The Foundry | Part One | Chapter Nine
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part One | Thrice Bled Heart
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Three | Dominion
Chapter Nine
Echo couldn’t let it go. She’d been spending all of her time of late under the apprehensive supervision of Leopold in the simulation hall.
Treated for injuries, admonished quite thoroughly by what seemed like the entire breadth of The Foundry’s administration, she’d been placed on academic leave — warned there would be no more allowance for such violent outbursts.
Cameron had been most disappointed by the news at first, not to mention the incident itself, until they’d both realized how perfect this punishment actually was to their shared hopes. Echo knew everything her class was being taught. It was why the administrators made the decision to begin with. That, and they’d seen the fire in her eyes.
The Foundry would never let and inner-inferno go to waste, not as long as there was a chance it might be contained, harnessed, and so they’d allow this woman the space to transform herself through its flame into the demon of war she was born to be.
After their formalities, that ever long slap-on-the-wrist which seemed to go on forever, Echo realized why they’d spent such effort in reinforcing their feigned disapproval. It had been in the looseness of her instructors after that farce had ceased, along with the subtext beneath all of what Orator Coriseau had shared after the rest had gone which informed her; everyone of them was excited to see what she’d do, and they believed in Echo.
Rory had been sent to work with the people of Atreya, off on one of The Foundry’s anti-recruitment campaigns, which had apparently become a specialty of hers.
There were passing considerations within Echo that this had been done to more than simply separate them. Leadership was known for employing cruelest tactics to conjure manipulative reflection — if only when an initiate provided the requisite over-abundance of ego to earn it most completely.
She was simultaneously aware of the administration’s underhanded intents, and entirely affected by them. They would have known how their refusal to force some mediation between the two, and allow that reconciliation so needed in her heart, would allow this spark Echo held inside to craft a furnace she could use in forging herself to greatness.
Offers were made by Cameron to run apocalypse with her, and she’d refused them out of hand. Echo wouldn’t want to do that to this woman she was feeling such an intense warmth towards.
Leopold had been letting her go in solo. Then she’d taken on a number of unique intelligences created for steepest challenge, some of which had ruined her entirely — over and over. Revisiting her freshest grief without care to the needs of her body, Echo let that growing insatiability for rediscovering the complete excellence of form witnessed in battle with Rory take over.
She was layering trauma into herself by reliving the horror again and again; and Echo was loving every minute of it. It brought more out of herself than she’d ever seen before. Each new hurt would be witnessed, held for that moment it deserved, then alchemized into raw fury.
This would be how she changed The Foundry. She’d become a visage of the wrath burnt off from her own heart’s pain, and it would feel absolutely wonderful.
There wasn’t a bot left in apocalypse she couldn’t dismantle at her leisure after a few weeks spent in practice, and Echo was pleased to discover a plan brewing in her mind. She’d been watching after her classmates progress in study — listening to the lectures, pouring her own time into Scarlet’s redesign, watching back their run’s through the numerous simulations they’d been showing out within — and Echo felt it time to find herself a real opponent.
Ashe was their name; that girl with the tattoos. When Echo sat at their table in the dining hall the first time, they hadn’t known what to think, a part of them perhaps sensing lies beneath the presentation of meekness and longing for submissive reconciliation. Though, Echo would settle into believing they were just kind of a dumb.
No matter, it worked. They were flattered by the way Echo differed to them with such humility, offering friendship without expectation of returned respect.
The time which passed before she’d made her move was actually quite brief, only seeing Ashe a few times. She had fun with them eventually, and they’d even held each other once. It was really powerful. Strangely enough, they stowed a bright light in need of witnessing themself. Echo hated that she could see it.
That one sported quite the ego, but they were quick to build another up who’d inflate it. Just like with the administration’s manipulations, and literally everyone else’s, Echo would know them for what they were, but find herself swayed regardless. At least Ashe’s made her feel good in a way.
She’d first suggested it like it wasn’t the entire purpose for their friendship to begin with, and Ashe had gotten so fired up about they’d even led the way into Instructor Salus’ office. He’d looked at Echo so hard and long before relenting; that man knew exactly what she was up to.
Echo felt he’d made the choice to let it go on despite his own better urges, weighing the options of saving this fool from what they were walking into, against allowing her to exercise the demon she’d clearly been holding inside. Though, she’d forgotten all about those notions as soon as they’d cleared his office doors.
Echo was only trying not to run as they’d gone straight to the simulation hall. Leopold was concerned when she explained, and it had been a ruthless barrage of insulting demands she’d laid upon him in response to his honest emotional reaction to their purposes.
Strapped back into her lucky hardseat, plugging in, and sensing a last-minute hesitation in Ashe when she’d looked their way, Echo knew she had them. Their pride wouldn’t allow them to back down now.
“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” Echo beamed with a lightness that Ashe would mistake as some form of humored artifice.
Thunder was wrought from the wake of velocity borne by Echo’s ship-formed mech as it broke the simulated sound barrier of that crumbling crimson planet in which they’d fought. She’d been repeating tactics employed at the start of her battle with Rory, knowing Ashe had witnessed her failure in such detail from those many displays which would materialize in the darkened classroom during such demonstrations.
They’d done exactly as expected — employing a near identical response to Rory — no smidge of originality within them.
Ashe had no idea Echo was toying with them as she’d disabled each volley of futile attacks they’d lobbed, taking time to enjoy the view from her eagle’s eye, waiting until the moment felt just right.
Echo dove when her heart called had called for it, spinning past the missiles her electronic warfare suite had disabled all homing functionality within, and she’d initiated transformation near directly above Ashe’s mech on the outskirts of that crumbling city below. This was her ‘main move’ now.
She’d been practicing it; that same sequence of events which had come through happenstance the first time around — perfecting the daring thrusterwork and fired gravity bursts, embellished with tools discovered hidden within her mech — now finding herself most able to land on two feet, without a single hesitation needed to stand in firmest defense of her honor.
As Echo had rightfully known it would be, emerging through that haze created by her most furious descent, Ashe tried to re-use more stale strategies.
It was the cinderblade — a projected dagger which would melt through strongest minerals and nearly all human fabrications, which Echo wished the very most that she’d known of previously. Although, she was quite aware of it now.
There was a time after beginning to shred the framework of Ashe’s simulated mechwarrior, between the lopping off little chunks, when she wondered if the class had gotten to that part of their coursework dedicated to withstanding this kind of psycho-violent anguish.
After a bit of consideration, Echo knew they hadn’t.
Ripping the cinderblade out of that mechanical flesh before burning it back in slower, her repetitious insertions of hellborne rage would go on for a time — severing limbs, pressuring its broadside to crackle in scorching contact with the hull of Ashe’s chest plating — and there was worry within Echo of what Leopold might be thinking, but mostly, if he’d the foresight to disable automated recording.
This wasn’t who’d she wanted, but it would do.
She’d begun to stomp the bits of Ashe which were left into pieces before opening their shared communication channel, itself a feature she was so eager to utilize in action.
“Who’s laughing now,” is all Echo spoke through that open line before she sawed their head clean off.
Ashe hadn’t said a word as they’d wept their way from the simulation hall. They were most hurt by this, and Echo wouldn’t know that for some time, so lost in her own pain. Somehow, despite the fact they’d have left The Foundry entirely before the next waking cycle.
Leopold came to her then, herself consciously grateful to find he was holding back whatever pensive thoughts his face couldn’t help but portray the suppression of.
“Were you recording that?” Echo asked without making further eye contact, unstrapping from the hardchair.
Leopold hadn’t responded for a longest time while Echo got up, stretched her body and rolled her neck, sighing a great release of tension from within before turning back to ask it again.
“Were you recording that?”
He looked hurt, this clearly wasn’t a moment of his life he’d been glad to have taken part in. Still, as always with this kindest man, there was more compassion in his eyes for Echo than anything else.
“I stopped it,” he’d finally told her.
She was getting ready to leave when he built up the courage to let out those words held beneath the surface from that second she’d gotten out of simulation, and they’d found this moment of privacy; Ashe having now fled in deepest despair.
When he’d finally caught her eyes, that’s when he asked it.
“Why would you do that, Echo?”
