adapt - 1
The last time the Asset's handler had removed it from cryostasis was 2011, not 1936, and most definitely not in London.
It had been without a handler for 3 days, 48 minutes, and 19 seconds when it decides its protocols were insufficient, and that waiting further for a handler would be illogical.
Remaining in the abandoned building would be counter-productive to its new Directive: Preservation of Asset. It set out gather as much information of it's surroundings as possible. After all, if it wanted to remain intact for the extraction of Hydra, it would have to educate itself outside of routine parameters.
It started to walk along the rooftops and immediately experienced an almost overwhelming feeling of uncertainty, and the persistent feeling of go away nothing to see here you have other things to do.
The Asset experiences these feelings for 2 minutes and 37 seconds before it comes across a man in a black dress wave a stick at a young woman and take control of her mind.
---
The Asset followed the man in the dress from the rooftop into an alleyway, where he proceeded to instruct the young woman to disrobe herself. She obeyed with admirable obedience, and the Asset wondered if the man in the dress worked for Hydra as well. The man, however, did not walk with the controlled grace of the assassins, or with the confident assurance of the scientists.
One minutes and seven seconds after the man in the dress had led the woman into the alley, four other men in red dresses arrived out of the air.
The Asset immediately went into crisis mode, ducking back behind the ledge of the roof and training the scope of the handgun it had salvaged two days, four hours, seven minutes and eight seconds ago at the new arrivals.
Cloaking technology?
No, the Asset decided after scanning the men. They were not carrying any weapons at all—civilians? —yet were aiming sticks at the man in the black dress while the young woman watched blankly, not responding. Her discipline was impressive to the Asset.
The Asset watched as lights shot from the sticks and it immediately categorized them as the weapons they apparently were. The lights did little to no damage to the walls of the alley, but the man in black robes created a shield of some kind around himself regardless.
The lights were damaging only to organic tissue, the Asset hypothesized. It could understand the appeal of a weapon that left no marks on the surroundings yet was harmful to the target. Of course, the Asset never left collateral damage unless it was specified in the mission, but for a less-skilled operative the stick weapons may be efficient.
One of the lights made it past the shield and struck the man in the black dress, causing ropes to sprout from nothingness to surround the target. A second light hit the target and the man collapsed as if dead. The Asset checked and saw the target still breathing.
A light that caused instant unconsciousness?
A light that created from nothing?
The Asset lifted its gun and fired four times.
Three of the men in red robes dropped to the ground with holes in their left eyes.
One falls to his knees with a muffled scream and seems to forget that he holds a weapon. He grasps his bleeding stomach with a weak and trembling hand, and the Asset had to commend his silence.
The Asset quickly scaled down the building and landed amongst the bodies of the men in robes, making quick work of searching the ones in red. It came away with four stick weapons which it wrapped carefully in a strip of dress it’d torn from one of the targets. It did not know how they worked yet, and discharging one on itself by accident would be counterproductive.
One of the dead men had a pouch full of what looked to be gold coins, which the Asset had pocketed. None of them were carrying conventional ID, which it supposed made sense if they were meant to be covert operatives.
Two vials of varying colors containing unidentified liquids were also taken.
The man in black robes was still unconscious, and the Asset took his stick weapon and pouch of coins as well. Then, it crouched and broke the man’s neck, not willing to leave witnesses. The woman who had been quietly watching until this moment jerked in place at the man’s death, and the Asset swiftly moved to her side and covered her mouth and nose with its metal hand and smothered her until she lost consciousness.
No one was allowed to know the Asset had been here. It stripped the bodies and piled them together, taking the odd dresses and burying them underneath several layers of refuse in a nearby bin.
The last man doesn't notice the Asset, busy trying to stem the blood spilling from his wound. It lifted his stick and waves it, and the wound knits itself back together. It is the kind of healing the Asset has only seen in Hydra's experiments. It focuses on the man again after a brief second of confusion, watching as he shook, half in fear and half in pain.
The Asset took this opportunity to snatch the black robed man's ropes and tied it around the injured man's wrists, grabbing his stick.
The captive screamed.
The Asset covered the captive’s face with its metal hand to stop the screaming. It waited patiently for the captive to silence himself.
“Identify,” the Asset ordered, holding up the man’s stick weapon. The captive’s eyes bulged. If the captive had been capable of movement, he might have lunged towards the Asset. The captive said nothing, seeming more fearful than he had been prior to the Asset displaying the stick weapon.
The Asset untied the captive’s right arm and lifted it. It drew its salvaged blade and waited for the captive to notice. When it had the captive’s attention, the Asset removed the captive’s right thumb. It was unsure if this would be felt, strange man as the captive was, but he howled regardless.
“Identify,” the Asset repeated, holding the stick weapon in its flesh hand.
“It’s my wand!” the captive screamed, his wild eyes fixed on the steadily bleeding stump where his thumb had been. The Asset rewarded his compliance by staunching the blood flow.
“Clarify: purpose of the wand.”
“It—it’s to cast spells!” the captive cried out, sobbing and hysterical. The Asset identified the captive as young and inadequately trained.
“Define: usage of the word spells.”
“Magic!” the captive shuddered, eyes roiling away from his thumb and locking on the exposed metal of the Arm. “You use wands to cast magic.”
Magic was unheard of. There was a higher chance that the man simply believed he was utilizing magic when he was, in fact, simply a super-human making use of a newfound internalized energy source.
"Clarify: teleportation."
The captive does not speak for a few seconds, and it raises the knife again.
"Apparation," the man whimpers. "It's a transportation spell that allows a witch or wizard to instantly travel from one location to another."
The Asset lifted the three vials.
“Identify.”
“T-the clear one’s veritaserum,” the captive stammered. “The r-red one’s a blood replenisher.”
The Asset mentally translated the butchered Latin. A truth serum? The Asset was dubious.
“Clarify: how to administer veritaserum.”
“T-three drops,” the captive sobbed, eyes squeezed shut.
The Asset clamped its metal hand around the man’s jaw and forced his mouth open. The Asset administered three drops of the clear vial. The probability of the clear vial being a poison instead of a truth serum was 79.21%. He waits for the man to start convulsing, the way so many did when they ingested most types of clear poisons.
Instead, the captive’s face went slack, and his eyes glazed over. The Asset checked, and the captive was still breathing.
“Identify: name and organization.”
“Robert Waller, Auror, Ministry of Magic,” came the prompt, emotionless reply.
The Asset glanced at the clear vial. “Clarify: what is the Ministry of Magic.”
“The Ministry is the governing body of the Wizarding World in Great Britain.”
“Clarify: what is the Wizarding World.”
“The hidden territories and homesteads of the witches and wizards of Earth.”
“Clarify: how are they hidden.”
“There are wards around the properties and alleys which prevent muggles from seeing them.”
“Define: muggle.”
“A non-magical human being.”
The Asset approved of this truth serum. It increased the Asset’s effectiveness at interrogation by 97%.
“Query: how a non-magical may defend itself against magic.” The Asset was aware that magic existed extra-terrestrially. It would not discount the fact that it may exist on Earth as well.
“You’d need a runic ward,” the captive slurred, eyes clearing slightly. “Anchored to something inorganic that’s always on your person. A wizard would have to apply it.”
“Query: are you capable of performing this ward?”
“N-no,” the man gritted his teeth, fighting to answer now. The Asset debated dosing him again. “I only g-got an A-acceptable in Runes at H-hogwarts.”
“Clarify: who can apply this ward.”
“R-rune M-masters,” the captive gasped for breath and his eyes cleared.
The Asset studied the trembling captive dispassionately as it considered its options. Locating a Rune Master to apply the protective ward was now Priority One, right behind Directive: Preservation of Asset. It speculated that the coins it had been liberating from the men in dresses—wizards—were the equivalent of magical currency. Perhaps it could use them in trade for services.
It cocks its head at the captive, considering. It reaches forward.
The Asset snaps the man's neck.
It left the captive where he lay tied to a chair, retreating out the door to find more information. It needed to locate an entrance to the Wizarding World, and then find a Rune Master willing to apply the necessary protection.
---
The Asset had located a possible entrance.
Getting near the door to the tavern no one else seemed to see and that it had slight trouble focusing on caused the Arm to malfunction. Reaction time of the Arm dropped by 24% when it stepped within five feet of the door to Target: Leaky Cauldron. Stepping five feet one inch away from the door left the Arm with full functionality. The brief periods of malfunction did not seem to leave lasting damage to the Arm.
The Asset calculated the risk of temporary loss of function to the Arm against the possibility of locating a Rune Master for Priority One. The risk was acceptable.
The Asset waited for nightfall before scaling the building which caused the Arm to malfunction. The Arm dropped in functionality by precisely 24%. It performed maintenance routines to gauge the full range of motion available to it and calibrated accordingly. Functionality of the Arm rose by 13%. Acceptable.
The Asset crouched on the roof and stared out over the revealed area. Staring directly at the area in front of it caused its eyes to malfunction, so it unfocused its eyes and gazed in the general direction of the area instead. Its eyes returned to full functionality.
Error.
The area in front of the Asset was a collection of rooftops and chimneys. The area in front of the Asset was an open alleyway which blurred when focused on directly. Error.
The Asset stopped. Recalibrated. The plates on the Arm whirred quietly. Functionality down by 11%. It refocused.
The area in front of the Asset was an open alleyway. The sight did not blur when focused on directly. Acceptable.
The Asset kept to the rooftops as it stepped out into the newly revealed alleyway. Functionality of the Arm dropped an additional 5%. It stopped. Recalibrated. The Arm returned to previous functionality.
It moved on.
The storefronts it could see in the newly revealed alley were all closed. There were no visible civilians.
A side alley revealed itself when the Asset unfocused its eyes again. Stepping near it reduced the functionality of the Arm by another 5%. The Asset recalibrated. Functionality returned. There were civilians in the side alley. They were all in dark colors, and most of them looked like petty criminals.
The Asset had a distant thought that this was a remarkable cliché. The Asset ignored the thought. It was unimportant. The Asset watched the civilians. All of them had stick weapons—wands. Two of them had knives poorly hidden under their clothes. All of them wore dresses.
One of them had claws. Three others had sharp teeth. Two of them were short and hunched over. The others avoided those.
The Asset ignored them.
It located a man wearing a black dress who was much cleaner than his surroundings. He sneered at the others in the alley and looked down his nose at them. He walked like he owned everything around him. His pouch of coins was tied outside his robes, and made noise when he walked. He would make a good target for information.
The Asset gauged the surrounding civilians. None of them looked favorably upon the target. One of the ones with teeth hissed at the man, and earned a shot of purple light that he dodged inhumanly swift in return. The Asset reassigned the ones with teeth as being enhanced.
The Asset calculated distance and force. It stepped off the roof when the target passed beneath it and landed cat-quiet behind the target. None of the civilians surrounding him reacted. The Asset struck out with the Arm and the man fell to the ground.
The Asset bent and removed the coin pouch, tossing it off to the side where one of the ones with sharp teeth darted in and snatched it. A fight ensued over who would get to keep the pouch.
The Asset slung the target over its shoulder and stalked off in the chaos. No one stopped it.
---
The Asset stripped the target, locating a stick weapon and another, smaller pouch that the Asset could not open.
It restrained the target and prevented it from teleporting away in the proven manner.
The Asset roused the target. The target woke screaming. The Asset silenced the target in the proven manner and waited for the target to be silent. It took five minutes twenty-four seconds longer than it had taken the auror.
The Asset was not impressed.
When the target stopped screaming, the Asset produced the veritaserum. The target panicked.
“Do you know who I am?!” the target demanded, hysterical. The Asset was even less impressed. The target noticed and began to bluster. “I'll have you know I am—"
The Asset clamped the Arm over the target’s face and squeezed lightly. Lightly for the Asset was still strong enough to crush steel. The target screamed, but stopped attempting to intimidate the Asset. The Asset administered the proper dosage of veritaserum to the struggling captive
“Query: where to find a Rune Master available for illegal services.”
“Ancient Artifacts, at the end of Knockturn. The proprietor is an uncertified Rune Master.” Even through the truth serum the target seemed surprised at the question. The Asset did not particularly care.
“Identify: name and organization.”
“Cyrile Lestrange, Department of Creature Regulation, Ministry of Magic.” The target seemed anxious at having revealed the last. The Asset connected it to the snake tattoo which was still watching it.
“Identify: status.”
“Part of the Lestrange family, one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" pure-blood families, dated back centuries in the British wizarding community,” the target explained, even more nervous. He was sweating even through the serum.
“Identify: list of spells and their effects that would not be blocked by the work of a Rune Master.”
This, the target seemed more relieved to answer. “Avada Kedavra, the killing curse—instant death. It’s bright green. Imperius, the controlling curse—total control of the target’s body. It’s dark purple. Cruciatus, the torture curse—incredible, unstoppable pain. It’s dark red.” At this, the target stopped.
This answer pleased the Asset. That there were only three spells that would get through the Rune Master’s work—even if they appeared to be incredibly dangerous spells—was encouraging.
Though, that did raise another pertinent question.
“Query: why do all magicals not make use of a Rune Master’s ward to avoid hostile attacks?”
“Because the ward doesn’t discriminate between magic. It would make you immune to hostile magic, but it’d also block healing spells and prevent the use of magical items and render potions useless. The ward itself has to be placed on an object that is in constant contact with your body; the moment it is removed, the ward becomes inert forever. It’s a soul-spell that can only be cast on a person once in their entire life, so putting it on something that will just get taken off at some point when potions or healing spells will be necessary isn’t worth it.”
The Asset considered the information. The ward seemed to have no downsides. The Asset did not require healing spells and did not trust potions. Veritaserum was something it would very much like to be immune to, considering what it did, and if the ward to keep it protected from attacks also rendered potions inert…
The Asset would have smiled, if that had been within its programming. It goes instead for snapping the captive's neck.
The target slumped, dead.
The Asset’s lip twitched beneath its mask.
---
Target: Ancient Artifacts was only identifiable by the faded gold lettering on the broken window. The Asset studied the entrance from its perch on the rooftop across the street and considered its options. There was a light on in the store, which suggested it may still be open. There were also two men with sharp teeth lingering near the door.
The Asset had been watching them through the scope on its gun for ten minutes. Neither had noticed.
Both displayed above-human strength and speed.
Both displayed normal human reflexes and poor situational awareness.
They were inferior to the Asset in every way.
The Asset had not completed as many missions as it had by being unintelligent.
The Asset watched as a third man with sharp teeth approached the two by the door. All three began posturing for dominance. It was pathetic. One of them swung a punch at another that missed and hit the wall. The wall cracked and the man was unharmed.
The Asset recalibrated.
Threat Level: Low.
The Asset dropped to the street. All three turned to look at him. The Asset moved towards the entrance, letting the blade fall into its flesh hand.
The three moved towards him, saying something in a language the Asset was not proficient in. The tone was antagonistic. One of them reached out to touch it, inhuman-fast. The Asset was faster.
The Arm crunched into the man’s sternum hard enough to shove ribs into lungs and pulverize a human heart. The man slammed twenty feet back and broke through a storefront wall. The other two froze, staring. The Asset did not stop moving towards *Target: Ancient Artifacts*.
They did not attempt to stop it again.
It was dimly lit inside the store. There was an older man hunched behind the counter wearing regular clothing. This was the first wizard the Asset had seen that was not in a dress. The Asset approved.
The old man looked up at the Asset. His expression did not change at the sight of the mask, goggles, or the Arm. The Asset approved further.
“What can I do for you, young man?” the old wizard asked in a hoarse voice.
Inaccurate. The Asset was not young. It was aware that its usual method of interacting with civilians would not be sufficient to exchange goods and services.
“It requires a ward against magic,” the Asset informed the man, letting its Russian accent thicken enough to be audible. Letting the civilian assume English was not its first language would make the civilian favorable to overlooking any grammatical proclivities the Asset could not deprogram from itself.
The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Aside from that, his face did not change. “The Null Ward?” the man clarified. “You’re aware that potions and healing spells won’t work for you anymore? That you won’t ever be able to pick up a wand and have it work for you?”
“It does not require a wand, and it does not trust potions,” the Asset informed the man.
The man’s face cracked into a grim, manic sort of smile. The Asset recognized it from its handlers and the scientists who had worked on the Arm.
“A muggle? In Knockturn Alley?” the civilian cackled with laughter. The Asset remained unmoved, standing five feet from the counter with the naked blade in its flesh hand.
The civilian calmed himself and came around the counter. He was two heads shorter than the Asset and stood hunched at the shoulders. “Marvelous,” the man crowed. “Simply marvelous. How did you sneak past the wards, young man?”
“It recalibrated,” the Asset replied. The civilian matched the profile of a handler by 87%. Answering the civilian’s questions would not interfere with protocols so long as nothing classified was requested.
The civilian’s eyes sharpened and lingered on the Arm. “So, the muggle government’s finally catching on, eh?” There was a 75% chance that the question was rhetorical. The Asset remained silent and let the civilian draw his own conclusions. “Excellent. It’s about time something happened to wake up the sheep.”
The civilian gestured with a crooked hand to a door behind the counter.
“Come on, boy. Let old Tiberius fix you up.”
The Asset followed and was led to a low table surrounded by floating candles.
“What do you want your Null Ward inscribed on, boy?” the civilian croaked, sifting through a mug full of needles and a few jars of ink.
“The Arm,” the Asset replied. It was the most logical choice available. It was an inorganic thing that was always in constant contact with its body, and it could not be removed without causing critical damage to the Asset’s nerves and spine. If the Arm were lost, the Asset would be crippled worse than what a loss of the ward would imply.
The civilian studied the Arm for a moment, before grinning the handler’s smile again. “Marvelous.”
The civilian moved towards the Asset, and the Asset temporarily dialed down its self-defense protocols. It gripped the knife loosely in its flesh hand in case of attack. The civilian noticed but said nothing. The civilian tapped a small hammer-like tool against the Arm and listened to the noise produced. He then pressed one of the needles to the arm and pushed. The metal did not give.
“This is the strongest metal I’ve ever seen,” the civilian acknowledged, visibly impressed. The Asset agreed. The Arm was impressive. “And I’ve worked with mithril, boy.”
“Can it be done?” the Asset inquired.
“Oh yes,” the civilian reassured, grinning again. “I’ll just need to bring out the special tools. Don’t go telling the aurors I’ve got these, eh?” The civilian picked up a long black needle as if it were a live snake. “A splinter from the rib of a nundu. If this won’t mark that arm of yours, nothing will.”
The needle worked. The civilian laughed in triumph and set to work.
The procedure took four hours. The Asset did not move or speak until the civilian lifted the needle and stepped back, visibly exhausted. It turned to stare at the Arm, lifting it to the light.
The ward was a series of red bands around the bicep of the Arm filled with incomprehensible runes and symbols that made its eyes malfunction if focused on directly. The Asset recalibrated. Functionality returned. There was a ring of similar red symbols around the star on its shoulder that glowed faintly.
“Care to put it to the test, boy?” the civilian rasped, lifting a stick weapon. The Asset stood, blade held loosely in its flesh hand.
The stick weapon was flicked in its direction. The light was a soft blue. It struck the Asset and flowed off it like water, causing no visible or discernable reaction. The bands on the Arm glowed the same blue as the light, before fading when the spell dissipated. The bands were now invisible. Only the red runes around the star remained.
“It’ll stay invisible when there’s no active magic touching you,” the civilian informed the Asset, making a glass appear with a flick of the stick weapon—wand—and filling it likewise with water. The civilian took a sip.
“The ones around your star anchor the ward to your soul; they’ll be there as long as that thing is attached to you. Only magic that will still affect you now are the Unforgivables. Make sure you dodge those, boy.”
The Asset speculated that the Unforgivables were the three spells the Death Eater had specified earlier. Acceptable.
The Asset produced the pouch of coins it had taken from the targets which had come after it. It set the pouch on the table in front of the man and watched him open it. The man waved his stick at the pouch and a number floated in the air above it. The man nodded at the number and tucked the pouch away, satisfied.
The Asset was pleased. It had fulfilled Priority One. The Rune Master would be a valuable asset to retain, so it refrained from terminating him. It might need more rune work done in the future if its handlers never located it.
“Pleasure doing business with you, boy,” the civilian grinned toothily at the Asset. “Feel free to come again.”
The Asset would be sure to do so when further work was required.
---
The Asset's new Priority One is gathering as much knowledge as possible about the new world.