, this was an accident and should not be seen by anyone. He felt like an intruder, watching something that was meant to be private. But fuck, Stede hummed in a way that traveled straight to Ed’s cock, and it was impossible to pull his eyes away.
“P-please,” Stede whined.
“Fuck, Stede.” His intense fascination spurred an uncontrollable lust. He moved past his disbelief, and his trousers were quick to join the pile of clothes on the floor. His eyes followed the slow pace Stede was starting at, and he matched it, his dick hardening quicker than usual in anticipation.
Stede’s other hand pulled up his shirt to reveal petite nipples and a broad chest that looked like it was made for Ed to fit himself on top of. He imagined what other ways his body could fit on Stede, if his hands were the right shape to grope Stede’s pecs, if the space between Ed’s nose and chin would perfectly align with the conjunction of Stede’s shoulder and neck. How fucking cruel this was, witnessing Stede like this, so tantalizingly delicious like a delicacy of silken bedsheets. It made his cock ache in desperation, his hands itching for another source of warmth besides his own.
Stede quickened his pace, wet noises echoing in the recording, and a darker pink flushed across his body that overwhelmed Ed with need. Ed matched the pace and propped himself up on one elbow to keep himself from melting through the bed. A knot tightened as waves of pleasure were raking his body and needle-pricking up his spine. He imagined each little noise Stede made was his doing, savoring the delicious sounds and hoping to memorize each curl of every vowel sung. When Stede played with his nipple so did Ed, making him suck in a breath as he pinched it till it hardened. He licked a finger before rubbing his other nipple, sighing as he imagined the slick wetness was from Stede's tongue.
“Fuck. God–I, I’m so needy. Need to be fucked so bad,” Stede arched his neck making his blond curls fall gently away from his face and Ed could not remember the last time he saw something so breathtaking.
“I wish I could. Oh, I’d fuck you so good, Stede.” Precum glistened on Ed’s cock as he stroked, fantasizing about Stede under him, wrapping his legs around Ed’s waist and taking his cock deep inside him. This impossible and selfish desire to fuck this man engulfed him with its fire and he moaned shamelessly with Stede. A perfect melody between them that grasped onto Ed’s heart like a siren song.
“You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Ed panted. He hoped to All Mother, or whatever deity was out there listening, that someone told Stede that in his lifetime. Stede deserved a life of being told many times, every day even, that he was the most beautiful man to exist. Ed would know because he had never met someone like Stede in his life. This perfect human could only appear once on this planet, impossible to replicate.
Stede pushed his blanket down and Ed witnessed what he could of his alluring pink cock wrapped in thick fingers. Ed never hated anything more than how dully the pixels portrayed Stede as they washed out most of his color.
“Fuck fuck fuck—fuuuck.” Stede arched his back, strokes frantic as come spilled out onto his hand and belly. Fucking hell he was magnificent. Ed grabbed a handful of fur on the bed, the knot in his stomach constricting tighter and tighter until an explosion of heat spread across his body, hot pleasure pumping through his veins as ropes of come spilled onto his hand and thighs. He breathed heavily as he watched Stede. The blond’s eyes were closed with his mouth open, chest heaving breath after beautiful breath.
Ed chuckled as he panted, heart pumping loudly against his chest, “I think you were my first holo I found who recorded himself doing that…Probably on accident but, wow, you really are a lunatic, Stede Bonnet.”
Stede breathed for a few more moments before he sat up and walked out of frame to probably clean up after himself. Ed did the same, finding a rag on the nightstand and wetting it with the bucket of water near the fire before wiping himself clean.
It wasn’t long before Stede appeared again in front of the bed, this time with his loose pants back in their proper place and a new shirt. He was frowning, not bothering to cover it up with his hopeful smile that Ed knew so well. He must have been thinking about Zero Day and the Swarm headed to his area. He must have felt terrified, as anyone would during the end of the world. Stede sighed, “Can’t even have an ‘end of the world romp’ now, can I?” A forced chuckle pushed through his chest, “I’ve never even had a date. A proper one at that, with flowers and everything…” He sniffed before he wiped his face.
“Oh, Stede.” Ed found himself kneeling in front of the hologram. Stede’s shoulder shook as he cried and Ed reached out to Stede’s face, keeping his hand above the other’s jawline, and swiped his thumb over the holo’s cheek as if he were wiping the tears away.
Ed never struggled to separate his own feelings from holos. It was easy to avoid, a wall he built between himself and the past. Stede, however, demolished his barricade like a rogue wave and dragged him feet-first into the deep where the current was too strong for him to resurface.
Eventually, Stede wiped his tears away and shifted himself to lay back down and pull his blanket back over himself. Ed watched Stede’s tear-stained face, listening as the man’s shallow breaths transitioned to calm, assuring Ed he was sound asleep.
“You deserved so much better,” Ed found himself saying without thinking to the hologram, “What I’d give for you to have the best date in the world with as many flowers as you’d like.”
The holo ended, and Ed was left alone in the cabin with the dim light of the dying fire.
Stede’s pinpoint grew closer as Ed rode on the back of the Strider west of The Claim. Ed was brimming with excitement; he wondered if there would be more treasures that Stede left behind, or maybe if he found Stede’s Focus, he would discover more recordings of Stede’s life. He yearned to solve every puzzle of who Stede was in the Old World, to categorize stages of his life in a timeline in a book. Ed could feel it in his gut that Stede was someone who would never bore him, even if he found a recording of the man sleeping again (without the self-exploration) or just describing every part of coding and how each pattern worked, Ed was sure he would hang on to every word.
The pinpoint was located on top of a mountain that was too tall for any sensible person to climb. With Stede’s previous comments about being somewhere underground, Ed scoured the area for an opening. Something like the door of a Cauldron where Machines were programmed to be built, or a tunnel like the ones in the Devil’s Grief.
Ed eventually came across a heavy boulder resting on what was an intact a silver door, the corners upturned towards the rock revealing a wide enough gap for Ed to fit himself through.
He dismounted his Strider and crawled through the gap, cool metal pressing against his back as he managed to slip inside with the recording device under his arm snuggled in its cabled basket. When he had enough room to stand up, a dark ominous hallway greeted Ed, the air stuffy and still with a wet metallic smell. Circular wavelengths revealed themselves, and when Ed scanned the space with his Focus, it revealed that the signal’s origin was coming from the end of the tunnel. This was the right place.
“C’mon, Stede,” Ed patted the device under his arm, “Let’s find where you are.”
The wet steps he took echoed down into the darkness where the dim glow of the Focus revealed stalagmites dripping with water, an occasional drop landing on Ed’s scalp. Stede said this base was built to keep the Swarm from reading heat signals, so he wouldn’t be surprised if this tunnel led to the dead center of the mountain.
The distance between himself and the pinpoint shrunk as the signal grew more prominent. He hurried his steps, feeling this impossible magnet pulling at his chest the closer he was to the destination. Several minutes passed and he finally ended up in a room the coordinates led him to. The first thing that caught his eye was a pile of rocks on the right side of the room with a crack of light spilled out from the wall. A cave-in. And the signal was amongst the pile.
“Stede?” On closer inspection, Ed noticed two human-sized metal containers skirting the outside of the pile, one with shattered glass revealing a skull, and another turned over with the top half of a skeleton exposed with the rest of its body crushed underneath. Were either of these skeletons Stede’s?
Ed’s face sank. Of course, this was what he should have expected. How dare he nourish any hope Stede would possibly be alive. Ed fell to his knees and could only be silent as he held the recording device to his chest and opened the screen. One more corrupted file was promised to him.
He opened the file and began to work. It was the only thing he could concentrate hard enough on to keep himself from bawling his eyes out. His chest tightened, and his throat burned like he swallowed a mouthful of blaze. Less than an hour in the dim light with the occasional sniff, the file was ready to be played. Ed reached into one of his pouches to pull out the red silk robe and wrapped it around himself, its softness on his arms a quiet comfort. He inhaled and exhaled deeply before he played the recording.
The lights in the shape of Stede appeared and the holo looked hopeful once again, pulling on Ed’s heart, “This is my last day at the bunker before we go to the location to attempt cryosleep,” Stede stated, “I don’t think we will make it, but fuck I want to keep trying to live. I don’t… I don’t want to die. This can’t be the end for me.” Stede’s smile thinned as he placed a hand on his chest looking directly at Ed. Ed hiccupped and could no longer stop the tears streaming down his face. This feeling was awful. It was like a heavy rock from the landslide lodged itself in Ed’s gut, and he was destined to carry it forever.
“I—I wanted to do wondrous things in this life, beyond project Apollo. I wanted to be a professor in history. I wanted to teach students how we can use technology today to make the world a better place. Sure that is what project Gaia is mostly about—fixing the world—but I just wish the Faro Plague wasn’t the reason for it. We deserve a world that takes care of us because Earth belongs to us as much as we belong to it.” The video skipped, and Stede was holding a tablet in his hands, “...ever since I came across this sonnet by Shakespeare, I have hoped to one day read it to the love of my life—whoever he was.” He began to read, his smile angelically somber.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven sh-shines—”
The pixels that held Stede’s body broke apart, his words became inhumanely crumbled as the audio buzzed in its struggle to translate.
“Nononono! Stede!” Ed cried, and then the recording buzzed off. Ed opened the screen of files, checking to see if there was anything he missed, but there was nothing. The files were as clean as could be. He noticed the pattern from the coding stop prematurely, but that would either mean Stede stopped the recording himself which seemed unlikely, or that there was not enough room for the whole video, which also seemed unlikely. He played the holo again and Stede’s voice was cut off from the same place. Ed’s arms went limp and he stared at the cave in. Stede was going to read a romantic sonnet and Ed would never know it ended. The karma from all the sins he committed must have come back to him by the cruelness of Stede’s story forever out of reach.
He sat there and let grief gnaw at his insides like Glinthawks scavenging through dead Machines. What would he do now? Keep portraying the dangerous bandit Blackbeard? He was at least good at that. It’s not like Stede’s recordings stopped him from being Blackbeard, but… Stede was something new and exciting. Someone who made Ed’s heart beat in ways he never experienced with other people before. If he did not know any better, he would say he grew quickly to even love Stede.
Ed scanned the room one more time, just to give his hands something to do, and there was that signal again within the landslide. He forgot about the signal when he saw the two broken pods, and a signal meant that something under the rubble had power.
Ed’s knees popped by how quickly he stood up and began digging. He lifted rock after rock, spreading pebbles all over the floor as his arms hurried through the rubble. The signal was beeping now, wavelengths clear as day. After almost piling all of the rocks to the other side of the room, he heard the specific ting of rock on metal, and the shape of a pod started to appear. He dusted the material with his hand and there the pod was. The blue light in front of it blinked tiredly as if it was slow to wake up. He cleared the pod entirely from the debris and scanned the contraption. A body was revealed there, highlighted in orange.
A holographic screen appeared, a purple ring of light floating above the pod. Ed reached forward, hands shaking, and turned the ring clockwise. It flashed blue, and a hissing sound from the pod echoed in the room. He watched as the lid pushed itself open, revealing a man with short blond hair and soft pale skin, peacefully asleep.
Ed pressed his fingers against the man’s neck before he could think, and was met with warm skin and a gentle beating pulse.
“All Mother.” Ed cradled the man’s face in his hand.
Stede Bonnet awoke with a large gasp.