Chapter 3: Stranded.

The Abyss Stares Back

Chapter 3: Stranded.

Nathaniel

Europa.

I felt like I was falling.

Not through the air, like in those dreams where you jolt awake before you hit the ground. Not through space, like in the stranger ones that leave you disoriented for hours.

No. This was something else entirely.

I was sinking, weightless yet crushingly heavy, dragged into a void so deep and endless that it didn’t feel empty... it felt full, a paradox that defied reason of the Void as I used to know. I didn’t know how I knew what this place was, but deep inside me, I understood.

Then, the world snapped into place.

I was somewhere else.

Someone else.

The battlefield stretched before me, endless and red, not the soft glow of a sunset, not the rich hues of the evening sky but red from blood. The ground was slick with it, bodies piled like discarded wreckage, smoke and ash twisting in the air. The scent of ozone and scorched metal mixed with the unmistakable stench of death.

I shouldn’t have known what death smelled like.

Even if I had lived in Brockton Bay my entire life. I had never seen a dead body before. Not really. But now? The scene before me felt familiar. Like I belonged.

I was moving… no. He was moving.

It wasn’t me. But it was.

My head ached as I tried to make sense of it, trying to fight against whatever force was pulling me deeper.

A figure clad in black and gold armor strode forward, stepping over corpses like they were nothing—like they had never mattered. His posture was perfect, his steps effortless yet deliberate—inhuman, predatory.

The blade gleamed as it was drawn, humming with power. A single, fluid motion. Faster than my mind could follow.

Blood erupted in front of me.

A Grineer—the word surfaced in my mind unbidden, as natural as breathing—stood before me. Then he wasn’t. His head separated from his body in an instant, a geyser of crimson spraying into the air.

Grineer. The name wasn’t one I should know, but I knew it. Like I knew, the armored corpses scattered across the battlefield weren’t human.

What the fuck was happening?

Another Grineer lunged, machete raised high. He swung—too slow.

I… he… stepped inside the strike, an effortless dodge. The blade missed. Mine didn’t.

The high-frequency sword crackled with energy as it drove into the Grineer’s chest, piercing the paper-like armor. The clone gurgled, blood spilling from his lips, then collapsed with a groan.

It didn’t bother me.

The stench of death? The warmth of fresh blood on my armor? Nothing.

It was just another mission.

Nothing more.

A flicker of motion caught my attention—gunfire.

I turned my head just slightly, just enough. The bullets missed. The blade in my hands moved in a circular arc, and every shot that should have ended me split apart midair.

That shouldn’t be possible.

I had seen shitty action movies before. The kind my dad used to love, where heroes dodged bullets like it was easy. Deflecting bullets with a blade was not something that should be possible. A single one? Maybe, but the venerable rain of bullets I destroyed with a flick of my sword? Not at all.

But this wasn’t a movie.

This was real.

And yet… I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t even breathing hard.

Then, more came. Waves of them.

They surged forward in impossible numbers, endless and ravenous. The Grineer—genetic clones built to wage wars they didn’t understand. The Corpus—soulless profiteers, wielding technology as their scripture.

I was alone.

And yet, they didn’t turn on each other. They turned on me.

A good plan. If they were capable of executing it.

I screamed.

Not in fear.

In rage.

I could feel my blood thrumming, something ancient stirring within me.

One moment, I was standing.

The next, I was tearing through them.

They called me a demon child.

I didn’t care.

Bodies fell around me, limbs severed, throats opened, the battlefield reduced to a canvas painted in blood. The battlefield was my Mona Lisa, and I was the Leonardo da Vinci of the Origin System.

I wasn’t just fighting.

I was butchering them.

My armor burned with eldritch green light, tendrils of energy draining the life from those who dared to strike me. They tried. Again and again. They failed.

I was immortal.

I was The Revenant.

Later.

I gasped awake.

My body jerked violently as I coughed, lungs burning as though I had been suffocating. My arms trembled, my skin slick with sweat.

I wasn’t in armor. I wasn’t on a battlefield.

It was me.

Nathaniel.

The cold metal beneath me was unfamiliar. And it felt even colder against my damp skin. I was absolutely drenched.

My muscles ached like I had spent hours training, running, fighting.

But that wasn’t possible.

I sucked in a slow breath, trying to center myself. What the fuck was that?

I ran my hands over my body, searching for wounds, for scars that shouldn’t be there. Nothing.

Then I looked at my stomach—and froze.

Muscle.

Toned. Defined.

I had never looked like this before.

A sick twist of fear coiled in my gut.

That wasn’t a dream.

The memories surfaced again, unbidden.

The Merchants. The attack. My mother who is still in danger. The greasy bastard who had stabbed me.

I jolted forward, hands flying to my stomach—but the wound wasn’t there. I remember vividly the stab of that fucker, the pinprick on my neck when he injected me with something. But I felt fine. Better than ever.

No blood. No pain. Nothing.

Only… this new body.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself upright. My breath was shaky, my thoughts spiraling.

I had to go home.

I had to find my mom.

I reached for my pocket, my heart thudding as my fingers wrapped around the smooth shape of my phone. I yanked it out, my hands shaking, and my mind racing.

I needed to call the police.

If my mom was dealing with the Merchants, she’d get in trouble. But at least she’d be alive to shout at me. At least she’d be safe.

I clicked the screen.

No signal.

My stomach dropped.

Just where the fuck was I?

I looked up, scanning my surroundings for the first time—

And my breath caught in my throat.

Beyond the cracked, ruined metal of the walls, beyond the shattered remains of what I now knew was a ship, the view stretched into an icy wasteland.

Endless white.

Europa. The name came into my mind, but I never paid attention in class so I had no idea where it was exactly. I never regretted ignoring my classes as much as I did now.

This wasn’t home.

This wasn’t anywhere I recognized.

My fists clenched instinctively, nails digging into my palms as I fought to suppress the panic clawing at the edges of my mind. Think. Focus. There had to be a way back—a way out of this nightmare.

A chill ran down my spine.

Something shifted in the room. The already dim lighting of the ruined ship seemed to darken, and shadows stretched and twisted unnaturally along the walls.

Then, I felt it.

Not a person. Not a presence. Something else.

I turned. And there he was. Me, or something that looked like me. The exact figure that butchered the merchants in the store. The one that … saved me? I wasn’t sure of that. There was something about him that screamed danger. That I should keep an eye on him.

But I was powerless, wasn't I? I was a normal person. I wasn't a cape capable of defeating this being that butchered my attackers.

The figure stood casually near the broken console, arms crossed, grinning like he had been here the whole time. His face was mine, but not. The features were the same, but his eyes—they were just wrong.

Too bright. Too hungry.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted smoothly, voice laced with amusement that irked me. "Welcome to the world of the living. I was afraid I’d done something wrong. The last time I did something like this was centuries ago."

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as if studying me like a fascinating little experiment.

Every instinct in my body screamed wrong.

I stumbled back, my breath coming out ragged. My heart pounded like a war drum, muscles locking up as pure, unfiltered fear gripped my chest.

"W-What the fuck—" My voice cracked, but I forced it out. "Who the fuck are you?!"

His grin widened.

"Oh, good. You’re already asking questions. You’re adjusting faster than I expected." He gave a mock bow, and his posture was easy and casual. "That’s good. We don’t want you breaking before the fun even starts."

I clenched my fists.

There was fear, yes, but something else burned beneath it.

Anger.

I didn’t know what was happening, and I didn’t know where I was, but I was done being confused.

I took a sharp step forward. "Start talking. Now."

The Man in the Wall—The Void, my mind whispered—just chuckled.

"Alright, alright," he said, lifting his hands as if placating me. Mocking but not outright cruel. "I do owe you an explanation, don’t I?"

I didn’t know what to think about this.

He took a lazy step toward me. My body tensed.

He grinned wider like he enjoyed my reaction.

"You almost died, kiddo."

The words slammed into me like a hammer.

"What?" I whispered softly.

"Oh, don’t look so surprised," The Void personified sighed, rolling his eyes. "You were bleeding out on a store, barely clinging to life, all because of some low-life drug peddlers and a mother who made terrible choices." He chuckled. "Tragic, really. It was filth that they injected you. You should try Kuva sometime."

My blood boiled.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, stepping forward again, fists shaking.

The being laughed.

"Ah, there it is," he mused, eyes glinting. "That wonderful little fire of yours. That’s why I picked you, kiddo."

He took another step closer, his voice dropping into something almost soft, almost gentle.

"Because my dear little war god needed a successor."

"…What?" I gaped at him. Nothing made sense, but it did.

The Man in the wall grin never faltered, but there was something in his eyes now. Something deeper.

Huh… another name. Just what the fuck was he? Because I was sure as fuck this wasn’t a cape. I could feel it in my blood. Something new in my body almost sang just by being in his presence.

"Hayes. Your predecessor. The one whose memories you just got a little sneak peek of." He waved a hand lazily. "He was dying. Got swallowed by a nasty little Void storm. But before he kicked the bucket, he called in a favor. I owed him. And i'm someone who pays his debts."

I swallowed, my throat dry.

"What favor?"

"You." The single word hit me like a gunshot.

I took a step back, shaking my head. "No. No, that’s... That’s bullshit. That’s—"

"Oh, but it’s not," Wally interrupted smoothly, eyes flashing with something like delight. "I was there, kiddo. I saw it. His last request, his final plea: ‘Find someone worthy.’ And guess what?"

His smirk turned almost fond.

"You were the best option in the world."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"The best candidate out of all the little insects crawling across this broken planet." He chuckled. "Isn’t that something? You, a nobody from nowhere, caught my interest. The last time something like this happened I birthed Chaos across the system."

He tapped his temple, his smirk never fading. "You should be flattered."

My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

"This— This isn’t real," I muttered, more to myself than him. "This is just a nightmare. Some— Some psychotic hallucinations. I just need to—"

The lidless eye sighed.

"Kiddo, you’re standing in a spaceship on a moon that isn’t Earth," he said dryly. "At what point does ‘hallucination’ stop being your go-to excuse?"

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting.

"You’re lying," I whispered.

His grin widened. "Am I?"

I didn’t answer.

Because deep down, I already knew the truth.

The memories. The strength in my body. The armor. The way I had moved, fought... killed.

I wasn’t Nate Vasquez anymore.

I was something else.

Something more.

Wally studied me for a moment longer, then gave a low chuckle. "You’ll figure things out soon enough, kiddo."

I gritted my teeth. "And what if I don’t want this?"

Wally just shrugged. "Doesn’t matter. It’s already done. There is nothing you or anyone else can do anything to change the past, kiddo. There is no Rell in this world to hinder my fun."

My breath hitched.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to demand answers, to get something solid out of this cryptic bastard.

But it’s? His? Expression shifted.

Something changed.

The shadows in the room seemed to pulse, bending toward him, like reality itself was drawn to his presence. His grin softened, losing none of its edge.

"Don’t get too lost in the details, kiddo," he said, voice almost amused, almost comforting. "You’ll figure out what to do soon enough. I’ll be watching your journey."

A flicker of movement—

He was gone.

Like he had never been there.

The ship felt colder without him. The silence was deafening, my breath too loud in the empty space.

A sudden ping echoed through the air.

The console flickered. Lights hummed to life.

And then, from the speakers, a voice crackled.

"Oh! Operator? Is that you?!"

I jumped, spinning toward the sound.

The voice was frantic, distorted, and filled with static glitches and overlapping tones.

"Oh, this is— This is quite irregular! You appear to be in perfect condition despite the— OH DEAR. THE SHIP! IT'S— IT'S IN SHAMBLES! I—I must repair it at once! Oh, but first— INTRODUCTIONS!"

The voice cleared for just a moment, and I caught the name.

"I am Ordis, your loyal Cephalon! And you, Operator— You are awake! This is wonderful!"

I stared, still trying to catch up.

What. The. Fuck.

“What is a Cephalon?” I asked slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

The voice—Ordis, it had called itself—hesitated momentarily before responding, sounding both eager and slightly frantic.

"A Cephalon Operator is a sophisticated artificial intelligence designed to manage ships, process data, and assist in critical operations! Oh! And, of course, to serve its Operator in all necessary functions!"

The way it spoke was… unsettling. Too enthusiastic, too eager, and yet fractured, like someone speaking through layers of static. There was something wrong with him. The most confusing thing was the feeling I got when I heard it's voice. Happiness... trust... friendship.

I rubbed my temples, trying to fight off the headache forming behind my eyes. This was too much. I had woken up in a place I didn’t recognize, with a being that scared the living shit out of me, in a body that clearly was mine but at the same time changed, and memories of slaughtering monsters in a war I never fought.

I swallowed thickly. "Okay… so you're some kind of ship AI?"

"Yes! Yes! Oh, thank the Void! Operator, you are beginning to understand! This is—oh. Oh dear. I must apologize for the current condition of the Orbiter! It is quite in ruins, I am afraid! And—OH NO! I AM MALFUNCTIONING! THERE ARE HOLES IN MY MEMORY BANKS!"

The voice glitched sharply, shifting between clear, panicked words and warped, corrupted static.

I winced, pressing a hand against my ear as if that would help. "Calm down," I said, though my own voice sounded anything but. "Just... slow down. You're saying this ship is called the Orbiter?"

The voice stabilized slightly, but I could still hear the cracks in it.

"Yes, Operator! This is your Orbiter! A Warframe-class transport vessel designed to serve the needs of a Tenno warrior!"

I tensed.

There was that word again.

Tenno.

I had heard it before, but not in my voice.

It had come from him. From the memories that weren’t mine. From Caelum Hayes.

A pit formed in my stomach.

"What," I forced the words out, "the hell is a Tenno?"

Silence.

For a moment, I thought the Cephalon had broken entirely.

Then, Ordis spoke again, his voice softer.

"Operator... you are Tenno."

My mouth went dry.

"No," I said immediately, shaking my head. "I'm not. I'm just—I'm just a normal guy. I live in Brockton Bay. I work at a corner store. I—"

"You were."

Ordis’ voice cut through my denial with absolute certainty.

"But the moment The Lidless Eye placed his mark upon you, the moment he passed the Void’s touch into your very being… you ceased to be what you were."

I felt my fingers curl into fists.

"You are Tenno now, Operator. Whether you wish to be or not."

The words hung heavy in the air.

I forced myself to take a slow, shaky breath.

"Alright," I said at last. "Then tell me."

I met the ship’s darkened console as if looking at the AI in the nonexistent eyes.

"Tell me what being a Tenno means."

Ordis didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched just long enough to make me wonder if the ship’s AI had finally broken down for good.

Then, his voice returned, still with that same eagerness but an undertone that felt… reverent.

“A Tenno is… the hand of the Void, the blade unseen, the warrior that moves through shadow and flame alike. You are what remains of an era long past, a lineage of warriors who wield the power of the Void itself. Your kind ended empires, shattered civilizations, and stood against horrors that would have devoured the stars.”

I swallowed hard, and my throat closing up. The way he spoke wasn’t just informative—it was like he was reciting something sacred.

“You were trained as weapons,” Ordis continued, his voice glitching slightly, “but… but you were never meant to be just that. The Tenno was more. Are more. Though you are the only one here now.”

I felt my stomach twist. “I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve never trained for anything. I don’t know how to fight like that. I don’t know how to use any—” I stopped myself. That wasn’t true, was it?

The memory of the battlefield was still fresh in my mind, too vivid to dismiss as a dream. I had moved like I had trained for years. I had fought with a skill I never should have had.

The worst part? It had felt natural.

Ordis picked up on my hesitation immediately. “The knowledge is inside you, Operator. The memories may not be yours, but the instincts? The reflexes? They are part of you now. Passed from the greatest warrior to another.”

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. It was too much. This entire situation was impossible, yet I couldn’t deny what I had seen or felt.

“So let’s say I believe you,” I muttered. “That I’m some kind of space ninja warrior now because of this… Void or whatever. What do I do now? Because I need to get back home. My mom—”

The console flickered, the lights in the ship dimming momentarily before stabilizing. When Ordis spoke again, he sounded almost… cautious.

“Operator, I must inform you that you are currently on Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons.”

I blinked. “I— What?”

Europa. Not Earth. It's not even remotely close to where I was supposed to be.

My fingers tightened around my useless phone. “No, that’s— That’s not possible. I was just in Brockton Bay. How the hell did I end up on a moon?”

Ordis hesitated, then said, “The Orbiter was pulled through a collapsing Void storm. Your arrival here is… anomalous.”

Anomalous.

Yeah, no shit.

I let out a frustrated breath and turned away from the console, pacing a few steps before forcing myself to stop. Panicking wouldn’t get me anywhere. Neither would denial.

“Alright,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “Then how do I get back?”

The ship hummed softly beneath my feet.

“That… will take some time.”

Of course, it would.

I clenched my jaw, trying to push back the rising frustration. My mom was still in danger. The Merchants were still after her, and I was stuck light-years away on some frozen rock.

But if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that sitting around and freaking out wasn’t going to solve anything.

I turned back to the console. “Then tell me what I need to do.”

Ordis beeped, sounding almost relieved. “Yes! Of course, Operator! We must assess the Orbiter’s remaining functionality! There may be salvageable systems we can restore, but—oh! There is also the matter of your Warframe!”

My breath hitched slightly. “My what?”

“The Warframe, Operator! Your combat exosuit! The tool of every Tenno warrior! You must retrieve it immediately so you can help with the repair!”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Still, before I could voice my skepticism, a memory surged, overwhelming my original thoughts.

It was just like before. It was clearly a memory of my predecessor, but I lived it like it was my own. It was Hayes, but also me. We were one.

A warzone torn apart by gunfire and firestorms of energy. Corpus walkers stomped through the wreckage, their weapons blazing, plasma bolts carving through the ruined landscape. Drone swarms hovered overhead, unleashing suppression beams and locking down my movements.

And there, standing in the middle of it all, was him.

No. It was me.

I wasn’t like before. No longer the elegant wraith cutting through enemies with inhuman speed. This time, I was something else entirely.

A monolith of steel, my warframe thick and plated, copper-colored, shining under the dim sky. Where before I had moved with the grace of a predator, now I stood like an immovable force, an unbreakable titan.

The Corpus gunners adjusted, switching tactics as they unleashed everything they had at me.

It didn’t matter.

The bullets clanged off my armor like raindrops. Energy blasts fizzled uselessly against the shielding. Even the massive, quadrupedal robots tried to unload their firepower—and still, I didn’t move.

Then I took a step forward.

And another.

The ground cracked beneath my feet, a warning of what was coming. I/Hayes was so confident that I didn't feel any danger against the massive group of the legion before me.

The Corpus forces must have sensed it, too, because suddenly, they weren’t advancing anymore.

They were retreating. But it was too late.

The moment I stomped my foot down, the world shattered.

The earth split apart, shockwaves rippling outward with the force of an earthquake. The air itself rippled, distorting as raw, kinetic force ripped through reality.

And time was disrupted.

The explosions froze mid-detonation. Shrapnel hung motionless in the air. Energy beams that had been ripping toward me locked in place, frozen like lines of light suspended in a crystal.

Everything halted.

Everything except me.

I moved forward, casually stepping through the frozen storm of destruction. I grabbed a Corpus soldier midair, still locked in a desperate retreat, and crushed his helmet with one hand.

Then, the bloodshed continued until reality reasserted itself.

Everything rushed forward at once.

The shockwave detonated outward, sending debris and bodies flying like ragdolls. The very ground collapsed beneath the impact, forming a crater where I was.

Once locked in coordinated formation, hundreds of enemies were reduced to scattered remnants of a no longer-existing force.

The battlefield fell silent.

I exhaled, shrugging my shoulders.

More were coming.

And just like that, the memory ended.

I staggered backward, nearly losing my balance. My pulse hammered in my ears, my breathing ragged as I tried to process what the hell I had just seen.

That wasn’t just strength. That was absurd.

Disrupting time just with the force of a stomp? Walking through gunfire like it was a gentle breeze?

I wasn’t sure what terrified me more—the fact that something like that was possible or that I had just experienced it like I had done it myself.

I swallowed hard, shaking off the lingering echoes of the battle.

Ordis, unaware of my internal crisis, chimed in enthusiastically.

“Oh! That was quite the memory surge! I imagine you are experiencing some residual effects of Transference bleed, but do not worry, Operator! The body remembers what the mind does not! With your first synchronization, you will feel right at home.”

I barely heard him.

Because for the first time since waking up, something hit me like a freight train.

I had seen what Hayes could do.

And if what Ordis was saying was true…

That meant I could do it, too.

As I steadied myself, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the cracked console. For a moment, I didn’t see myself—I saw a mix of Hayes and I. And I knew there was no turning back.

"Tell me what to do, Ordis," I said firmly. I had to return as soon as possible and save my mom.