[[ Clear ]]

"It would honestly be easier to list the things I can't remember than what I do," I say, and the Commander looks positively fascinated. At least I haven't disappointed him. "I don't remember what I was doing before April 17th, and I don't remember a whole lot about the First Rapture Invasion, either. There's a big chunk of history that's just... missing."

Nine seems to have the answer to that mystery, and unlike anyone else I've met so far, he has the desire to share what I don't know in the open.

"Consider this top secret; you're what's called a Pilgrim model. There are several types of Pilgrims, varying from ones made during the First Rapture Invasion, to ones made more recently who don't associate with the Big Three, made by outside sources. Most relevantly are those from the Pioneer Squad, whose models date back to the same era you do."

"Outside sources..." I mutter. But Nine's not finished talking.

"The main thing about these NIKKEs is that they do not have a limitless amount of memories. When it gets too full they risk Mind Switch, so they manually delete memories from certain time periods. Most erase modern years. As wanderers, this doesn't pose a problem to them per se, but it's certainly a bit of a sad cycle to be caught in. Anyway, what I'm getting at is... You also have limited memory space. I theorize you had too many memories and that's what triggered the Mind Switch you had, specifically, but I could be wrong. It would make sense for your memories to be in a sorry state after the fact though."

"If the mind switch was the result of too many memories, wouldn't losing some bring my memory space up to par and prevent another switch?"

"It probably would mean that. Which means you're safe for now. But knowing you're of the first few generations of NIKKEs will help us know how to proceed."

"This isn't the old commander's knowledge, is it? You've gotten this information from the game."

"That's correct. I probably... shouldn't be telling it to you, but I think it's necessary."

"... Then, I'll get back to telling you what I know." I pause, shutting my eyes.

In my vision's place, I can envision gritty, faded memories of a broken past.

"During the First Rapture Invasion, I was with a squad of male NIKKEs."

I hear Nine shift in his seat, resisting saying anything.

"We were called 'Mies,' which was an experimental counter to the project name for NIKKEs in the first place. There were five of us including me. I don't remember who created us. I understand that NIKKEs were made in response to the Raptures in general, but we were an extra-frills sort of experiment, if I remember correctly."

"... Clear?"

I'm stopped from my recollection. I open my eyes and look to Nine. "Yes?"

"... Out of curiosity, do you have any memories of yourself before you became a NIKKE?"

"...." I pause, digging deep. I squint my eyes for a moment and stare off. Nothing. "... I don't think I do. Why?"

"Nothing. Please, continue."

"I remember a little bit of combat with my squad. Mies was strong, but we were overshadowed by other squads across the world."

I feel myself sinking in the chair. This is where it gets fuzzy.

"I... can't remember who or what was our undoing, but I know something made it to where we were no longer a unit. Corruption was a real problem, and I think one, maybe more of us became that way, but I don't remember who or when. There was no cure for a unit like ours. As far as the world was concerned, we were an art project rather than the Goddess Squad, so priority to see if a cure was even viable wasn't on the table. I don't remember faces, names or even their personalities."

"I see."

"The next viable memory I have is waking up in that alleyway."

"You don't know how you got into the Ark?"

"No."

"You might have come from the Outer Rim. Do you know anything about that?"

"Not at all. But it is possible I did come from there. At least, that's more viable than appearing from thin air."

"Out in the Rim you could have blended in as a human a lot easier than out here."

"That is true. But, I don't remember anything, so..."

"... That's at least 80 years of memories gone, if not more."

"Yes," I nod softly. "It would seem so."

"Do you remember how you fought the Raptures? What weapon did you wield?"

"I don't know. I assume I've lost it. It was probably a gun, but of what make I couldn't tell you."

Nine seems to sink in his seat a little. "... I see."

There's a silence that lingers for some time. Nine seems to be mulling over the information I gave him with great intensity, and I'm simply recovering from straining myself to remember things at all. There were other memories I didn't mention, but that's because they were inconsequential. Moments of eating around a fire with my squad, random maintenance sessions, the works.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"... I think the Central Government has an eye on you," Nine finally says. "It's not obvious right now as you aren't such a quarry to warrant their special ops team Triangle to bust down our door, but they may or may not realize that you possess technology that has been lost to time and mass production. First and second generation NIKKEs are markedly more powerful than a modern NIKKE."

His words reach me and for a moment I'm a little stunned.

"I'm not going to update this report with what we've covered. I'm just going to keep the info in my head. If we put it down somewhere where the Central Government can access, we'll be in a world of trouble. If only we had someone we could trust... The main story Commander has Chief Deputy Andersen keeping things under wraps from the Central Government, but the man's realistically so busy we'd be laughed out of the building for asking to speak with him."

"We only have ourselves, then?"

"That's correct."

"..." The idea is disturbing, but if it's really the case, then I have no choice but to go with it. I'd rather not go under any microscopes so to speak, so the plan Nine has is sound enough for now.

Nine's phone chirps a small ringtone of a text received from Blabla, and he excuses himself to check it. His face pales lightly, and I'm compelled to ask him what the problem is. I already have an idea, though. Within seconds of reading the message, he announces the problem anyway, regardless of me asking.

"It's Magnolia."

"Oh?" Magnolia -- it's been a couple days. I wonder how things are holding up after the clown cover-up. A hand goes up to Nine's face subconsciously. I think he's remembering he has a bionic eye. I nearly forgot about it too.

"... She's asking how things are going. And she -- uh... Wants to go on another date. Good fuckin' gravy... What do I even tell her? I'm not a date kind of person, unlike the previous guy... I don't even know any locales here aside from Coin Rush, and I really don't wanna go to that place anytime soon..." He's halfway muttering to himself, halfway telling me directly. I can tell he doesn't want this to interrupt the therapy session, but even I know he can't ignore this text.

"At least she actually wants to go on another date after what happened the last time," I suggest. Nine seems to take that advice in stride.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's true. I'll... Think of something."

With a bit of reluctance, he taps a few buttons on his phone and begins to respond. I give him a moment. Once he's done, he chews on a nail waiting for a response. The generic blabla ringtone plays, and he exhales in relief.

"She says she'll come up with a place to go this time."

"Looks like you just need to sit back and relax, then, Commander."

He seems relieved, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms a little. He takes a moment to collect himself, then he looks to me.

"Let me get a look at how you stand."

"You mean how I can't stand."

"No, we're gonna talk about how you can, just with some work."

I don't find amusement in his logic, but I'll let it slide for now.

"Well, try to help me up, then," I invite.

Nine gets up from his chair, and moves without much thought over to me to get me on my feet. I reach down to my legs and dangle them over the footholds, letting my feet touch the floor with an unceremonious plop for each side.

"Do you have feeling in your lower half?"

"A little bit."

Nine seems a little encouraged by that. I can't fathom why.

"Alright, grab my hands."

I'm letting him have his fun for now. I take his hands, which are barely calloused at all, soft and unworn by time, and he steadies himself. I begin to pull myself up, watching his expression while I do so. It happens in a flash, really; his face goes from neutral to pure dumbfounded shock before he falls forward from my force. I'm immensely heavy -- I'm a NIKKE after all -- so the force from my weight contending with his unprepared stance was too great for him to stay standing. The man tumbles into me as I fall back into my wheelchair, and we roll halfway across the office in a fashion that I'm sure is rather funny to anybody from the outside of this situation looking in. I catch him to keep him from sliding off, and for a moment he sits there in surprise.

"Right," he says, a bit dazed. "You're a NIKKE."

"Yes, I am," I reply. "Are you sure you want to keep trying?"

"... Yeah," he says surprisingly after a moment of consideration. "Just let me prepare myself this time."

He scrambles off of me and his cheeks are a little red, presumably from the exertion of dealing with my weight. He straightens himself up, pops his back, stretches a touch, and takes a deep breath. "This is gonna suck..." He mutters.

"You don't have to do this."

"No, I need to. Okay, take my hands again, and pull yourself up."

"This isn't going to work, but... Alright."

I take his hands again. The man's taking a heavier stance now, one that might actually support my weight if he really believed in himself. I try to be gentle, but do pull myself up with the strength I have; it's not hard, but what is difficult is the noises Nine is making trying to support my weight. He's grunting heavily, and I worry just a touch that I might actually hurt him. His stance is shaky, but holding up. His face is growing absolutely red. I'm lifting myself up, though. My legs are non operational, but that doesn't mean they can't support my weight if I get them just right with the knees locked. I'm aiming for that, if only to please Nine. I shift my grip quickly to putting my arms over Nine's shoulders and clasping my hands behind his neck. We're really close right now.

For the first time since my memories from the First Rapture Invasion, I'm at full height. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed with it, but I'd also be over-exaggerating the significance of such a development.

"Hah... Haah... Y-you're... You're up!"

I'm rather close to his face, but the man's just a touch taller than me, so he's looking down at me a touch.

"I won't be able to stand on my own, though, Commander," I report, as though to kill any ideas. He's absolutely trembling, exerting himself to keep me upright. If nothing else, I admire his gusto, but this probably isn't good for his back...

"Mmmmggh....!"

I release my hold, and he stumbles back shakily. He bumps against his desk and heaves in a few breaths, hunching over. I really could have hurt him...

...

... Oh, I'm standing.

I stand in place for a few more seconds with my knees locked, but the moment I change even the slightest position of my body, I'm down like a house of cards. I crumble to the floor and land on my ass with a loud thud.

... Ouch.

"... I told you Commander, I have no functionality in my legs."

"Sure you do," he argues, and I'm beginning to think the man is actually a little crazy. "... You said you can feel a little bit. That means the pain sensors are still working. There is hope!"

...

"... I suppose, Commander."

I can see where the man is coming from, but have no idea where to begin in telling him that this may just be hopeless.

"They've done maintenance on you, right?"

"Yes. I had maintenance done when I was first recovered."

"And they recovered no electronic or systemic issue?"

"None they could repair, no."

"This is all psychological then, right?"

"... I couldn't say," I decide.

"Well, I will then; this has to be psychological as a result of your Mind Switch. It's just a matter of seeing if it's reversible."

"I see."

He's working himself up again, but something tells me to not shoot him down. I really should be rallying with him, but I can't bring myself to do it. My emotions aren't very strong compared to other NIKKEs it seems, so I'm stuck simply sitting here while Nine rattles on about his theories on how to fix things. I'm sure this is part of my inability to walk, but I can't say I know any solution other than to simply stop being the way I'm being, which is easier said than done. I let off a sigh through my nose and work to pull myself back into my wheelchair from the floor.

Does he really think he can actually fix me?

[[ CHAPTER 17 END ]]