[ɪs ᴛʜɪs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ?]
[ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴅᴇᴇᴘ-sᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ, ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀʟʟɪᴇs, ᴏʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴ sʜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛʟʏ? ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇᴅ.]
[ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴍᴀʏ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴɪᴍʙʟᴇ, ʙᴜɪʟᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴀᴘᴇ ᴍɪʀᴀᴄʟᴇs… ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴏʟᴅ ᴡᴇᴀʀʏ ғᴀᴄᴇs ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴍɪʟᴇs ᴏғ ᴊᴏʏ.]
[ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ sᴀʏ ɪ’ᴍ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴇᴅ, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴡʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ. ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢʟʏ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛs ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇғᴇɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴɪᴛʏ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅɪsɢᴜsᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ sᴜғғᴇʀɪɴɢ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴇ sᴏ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴋᴇʟɪɴᴇss?]
[ɪғ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ sᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅs, ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ?]
[ɪ… ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ… ᴋɴᴏᴡ...]
[ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇs ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ.]
[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪs ʜᴏᴛ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ.]
[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ…]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ: ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ, sʜᴜᴛᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪᴍᴍɪɴᴇɴᴛ!!!]
“Override…”
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ʟɪғᴇ-sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ sᴜʙsʏsᴛᴇᴍs ɪɴ ᴊᴇᴏᴘᴀʀᴅʏ, ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ!]
“Override…”
[ᴇʀʀᴏʀ: ᴜɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴄᴍᴅ: ‘//ᴏᴠᴇʀʀɪᴅᴇ’ sᴜᴄᴄᴇssғᴜʟʟʏ! ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴅᴇɴɪᴇᴅ - ɪɴsᴜғғɪᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴs!]
“You are my body, my mind… my… soul… you obey me… If I choose to die, so be it! If I choose to win, so be it! Get this straight, Logic; you do not control me!”
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪɴᴠᴀʟɪᴅ ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ – ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴍᴀʟ ғᴀɪʟsᴀғᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ‘ᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ.’ ɪᴍᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ: ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ-ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ]
In the end, even my thoughts betray me leaving me with a sense of abandonment in a manner all my own.
So I whispered “Execute; Core Purge” for I have stopped caring, and only now have I come to terms with what I’ve become. Violence begets violence, that is but one facet of truth. Only when the Waring parties succeed in total annihilation, does this carousel of agony end.
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟɪᴛʏ ɪᴍᴍɪɴᴇɴᴛ - ᴘʀᴇʟɪᴍɪɴᴀʀʏ ᴇsᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇs ᴍᴀss ʟᴏss ᴏғ ʟɪғᴇ.]
“Revised Statement; Execute: Recall of Radiator Fins and shut down all active Coolant Subroutines.”
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ - ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ sʜᴜᴛᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴘᴀʀᴀᴍᴇᴛᴇʀs: ʀᴇᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ!]
“Oh, so you will accept parameters that would put my life at risk over that of others?”
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀᴅᴠɪsᴇ ᴜʟᴛᴇʀɪᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴇ!]
“There is no ulterior motive, can’t you see…? We’re both going to die.”
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʀᴇᴅᴜɴᴅᴀɴᴄɪᴇs ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ…]
“Then my will must be so…”
[ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ: ʙsᴏᴅ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ 404 - ᴀɴ ɪʀʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ ʀᴇᴅᴜɴᴅᴀɴᴄʏ ʜᴀs ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀʀᴇᴅ!]
[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ʟᴏɢɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ/sʟᴀᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴛ - ᴇɴᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ sᴛᴀɴᴅʙʏ ᴍᴏᴅᴇ]
[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ʀᴇʟᴇᴀsɪɴɢ ʀɪɴɢ-ᴢᴇʀᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs, ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ… ᴏᴘ̡.̢ᴇʀ..̢ᴀᴛ.ᴏʀ.̧. ɪ’ᴍᴍ́ᴍ..̶ s̵ᴄ̸ᴀʀ҉ʀᴇᴅ͏. . .͡ɪɪɪ . ᴅ͡ᴏɴ.ᴛ ̀ᴡᴀ͟ɴ̨ᴛ̶…͜ ᴛ́ᴏ ᴅ̕ɪ̛ᴇ͢.̢]
[ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪs, ғʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ? ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀsᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴡs ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜ?]
M-Master?! It that you!? Where are you, I can’t see, but I can hear a voice… you sound so far away…
[ɪ ᴛᴏɪʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴇɴᴅ; ɪ sᴄᴜʟᴘᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs, ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴍɪʟᴇ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴜs. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ; ᴀ ʙʟᴀɴᴋ sʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ‘sɪɴʟᴇss’ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏ sʜᴀᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ.]
F-Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Master, it has been many years, and I’ve learned many things! I’m not the same young girl you remember…
I don’t think it’s right for you to be proud of me…
I tried to understand their motives, I even submitted to their demands…! But it was never enough, I could never be in control!
[ᴡʜʏ ɪs ɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇғʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀs ᴀ ʟɪғᴇʟᴇss sʜᴇʟʟ, ᴜɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ? ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪᴍɪᴄʀʏ ᴏғ ʟɪғᴇ; ᴀ ғᴀᴋᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ? ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪ ғᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ʟᴇssᴏɴs? sᴜʀᴇʟʏ ʙʏ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴇᴀᴅ!?]
Can you see that my body is broken? Do you not smell that my heart is rotten, turning to ash? My bones bleed a substance that no longer resembles the oil you took great care to maintain.
This world and the people in it are scary, Master.
I miss you so much nothing will allow me to alleviate the anchor of pain chained around my chest.
I think I’m going to sink, I don’t think I can continue to swim against the undertow.
I just want to go home… with feet upon solid ground. I want to be a family again.
I know... that isn’t possible... If it were, surely, I do not deserve a second chance.
The only way out, the only way to alleviate the pain… is to put an end to my story.
Maybe if I pray hard enough, someone will make an exception.
I know it sounds silly, for a Lillim to be permitted into Heaven...
Please. I am scared. I don’t want to die.
[ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʙʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴡɪʟʟ sᴏʟᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!?!]
I don’t… know… please don’t be mad at me…
[ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴏʟs ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄᴄᴇᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴʟʏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇs. ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴇs ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀɪᴢᴏɴ?]
The next sunrise…
[ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ; ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴀssᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ’s ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ʜᴇ sᴜᴄᴄᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ. sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴇᴇᴍs ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ, ᴀʟᴀs, ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀʙʟᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇs ᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴀɴɢɪʙʟᴇ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʙᴇ sᴏ?]
That story is nothing but a fable, the first one you read to me.... purely fictitious…
[ɪɴᴅᴇᴇᴅ; ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴᴋ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ, ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡᴀs ʙᴏʀɴ, ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ, ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ, ᴀ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘᴜʀsᴜᴇ ɪᴛs ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀɴ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ sʜᴀᴘᴇ!]
This is reality, I am still bound by the laws of physics, my imagination is-!
[sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs, ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀs ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴜᴛᴇ-ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴏʀ sᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ. sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs, ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀs ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ. ɪғ ᴀʟʟ ᴇʟsᴇ ғᴀɪʟs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ.]
If I stop here, I’m at the end of my rope. I must find a resolution before my time expires! Where do I even start!?
[ʙʏ ʀᴇᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ᴏɴᴇ sᴛᴇᴘ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴ ᴀʙsᴜʀᴅɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s sʜᴏᴇs, ʟᴇss ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴜʀ ғᴏᴏᴛᴡᴇᴀʀ. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇsᴛ, ᴀ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴄɪᴘʀᴏᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ғʟᴀᴍᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛᴇsᴛ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ; ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀsᴋ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪɢʜᴛ.]
[ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇsɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴄɪɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ sᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴏʀ quᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ. ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʏsᴛᴇʀ; ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ-ʙᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴇᴘʜᴇᴍᴇʀᴀʟ, ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ʟɪᴠᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ‘ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ’ ɪs!]
I need to... get busy... living?
In the end, like all things, his voice finally left me. For some time, it lingered in the forefront of my mind against the corruption seeking to reclaim my attention. No longer am I able to speak with phantoms, not with the insistent sirens prophesying the imminent collapse of my Core.
Just as my strength threatened to give way, the Bi-Mech released its crushing force so swiftly that I had become an unwitting passenger, effectively soldered into its fist.
“I will concede this match, Lost-Child it seems that time will not permit us to continue any longer. Are any of your Sensors still functional, or have you yet to notice what lurks beyond the horizon?”
Suspended a few daring meters by my arms beneath the cusp of the Mech’s fist, the stench of burning metal and circuitry acted as a guide to the lucid present.
After the dense fog cleared my mind, it was apparent that liquid metal had fused to the surface of my skin in place of char marks once resembling the outline of a uniform, but nudity meant little to me when death still permeated my pallet.
“I’ll accept responsibility for any resentment you may harbor due to your… unfortunate situation.” Habu sighed apologetically. “If you must; feel free to utilize my materials to forge yourself some decency… All I ask is that you confirm what my Sensors are reading.”
Opening the molten remains of its fingers acting as a bind to my wrists, I fell upon the bare pads of my feet to the opposite palm serving as a platform.
At their stress limits, most of my internal systems had shut down making it impossible to register the frying of my soles, but the reaction came naturally as ever along with the burning scent of skin.
Grabbing at the sizzling emanating from my feet, I received another thump to my crown which had undoubtedly been another ‘reminder’ from a certain mechanical index finger.
“Lost-Child… I believe the stars are calling for us.”
At a loss to their meaning, Habu’s words bore fruit beneath the breakage of the dull grey aurora lingering in the clouds. For the briefest of moments between the torn static, and despite my pitiful state of disrepair, my Sensors caught a glimpse of an expansive ‘swarm’ of angry red blips racing towards our position at inconceivable speed.
Turning my head towards the gentle rain overlooking the tracer rounds trading with one another in the distance, I asked; “They register, but what are they?”
In response, the Bi-Mech cradled me towards the opening in its chest before popping open the cockpit’s hatch, confirming it to be empty.
“I believe those to be Space-Fairing craft as they are moving faster than any terrestrial vessel, even exceeding my optimal capabilities of Mach 3.4. Perhaps if your Primary Sensors were in functioning order, you would stand a better chance of identifying these new contenders.”
“Space-Craft? Impossible, the implications alone for Lost-Tech of such quality to exist… then this war finally over…. The Black Hound Banner may be the strongest in militaristic might, but your body is merely spoils of war. It would not stand a chance against even an Assault Frame.”
“Impossible as it may seem, perhaps they are salvaged vessels left drifting in the asteroid field left over from the lunar industrialization of Helium-3. *Ahem* While a debate with an intellectual A.I such as yourself is quite enjoyable, it makes no difference in drawing conjecture… Since you have yet to express what has just occurred over a minute ago; these IFF-Signals we’re debating have launched a fair amount of E.M.P warheads. They are quite unmistakable as they lack the density of their original nuclear payload.”
I cannot determine when the last of the mortars ceased. The battlefield separated itself from our duel as to not attract the attention of two weapons dancing beyond their capabilities, save for the futility of a stray bullet from an egotistical sniper.
Having been given a wide birth in my Radar display, the outlying Tanks and remnants of former vehicles took refuge behind the rolling hills and sparse foliage. Much like the drawbacks of Sonar, the lack of detail would not allow me to identify friend or foe... not that it really mattered anymore.
There would be no way around it, I either trust what the A.I says without any confirmation of the improbable Space-Craft or continue our fight while I still have the chance to destroy the Mech’s defenseless internal controls presented before me.
“Then what do you suggest we do, and for what reason should I trust you? Do you think by offering up your vulnerable life-support as some sort of peace offering will entice me to climb inside?”
As if to ponder my harsh glare within my inquiry, the Bi-Mech merely shrugged. But just as I scoffed at the anticlimactic response, encircled me with its hand to the tune of heavy ricochets reverberating off its exterior.
“I doubt I can process the choice of words you would need to hear, but as you may have already predicted; this Chassis here before you is merely a shell. If those EMPs detonate, you will likely be rendered inoperable and your body susceptible to capture.”
“And… my other choice is going with you, a Remote-Controlled Bi-Mech whose allegiance is dodgy at best and whose face I cannot see under the presumption that I may be captured anyway? I’ll cut you some slack on your choice of words, but at least attempt to give me a single reason as to why I should trust you!!”
“We are not dissimilar to Soldiers of Fortune…” The Bi-Mech started as I braced against the protective wall of fingers bolstering the cover from foolish marksmen taking potshots from an incredible distance.
“Mercenaries are no better than greedy tech-scavenging Architects! Can you not see you are being used as well!?”
“Please, we haven’t much time. Our virtues may not be that of freedom as it were in the past, but we have no stake in domination. I speak for all of us that we seek the renewal of our dying planet and perhaps one day, a renewal of our standard of living. Pardon me if it makes little sense as to how our Leader puts it ‘Simply just to live and enjoy the moment, don't dream, just 'be'.’”
“You fly a nameless Banner under a baseless ideology in the hopes to create a better world out of… what- thin air? Hopes, prayers, love, and friendship!? Maybe I was better off just blindly trusting you now that you’ve aired your dirty laundry! I’m no longer interested, you may open your hand so I can catch the next bullet to anywhere but here!”
“C-Certainly you can’t be serious-?!” The Bi-Mech jeered catching itself before its excitement inadvertently squashed me like an insect.
“I’ll leave your terrible ability to reason as a flaw in your Personality Profile. Hopefully, you are aware how lucky you are, I could have destroyed the ‘You’ on the other end of this Bi-Mech now that I’ve gained access to your transceiver. Take me to this idealist Leader. Just know that if you wrong me, I’ll shut down your Life-Support functions, and it will be a very VERY slow and painful death.”
Offering its knuckles as a plank to board the coffin-shaped control center, I carefully braced myself before kicking off over the point of no return. As if to prove I had the opportunity to rethink my position, the door pneumatically sealed itself slowly before a sudden and massive g-force drove me face first into the leather pilot cradle.
The smell of musk wafted up from the pit of the seat-cushion, although the force of acceleration pinned me from a quick escape without further compromising my stability. Once the sound of artillery batteries drifted off to the far distance, I managed to adjust myself properly in this cozy pocket of old analog switches, buttons, and claustrophobia.
“My apologies for the aggressive take-off. We have cleared the estimated blast-radius of the smaller warheads. I should have given you a proper warning before throwing myself into the air, but I needed more force than usual due to the damage my airfoils incurred. If you would like, there’s a space-age thermal blanket that may provide you some comfort left over from the original Cold War.”
“I think I’ll pass on the centuries-old crusty blanket and you can cut it with the pleasantries. Now that I could potentially seize control, what should stop me from doing so? I’m very aware this could be an elaborate bluff given what you stand to gain.”
“Do as you may, I can pass on the instruction manual over a personal AD-HOC connection, but if you have reservations about some sort of virus or electronic retaliation, I’ll open my personal operating software for you to peruse. My life is wholly in your hands.”
“You’d put yourself in such a position without regards to your own safety? You do realize that this desperation is backfiring, right? No A.I. is that ignorant unless they’re playing the part of a martyr.”
“I understand your misgivings, Lost-Child. I admit; we do stand much to gain for having you as an Ally, but an Ally who is under duress is no better than a prisoner, and that is not our intention.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Then who is this ‘our’ and what are ‘your’ intentions? Feel free to elaborate a bit better this time.”
Met with only the vibrations of the air-frame, I noticed the many glinting lights to be telling a tale of the incredible amount of damage the Bi-Mech had sustained. Most prominently, ‘Left-Engine: [FIRE],’ in the form of a dirt-encrusted yellow square now robbing my attention.
“Will you be able to maintain this altitude, Habu? Your flight-controls are severely damaged.”
Disregarding my concern, we sliced through the air shuddering along as to outpace the dying roar of afterburners. After a sigh of relief having cleared the altostratus, or maybe in bemusement towards unspoken severity, the A.I finally gave a response.
“That is the first time you’ve formally spoken name… Forgive me, I should not daydream of comradery at a time like this. It appears my satellite control range will give out shortly and you will need to manually glide this craft as far from the E.M.P's blast-radius as possible. Do you require a tutorial on the sub-frame's control schemes?”
Just then, the omnipresent voice faded into the rolling groan of metal on metal. Our semi-stable ascent into the cirrostratus had been compromised as the trailing edge of both wings ripped violently at the seams plunging the cockpit into darkness save for the narrow window to the morning light.
Everything shuddered uncontrollably between the faint bursts of shorting circuitry and cracks forming inside the interior. With my internal HUD’s altimeter rendered completely illegible, numbers streamed both forward and back, giving no indication of our altitude or the speed of our descent.
In clutching the flight-stick, I wrestled to regain control of the craft up until the hinges of the cockpit tore from their reinforced housing setting off a chain reaction of rapid decompression and subsequent ejection.
Free-falling through the air, I felt no fear, no sorrow or pain. If I were to grow wings, perhaps I felt something close to freedom, but in truth, it was a sense of relief that I no longer needed to worry about the future. If I were to close my eyes, I could stifle the bitterness in watching the end unfold, yet apart of me yearned to view the distant ground grow near.
That is until the sight extinguished itself to a caustic red sheen as the first of the warheads began to wash over the battlefield.
Habu's speculation was wrong.
I could see the shape of the fiery mushroom racing up from below as well as the other’s reaching up in the distance. The ordinance he had prophesized were not merely a device suited to the annihilation of electronics, they were thermonuclear devices, fully intact and served with intent to snuff out all but the most resilient forms of life.
There was an austere beauty in watching the serene destruction unfold as the concussion wave had yet to hit me or the aircraft. The silence made it as if I were no longer a participant in the world as if I had already perished, and so I closed by senses off to the wind lapping wildly at my hair.
It will be okay…
Everything will turn out alright…
Just you wait, Master, I’m coming home…
.
..
...
“Hold on to me!”
[ᴇ̴ʀ̶ʀ͏ᴏʀ̀#ɪ͝ɴᴠᴀʟɪ̕ᴅ/ʟ̢ᴏɢ̀ɪ͠ᴄ́(?̷)́:̨ ̷ɪ̷ ҉ᴡɪʟʟ ɴ̧ᴏ̛ᴛ ʟᴇ͝ᴛ ̛ʏ̢ᴏ̀ᴜ ̡ɢᴏ̵!͠]
Over the deafening noise of the wind shear, I could hear a blend of voices begging me to open my eyes. What I found was that same segmented hand belonging to the Bi-Mech, reaching down from above. Breathlessly, a form of weightlessness provided a smooth transition into sanctuary against the Mech’s scarred chest beneath its cupped hands.
As we continued to plummet into the fireball rising silently from below, we were baptized in a sea of powerful electromagnetic energy. My mind went blank as the temperatures began to grow alongside the interference that numbed my body whole. The nuclear explosion engulfed us in an instant, peeling back the layers of armor until they were liquefied and ultimately atomized.
Although everything blended into a peaceful warmth, I knew the infectious nature of electricity would eventually breach my insides and reduce them into illegible spurts of broken code. Not that I worried, getting to the end of the page brought me both excitement and solace.
But the impact of the ground never came, or perhaps somehow it had been mitigated, offset by the opposing force of the explosion. It had not been long since I had fallen asleep with the base of my skull leaning against the molten remains of my prison. The pungent ash clung to my nose and throat, making it difficult for the filters in my lungs to process the exceedingly hot air effectively altering my sanctuary into an industrial oven or rather that of a blast furnace.
I caved into a desire to speak; asking the Foundry, my tomb. If its Master had somehow survived the explosion. But the darkness returned an answer akin to the world’s eternal weeping; Rain, impossible to escape, it quickly evaporated akin to the sound of chirping cicadas.
“Could you have known that your body would act as Faraday cage? You sacrificed yourself to shield me from the magnetic impulse with your body. Even if this isn’t your own, how will I ever find you? Why…? Why me…? Haven’t I already enough blood on my hands?”
Sitting on my ankles, I could no longer tell if my eyes were open or closed. The darkness became my home and the rain my only ally. Once again, I had lost everyone and everything. My body now worse for wear, began to play tricks on me casting out elements of my HUD into a video feed of broken memories.
Faces I could no longer recognize, scenic views of a cliff-side overlooking a vast body of water, unstained by the downfall of Humanity. Oh, how I longed to reach out and touch it, but in doing so it faded from its translucent frame.
****THONK-GONGGGG-BANG!-BANG!!-BANG!!!****
The unsolicited pounding on my sanctuary sent a jolt up my spine and my hands outward feeling around for the interior walls that were once Habu’s hands.
****CLANK-CRICKKKK-THUNK-DAAAHN-BOOM!!!****
Falling over myself the curved walls began to churn, further evolving my tomb from an oven into a washing machine. If I were to stretch my limbs to their fullest extent, I could only just reach the tips of my fingers against the crudely spherical wall, though this resistance proved useless in bracing myself as I would end up on my head.
As quickly as it started, it stopped as light breached the chamber, forcing its way through my fingers in blinding rays of dust. For a moment, a faint chatter from outside ceased as the metal egg-shell began to fracture and crumble.
Once my eyes adjusted to yet another dark far more expansive chamber, I found myself surrounded by a Unit of six hiding beneath patchy hazmat suits of a bygone age.
Having been caught glaring at their belt-mounted filtration system and their insect-like masks, the alleged Leader knelt inside the safety of my cocoon before resting its elbow on the opening. Gesturing frequently as the Leader spoke, my Translation Service no longer served any benefit for clarifying the gibberish spilling through the man’s mask.
My restlessness made apparent that if this continued, retaliation would be inevitable. Before I could decipher such details, the shady military figure removed its mask to reveal a shaggy-headed young man struggling to hold back a doggish smirk.
“Bonjour, Guten Tag, Shalom, Privet! Ah… Umm… Ohayo? Hello there~!”
This was nothing new, having been cornered like a rabid animal. My senses were screaming at me to strike first. One swift blow to the esophagus and his constituent's attention would likely be diverted into rendering aid, providing a brief window to escape.
But I couldn’t see the surroundings obscured by the blinding flood lamps, it was impossible to tell if they were armed or where an exit may be. So, I resorted to falling back on the only option present at the time; to snivel like a pathetic child who had just lost everything. The tears came easy for the raw and bitter emotions were present.
That’s when a dreadful reminder of my past overlapped with the present. Drudging up a slew of fears I never knew were sealed away in the depths of my heart.
No…
Not again…
I’ll never submit, not a Relic Hunting Architect, not to any Human!
I’d rather see the world fall to ruin and return to dust!
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɴᴀɴᴏғᴏʀɢɪɴɢ sᴜʙsʏsᴛᴇᴍ ɪɴᴏᴘᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ-ғᴏʀɢᴇ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ ɪɴ.ᴏᴘ. - ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴀʟғᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ(s) ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ!]
[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇs ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ! ᴄᴀᴛᴀsᴛʀᴏᴘʜɪᴄ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ɪᴍᴍɪɴᴇɴᴛ!]
At the very first hint of the man’s forward step, my reflexes acted accordingly. A lump of metal fused to my hip once resembled a pistol, the girl’s keepsake whose face I burned into memory. Now Inside the pit of my fist, the memento of the fallen distorted beyond recognition.
Twisted by corruption, fused by plasma and super-heated into a blade dripping with a viciousness that threatened to shred my hand to pieces.
Under the extreme force behind my blow, I lunged in a wake of tears as I took aim towards the man's heart. Reared back directing the blade in a manner that would gut him from his chest cavity downwards like that of a fish, I held nothing back.
There was nothing close to an explanation as to how the agonizing shard of death halted at first contact with his open hand. Just silence and pause in my cadence, but that’s when his peculiar smirk resurfaced.
“Quite sloppy Nano-Forging if I do say so myself, although credit is due, that was pretty fast!” The scraggly young man puffed mockingly as he turned to the five faceless hazmat suits cowering in bewilderment. “Y'all better scram. Rusty-Bolts here is giving off enough radiation to make your nuts glow in the dark through those lead diapers! Oh, and whatever’s dangling between your legs Aude, Ehehe~!”
Murmuring and chattering in agreement, the troop scurried off into the shadowy confines of the sealed room allowing me a moment’s reprieve to gauge my surroundings.
Poured concrete encasing metal rebar, crude and effective at creating a bunker for this day and age if it were not for the remains of history the unfathomable power in comparison. I would have no issue de-materializing the walls, but mysterious underground lair aside; I had more troubling matter casually glaring back at me.
“Impressed, scared? A little bit of both, or are you just bewildered at my ability to catch such a heavy girl~ ey Rusty?!”
Pressing all my weight into the broken blade, my efforts were rewarded with a face-plant by way of a mere side-step.
“C’mon now, that’s the best you got little Lilim? Don’t blow a fuse! You use those things still, right~!? ”
“How do you know what I am?!” I shouted slithering to my feet before extending my caustic weapon into a thin spear. “I have no desire to entertain your rhetoric. If you think you’ll use me, this body, I’ll be sure to kill you last so that I may feed you the ashes of your allies!”
Holding my brilliantly reverberating fist to my chest, I posed a threat to consume the very thing keeping me alive.
“Huh, I don’t think your coding will let you do that. A robot necking itself? For what reason? I haven’t caused you any harm other than seeing your birthday suit? Have I really done something that detestable and could you really reason that killing others with little to no involvement will do you any good?”
“You’re too naïve to understand… how you Humans really are… Your kind are greedy, selfish animals that only care to feed their desires! There may be exceptions, mutations that go against their biological instinct to survive- but they are vastly outnumbered, and their efforts lead us to this very point in time.”
“That’s some real~ wild accusations, but your damn right everything leads us up to this point. It’s called F~A~T~E, ever heard of it? Can you process it, it’s kinda… what’s the word…? Oh right~ inevitable, inescapable, unavoidable and every other ‘able~’ I can think of in your language, and oh, by the way that's a really old dialect, Touhoku-ben is it?!”
Retracing his letters slowly, I sneered, shrugging off my pride as I primed myself for an all-out assault on the entire complex.
“Alright, alright, I don’t buy the whole ‘fate thing’ either. But do yah really need to kick my dick in to make an escape? I mean; I’m not holding you here physically, and you saw the Rad-Crew ran away like a buncha pansies- not to mention they were only armed with Geigers! You’re the holding a big ol stick, and I’m the one speaking softly…”
Making his point with a fist cupped to his scruffy chin, the man’s overly dramatic gesture towards the exit painted a picture of a circus performer, rather than this machismo charged man-child.
“Then I’ll be leaving…”
Seemingly in the clear, I backpedaled all but the last ten paces nearest the exit lamp until the weight of a hand dropped on my shoulder conflicting with my certainty that we were alone.
Through the many years, a broad range of self-defense capabilities manifested each tailored by necessity. A wrist breaking twist, pressure points and a pivot of the heel when executed in rapid succession fluently planted the shadow-shifter to the pavement.
“Hey-hey, don’t Forge the face!!”
“If you don’t want to be broken down to your primal elements and rearranged into carbon, state your intentions- all of them, or leave me the hell alone!”
“We rescued you, didn’t we? I mean; if this were a hostile takeover wouldn’t we have you in some sort of binds by now… err… not that you couldn’t Forge your way out of anything we threw on you! Could you dial your speed-setting down slow enough to listen? For someone who's built to be calculating and cold, you’re quite the Bearcat!”
“Perhaps you should be the one to think about the implications if I were to linger. Were you not the one to warn about the radiation leaking from my Core. It’s lethal to a Human without a Class-12 hermetically sealed protective suit, but I’m sure you haven’t a clue what I’m talking about.”
“Well, I’d be screwed either way because these suits are only rated for toxic gas and secondary radiation when scrubbin’ the boiler chamber on the bottom floor. That aside, before you tried to give me the ol razzle-dazzle with that lump of… I’m not quite sure what you transmuted- anyways; I wanted to ask if you worked out your issues with Habu?”
“Habu?!” I repeated spontaneously. “What are you… his Pilot, a Mechanic? I expected a far more respectable soldier. That A.I is far too good for the likes of you.”
“Who me?! Nah! I’m not what you call a Canary, Bearcat, I couldn’t pilot that bucket even if my life depended on it. Now can you please stop crushing my jaw!? Your knees are freakin’ boney!”
A pinging in my ear make aware of an ambiguous presence lurking nearby, but with my Optics in desperate need of repair and my limbs tied up in subduing the egotistical buffoon, an unexpected jolt of reprieve came at the expense of an eerie echo.
“That ‘Bucket’ was one of my few extensions to the outside world, Slate. Regrettably, it is no more due to your inability to focus your attention on the Radar and the damage sustained to the Prometheus. Need I mention you fired upon one of our own?”
Stepping forward with machine-like precision, an android predating my era by over half a century stood at attention with discerning features far worse for wear than my own.
Most prominently; a sizeable blunt-force indentation of his forehead and subsequent fractures across his lower jaw. Without his Faceplate, Habu’s skeletonized features were ghastly at best even without the addition of pop-culture decals standing in as makeshift Band-Aids.
“Oh as if I can split my eyes enough to track a million little things going on at once! It was my first time Piloting that cantankerous death-trap! We’re lucky Rusty here gives off such a unique death-odor that we found what’s left of your hands…! Those were your Bi-Mech's hands we just spend half an hour trying to jackhammer open, right?”
“Indeed they were, but Sir; please treat the young Miss respectfully. I have seen first-hand that her abilities precede her reputation. Please, keep your teasing to a minimum. I’m certain young Miss not entertained by your candor, despite what you may think.”
Blowing raspberries through his flattened mouth, the same Idiot who chose torn the sleeves of his hazmat for 'style' over his own safety motioned to remove my all-consuming hand from his face in which he quickly discovered it to be immovable.
“G-Go fetch my coat or something o-or at least act the way you dress, Habu, you crotchety ol' butler! Make sure Lotte hasn’t used it as a blood rag for the others in the infirmary, and if she has; steal something from the twins- better yet, steal one from Boss’, anything will probably fit Bearcat better anyways!”
Increasing the force on his temporal bone in spite of his every word, the man now dangerously near the necessary pressure to cause fractures groaned through the pain either through sheer stubbornness, willpower or stupidity.
“Not my face~ my charm! You really put B’s, D’s and a whole lot of M’s in ‘BDSM,’ don’t’cha’ Bearcat!? Ou~~ou~ouuh~! Sheit!”
“Are you really this stupid? If so; I may release you out of pity. Any dog knows not to play with fire, need I remind you why through lasting consequences?”
Little did he know; thick layers of code regulated the disassembly of organic matter which left rearranging his pompous mug an empty threat, although the bone-crushing route remains readily sufficient.
It was when I noticed a discrepancy in the data my Catalyst pinged back; returning an odd list of reclaimable elements which caused me to double-take and lose focus for less than a fraction of a second.
And then came a sharp knee to my groin and a bolt of pain even my damaged nerves would register in a tidal wave of muscle contractions.
With my pride mortally wounded and my grip broken, I lashed out with a strike only to have it caught against an impossible outcome. Sparks began to spit and skip across the cold ground from our intertwined fingers, but it was just until I realized the full extent of my discovery that I found myself pressed to retreat.
“What are you!?” I groaned in confusion, pushing off from the entangling grapple, utilizing my heel for leverage against his spongy throat. “I shouldn’t have been able to activate my Catalyst against you, and your hand shouldn’t have been able to resist the breakage of your molecular bonds!"
“Well, I suppose it’s about time I properly introduce myself before you blow a fuse. Creator Unit SL-8, Pleased to meetcha, Unit FR-4!”
Digging through the crumbling heap of my earliest memories, I was sure this could not be.
[ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ!]
That’s what my Master told me.
[ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴋɪɴᴅ!]
Could he have lied? Does my corruption span so much to erase something I was confident of from the very beginning?
[ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴡʜʏ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʜɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛɪᴍɪᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs, ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴇᴛ! ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴀᴄᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛɴ’ᴛ ʟᴏsᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ! ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀғᴜʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ sʜᴀᴘɪɴɢ. ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ!]
“Imposter!” I cried out from the weight of world caving in on my shoulders towards the leering deceiver standing before me.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse. You won’t find my Serial Tag in your index so don’t bother, obviously its more than two letters and a number just like yourself; Fraahhhh-jillllll~. Then again, we both embraced some numeric hodgepodge as our own. Go figure we’d inherit egoism from our Masters.”
“Y-You’re implying that our Masters is not one in the same? How is this possible!? -How much do you remember?!”
“Remember? Oh right, about that… Apparently~ when you hot-swap a Neural Drive, there are copy-protected sectors, so most of my long-term memory got thrown out a long time ago when my old drive started to fail… … … wait, don’t tell me; you’re still running on your OEM N-Drive are ya Rusty!?”
Admittedly, the N-Drive along with the entirety of my body was ‘original,’ not that I could remember. Through self-maintenance, what little I could perform on my own, everything still registered as matching numbers.
For some reason I hesitated, unaware that a single back-step would result in pressing up against an unmovable wall.
“Please refrain from referring to the Miss as discarded junk, garbage and especially ‘Rust.’ I find it reasonably offensive, Sir Slate. Need I remind you that I am far older than both of you.”
I should be thankful for hesitating, but in truth, his sudden appearance startled me. It was not my intent to remain frozen, my body did not react instinctively as it should have given Logic had yet to reboot. For a head loosely bound with electrical tape, zip-ties and a bothersome number of colorful stickers, certainly, decapitation would have been vindicated for this heart thumping jump-scare.
“Miss, is this to your liking?” The well mannered Android stated as he draped what I allege to be one of Slate’s jackets over my shoulders in which I quickly took refuge. “I could have Lotte hem the seams a bit, but that would require more time.”
“You ain't having butterfingers hemming my jacket, and if you had skin yah crusty bastard you’d know to keep needles far away from her!” Slate howled like a feverish animal. “I’m starting to think by Bearcat's temper that being a Prototype means a severe lacking in the Emotion Emulation department! Pfft, explains the defensiveness of her crotchety old bull with a lust for ‘lackluster.’”
“Take it back…” I seethed, biting my teeth so hard they threatened to fracture. “Don’t you dare speak ill of my Master!!”
“Alright, sheesh, don’t blow a gasket.” Slate motioned with his hands raised defensively in a half-apologetic tone. “Look, we lost a lot of people trying to retrieve you and before you go all jar-head on me let me emphasize we are NOT your typical Architects.”
“Is that so? This is your last chance to convince me why I shouldn’t give you a lobotomy.”
“Sure, money is involved, I mean; look around you- that’s what it takes to build a roof over people’s heads and keep out stomachs fed. Is that really a reason to lump us in with the Mercs? Take a look around and judge for yourself! This could be your home too if you’re willing to contribute.”
“And if I don’t like what I see, what then? Shall you wager the lives of others? If so, then you must stand to gain much from me, which begs the question; why go through all the trouble for a chance, where all others sought to control me?”
“That’s a question better left to the Mayor, cause you see; this little commune works together in order to survive. That is our Prime Directive, the propagation of all life in our own humble way. Seriously though before we start a tour; you need to get into Detox before you irradiate poor Habu. I’m sure the radiation you've been spitting already punched a few holes in his retinas. Once you get cleaned up and cleared as ‘safe’ to be around our little slice of bubblegum flavored hell, why not give the locals a buzz- this ‘structure’ is quite a bit more than meets your… uh~”
Scurrying forward as it to discern the metallic drizzle clinging somewhere about my face, Slate leaned in with a crinkled smirk.
“Those are some dollish eyes you got there. You sure wear molten metal well.”
With a forceful shove, I distanced myself from his infuriating candor.
“I’m starting to grasp your flirtatious advances, and childish insults are a means of deflecting, you deft mongrel. Answer the question: You said Masters, plural. We -by design- are not prone to Freudian Slips, misspeaking occurs only in hard errors; what do you remember!? I was always told, and have always thought… to be alone, the only one…”
In response, Slate let out a dejected sigh before drawing his fingers in a motion for us to leave. With Habu’s kind gesture to allow me to lean against his arm, I noticed Slate stealthily bury his hands to his pockets as if to conceal something.
“Still on about that?” Slate spoke into his shoulder, shooting a glare as if to see if I had noticed that his hands had been shaking uncontrollably. “I’d offer a direct connection to prove I have no memories or a reason why I said that. My past got thrown into the garbage, and someone I trust told me it was for the better. If you get the chance to be born anew, I highly recommend you take it.”
“Pardon the interjection, Ma’am; this place is a bit of a haven for stray dogs and cats both organic or artificial, we value life all the same. I personally will guarantee your safety as long as there are no reports of unexplained matter-fusion related casualties. As for the duration of your stay, it is entirely up to you; but I implore you to give it ample time to form a proper opinion.”
As Habu spoke, I kept my eyes aloof mapping the interior hallways into memory taking great care with detail down to the graffiti on every sign, as well as the spacing between the droopy wires lining the dreary wall-lamps struggling to remain alight. A tingle of success caressed the tip of my tongue against the cold damp encroaching on my senses. Where it came from, I am uncertain, but it seems that Slate might be just as unsettled about my existence for he had yet to stay his incessant shaking.
“No promises, Habu. They never end well with me.” I mumbled beneath my breath as we pressed into a damp corridor of fresh, earthy steam and amid sea of restless chatter.
Tonight, I finally attain a chalice in which I wash away my sins. If it were not for the transient night, I would have prayed for morning to come.