Security measures

She squeezed through the crack; she was fairly sure she’d dealt with the Eclipse outside, but there was always the chance of reinforcements.

On the far side was a large, circular metal wall. As she neared red lines lit up inside it, like the eyes of some long-dead god surveying her.

“Hold for identiscan,” a cold, inhuman voice said.

Aloy stopped. She didn’t know how she felt. “One of these again.” She’d come all this way to Maker’s End, hoping to stumble onto something new, and instead there was just another of these doors.

The lights shone, then dimmed. Aloy rolled her eyes; nothing. Of course.

As she turned, the voice spoke again.

“Match inconclusive. Repeating identiscan.”

She paused. Slowly, Aloy turned back, the red lights shining over her again. Her Focus displayed some projection, a helix, a face that was rather like hers, and a flickering percentage.

Whatever this was, it was old. That was readily apparent. It did not seem as adept at ‘scanning’ as it might once have been.

“Match inconclusive,” it said. “Please provide more to scan.”

What? She stared at the door as though glaring it down, and impassively it watched her back. She shifted, waiting for it to clarify.

“Ah, interesting,” said a different voice.

Him again. A stranger had been using her Focus to talk to her, guide her to potentially useful destinations. He did seem to know far more than he was saying.

“Old systems like this seem to collect data from what parts of the body they can observe, and use that to construct what the Old Ones called a genetic profile,” he said. “This one does not function as well as it might have then, I think it requires more information.”

“Does any of that mean anything?” Aloy said. He could be irritating.

“It needs to see more of your body,” the man said.

There wasn’t much that could catch Aloy off-guard, after her years and years of training. That, however, served rather well.

“Wh-what?!” she said.

“Skin tone, hair follicles, musculature,” the man said. “All things that can help construct the genetic profile. It just needs more information. It clearly seems to recognise you as a potential match, maybe if it saw more it would allow you entry.”

Aloy stared at the door. She wanted answers, she had ever since she’d learned there were questions to ask.

She gritted her teeth, then exhaled. Ok, she could work on this.

Like most of the Nora, Aloy wore only the hides she’d hunted, and what there was in the way of armour she could purchase. Slowly she bent down, stepping out of her boots and, after a moment’s thought, shrugging off her outer layer.

Her cheeks coloured slightly; coming from the cooler Sacred Lands, she never had this much skin on display. True, her current garb only left her arms bare and her shins, but it was still more than she was used to.

She lay her weapons atop her clothing, fully prepared to reclaim it.

The light shone again, and-

“Match inconclusive. Please provide more to scan.”

Again? Aloy fidgeted slightly, shivering in the cold air. She looked down at herself.

As with the rest of the Nora, particularly outcasts, underwear was a foreign concept for her. The means to fashion it had always been too much to bother with, meaning all she had on now was a couple of layers over her chest, and a couple more over her thighs. Both covered the same amount of skin.

There wasn’t any way to remove a garment without exposing something. Aloy felt herself flush deeper.

“Not happening,” she said dismissively.

She hurriedly reached for her clothes, fully intending to leave.

“Aloy!” the man connected to her focus snapped.

“There’ll be something else,” Aloy said.

“I can assure you, there isn’t,” he said. “I’ve searched these lands for longer than you, there are the barest handful of places that offer anything in the way of clues and few are more promising than this.”

“I’m not getting naked for it!” Aloy said.

“Grow up,” he said, audibly angered. “You are closer to the answers we both want than anyone since the Old Ones has ever been, the door wants to open for you, and you’re going to let a concern as trivial as modesty stop you?”

“I don’t see you going anything to get in,” Aloy said. “You’re happy to just hide where you are.”

“I’ve given up more than you know,” he said.

After a moment there was a flicker. Then, projected by her Focus, was an image of a tall, dark-skinned man. Probably Banuk if Aloy was to guess.

“My name is Sylens,” he said. “I’m not hiding. And I would give anything to stand where you are now, with the means to get inside, do you really have it in yourself to walk away?”

Aloy faltered.

She straightened slightly, regarding the cold gaze of the doorway. Damn him, Sylens was right, she couldn’t just walk away.

It would just be a few seconds. It had to be. She shifted a little, reaching for the bottom of her top.

“Don’t look,” she said, hating how pathetic her voice sounded.

Sylens didn’t answer. Some how she doubted he’d miss a second of this, whether it was watching the door open or watching the redheaded Nora expose herself.

Aloy pulled her top off over her head, nipples hardening as soon as they came in contact with the air. She flushed, feeling the cold eyes of the door look her over.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore what was happening, praying to the All-Mother she barely believed in that it would just end.

“Match inconclusive. Please provide more to scan.”

You’ve got to be kidding. Aloy faltered for a moment, arms crossing over her chest. Could she really-

Damn it, she had to. Hating the whimper that escaped her lips, Aloy stripped off her last garment, and straightened. She couldn’t cover herself with her arms, not if this thing needed to see her.

This had better work…

She stared straight ahead, challenging, as the light shone again.

That time it seemed to take forever, looking her up and down. Her face, her tits, seeming to linger there. And then lower, her cunt and the flame-red hair above it that left no doubt as to what it was seeing.

She wouldn’t cry. Aloy glared ahead, trying to focus on that. This was embarrassing, but she wasn’t going to cry, she was stronger than that.

“Genetic profile confirmed. Entry authorized. Greetings Dr Sobeck.”

There was the roar of ancient machinery, the hiss of long-sealed air escaping. Aloy barely noticed, barely listened to the words, scrabbling to get her clothes back.

“Finally,” Sylens said, voice low, through her Focus.

She hoped how… pleased he sounded was purely for the door opening. Her cheeks flushed at the fact he’d likely seen all of that.

She’d be happy if she never had to do that again.