They were mildly psychotic. Of that, I was now utterly certain. One can only watch something explode in so many ways in so little time and remain ecstatically giddy.

Which, I suppose, was an excellent quality to have in any of my researchers, especially given that they would be in charge of creating weapons capable of doing just that.

Even so, I found that there were several examples of smaller explosions that were less than exciting to me. I had the capacity to examine the explosions as they occurred. Seeing something happen at speed, to slow it down and play it back with my newfound cybernetic existence was critically useful.

It wasn’t as though the explosions themselves were all that different from a purely scientific standpoint. Well, most of them anyways. Usually an explosion was the result of a chemical reaction that occured at incredible speeds, often with great heat and light. The bulk of the explosions they had showed me still held to this.

The major difference was in the quantity of material used.

And, while I may not have been an avid sci-fi enthusiast in the old world, I had to admit that the concept of bullets that exploded with intense force was something that very much so interested me.

The current bullet concept they had for me was 5 cm in length. The casing itself was designed to maximize the damage from the shell. Unfortunately, they still had to have space for the propellant, but even now they were testing mag-rifles, fusing some new technology and ingenuity to shrink batteries and make magnetics more viable. It seemed that individuals like Fran had made such things possible, their gear holding incredible insights into how such magnetic control could be achieved.

The best thing was that the material inside required a small smart chip to arm them, otherwise they wouldn’t explode. A perfect blend of electricity, air, and an - admittedly minor - movement in the core of the shell would give the explosive the clearance to explode. This happened as it was travelling out of the barrel, so there was no risk of them arming early, or exploding in the clip.

Assumedly. I was wary due to the fact that I’d watched a thumb sized chunk shred an analog to a human torso, leaving a gaping hole.

“We got a few of these ideas from seeing the Spindly,” Dr. Ross spoke, “They were so explosive after damaged enough that we just had to know what they were doing inside of themselves to cause such a volatile reaction. There haven’t been many, though, so we had to rely on scraps left behind.”

“More could be done with a live specimen,” Yaga agreed morosely, “It will have to wait for another time. Even so, we discovered it was not only the material composition, but also the execution that allowed them such destructive fo-”

“Wait, before that,” I stopped their cascade into another tireless demonstration, “You’d mentioned that another biotic had been found. I’m assuming that they are these… Spindly?”

Dr. Ross’ momentary disappointment flooded away to be replaced with an even greater zeal. I felt then that, perhaps, most people would have stopped him well before this point and escaped. The fact that I needed all of this information - and admittedly it was very interesting - kept me here so far, but I did in fact have a job to do elsewhere.

“Well, let’s show you that first. It’s easier to see the kind of damage first. Luckily no one was injured in the encounter; the Iron Chariot team handled it rather well.” He nodded, waving me over to a dimmed room near the corner of the expansive underground floor, “If it were another team, less heavily armored, then we might have had a very different scenario. As it was, they allowed us to hold onto the damaged armor plating to run tests. Regrettably, the biotics themselves yet continue to decay rapidly.”

“I’d thought little of it before coming here,” Yaga thoughtfully murmured, “It is odd that biotics - including my spawn - disintegrate so readily after death. Ah, but that is a topic for another time. You may turn your attention to these examples of the Spindlies destructive power.” The psuedo-biotic turned my gaze with a gesture of his hand as we entered the room with blackened glass for privacy. On the adjacent wall upon walking into the room was a sight that made my eyes narrow.

The chest plate of the leader of the Iron Chariot’s machine was held suspended with a metal arm. It was pocked with deep scars, furrows carved through its sides. Patrick - if I properly recalled the man’s name - must have been thoroughly incensed by the loss of his machine.

“How many of these Spindlies did they find?” I spoke, the pair in the room with me noting the shift in my demeanor with a more controlled response.

“One, wandering aimlessly.” Answered Yaga as he tapped a few buttons on the consoles connecting to a larger series of screens, “Never have we encountered more than one at a time. After the first encounter the Legion circulated information regarding this strain of biotic both to the Legion and Bulwark forces.”

Dr. Ross exhaled a relieved sigh, “Which is good, because these things pack a mean punch. Watch.”

I turned my attention to the video playing, watching what at first was a P.O.V. from Patrick. His mech was surprisingly agile and quiet in spite of its size, and I noted that he was in the lead position for his team. That made sense, given how tanky he was.

Ahead of him, though, I saw something that made my stomach churn.

‘Is that fucking Spiker?’ Internally I seethed, feeling ghost pains in my left arm from long ago, when a Unique biotic - a spiked, spider looking creature - nearly killed me. I tensed as I watched it, but after a few seconds I realized I was wrong. The creature had dozens of ‘legs’ that protruded from a central mass, but it wasn’t like the long-legged spider thing that Spiker had been. It was damn close, though. Limbs came from every angle, small eye-stalks waved creepily from between limbs. Some of said limbs were bulkier, flexible only on a few joints, but were still razor sharp. Other branching limbs were straighter, unable to flex in any given direction too much, it seemed, though they were definitely capable of retracting. It undulated as it moved, assisted by its main legs as it seemed to meander at an idle pace.

That was, at least, until a sound occurred behind Patrick, drawing the gaze of every single eye stalk that the spiked ball had to him.

“Wait for it, just in case it’s not host-” Patrick had begun to say, only for his words to get drowned out by a loud screeching as the Spindly ground its needle like appendages together. It rushed towards the Iron chariots, not as fast as a Wolf but still a great deal quicker than I’d expected.

Moreover, the things main mass was at least the size of a beach ball, but the limbs themselves made it cover three meters in every direction in spikes. It expertly moved across the uneven, timber filled terrain, spikes retracting or pushing as needed for it to gain every bit of mobility it could.

“Hostile!” Patrick spat, bringing up a mounted weapon on his arm. It roared to life with a cannon shot, smoke and percussive force blasting the forest, shaking the leaves as it did so.

The Spindly somehow managed to dodge, but not by much. A portion of its main body was tagged, and several spikes on its side flew away in chunks, as well as a main leg. It haltingly staggered, before several eyes simply seemed to widen and bulge. The next moment, it threw itself in the air with incredible force, the body enlarging by almost double.

Then shrank to a third of the size, the spikes elongating and finally the entire mass exploding. It happened so fast and without hesitation, Patrick barely got an arm up to cover where his torso would be when black lances tore through the surrounding woods.

The feed flickered, Patrick shouting in alarm and confirming the state of his teammates in the wake of the incredibly loud explosion.

Dr. Ross paused it, “That’s how it happened. It’s quite a potent explosive, and we’re not sure yet what its spikes were made of, but they were quite… damaging.”

“It looks similar to a Unique I’ve seen before.” I thought aloud, “I wonder if that’s just a coincidence…”

“Perhaps that Unique was from a biotic colony similar to this one?” Yaga pondered with me, “That is disconcerting, however, given the nature of this strain. Even my own clones are not so capable of such destruction.”

I shook my head, perplexed, “I plan on having some people scout out the area. Have you any countermeasures as of yet?”

They looked at each other nonplussed, “You mean a countermeasure to an explosion?”

“No,” I answered levelly, “A countermeasure to keep them from exploding.”

“Ah, no.” Dr. Ross nodded, “That’s a good idea.”

“Mmm… give us some time?” Yaga cast an inquisitive glance to Dr. Ross, who nodded quickly, “Yes, some time. I’m certain something can be done.”

“Good, I need it immediately. I plan on having scouts further out looking for any more of these things. We do not need to be caught on the back foot with living explosives. At best, they’re solitary, at worst, we get a horde.” I sighed, “While Gilramore would probably be safe, I would much rather not put anyone outside of the walls in unnecessary risk.”

“Fair point.” Dr. Ross moved his fingers in the air, likely working with his Obelisk display. “I have a hunch we can work on, I would suggest checking back three or four days.”

“Try to do it in one, if it’s possible.” I requested, “If not, we’ll just have to be wary.”

“We’ll do our best.” Yaga nodded to me, turning to regard Dr. Ross as he continued interacting with the Obelisk.

After another minute of general confirmations, I excused myself from the lab. A day would be ideal, but that was for another reason. I wanted to have a reason to be done with the politics that I would be dealing with.

And, as I exited from the underground section, getting my first glimpse of open sky, I knew that I had my work cut out for me.

Not because of the brilliant way the sun shone out from the clouds, the ashes of the calamity that had befallen us finally clearing away. It also wasn’t the chill in the air, announcing that winter was falling fast.

It was the fact that in front of the facility rested a large, military grade ATV with assorted Legionnaires waiting all around it in an orderly fashion. Also, the fact that the side door was open, and the man that I had heard with my team standing there. He was adorned in a light-weight mesh suit, leaving his head exposed. The man’s gray hair and sharply kept decor was offset by his friendly looking sea-green eyes.

“Reaper, we met before, briefly, but allow me to introduce myself officially.” He stated, bowing his head slightly, “Derrick Faun, second of Doug Vanderhew, at your service.”