“As you know, you and your Anomaly Corps partners are part of our android production program. Vanitas is a 0.0.1 model—as he was technically our prototype—and Vivienne and you are 0.0.2 and 0.0.3, respectively. Your purpose as operatives of MetalBody is to investigate anomalies around the Aes area.”

Viktor nodded. This was information they’d been given since their first waking moments. Jane finally looked up and spoke as well.

“You’ve heard this all before, but there are a few things we left out in our explanation that are gonna become a lot more relevant very soon.”

Maria slid the documents toward the android.

“Nearly ten years ago, I got transported to a planet immensely far away from Earth through a great portal. It was called Mei, and it was bristling with big sentient creatures I had never seen or heard of before. I ended up helping them overcome some horrible…circumstances, and we gained full trust of each other through it. This crown was gifted to me by them, as a sign of respect.”

Viktor was initially very taken aback by this recounting, as there was no information in his knowledge database concerning a planet which must have been so impossibly far away. Still, he had always figured the Earth-foreign crown and throne design must have come from somewhere specific.

Seemingly in reaction to his light-speed overthinking, Maria spoke up once more.

“It was on this planet that android prototypes even older than Vanitas were made. Of course, they weren’t nearly as articulate, but that was only because the beings that resided there had little to no reference for replicating human anatomy. After that night they sent me home with their technology and schematics in the hopes that I’d further improve their designs. I’m gonna be honest with you, it looked to me like they were really worried about something invading Earth. Something fast and threatening. Something so dangerous it could possess an entire armies’ worth of living things and drive them to turn on their own kind. The Meians gave us 10 years. The reason we’ve been so stressed out is because today is the 10th anniversary of that day.”

Viktor took a hasty look down at the documents before him. There were 3 or 4 pages in total, each one containing messy-but-voluminous notes and detailed graphs. The android couldn’t exactly make out what the subject of the various tests and hypotheticals was, but he didn’t have to think about it too hard after he looked at the papers long enough. He eventually found that each one had a heading printed in bright red ink that read: “Confidential: PARASITE”.

“So, to make sure I’m processing this correctly, there is an incredibly dangerous threat heading to Earth right now–possibly ON Earth right now–and you both are just now deciding to notify us?” he stammered.

Jane’s face sagged into a sad, almost pleading expression.

“We wanted to use as much time as possible to research the threat and give you three all the time you needed to train. As shocking as this all is, the problem isn’t our timing. What IS our problem is the stupid thing itself. It hasn’t come up on any of our tracking devices this entire time. Not one blip on radar, sonar, not even just cameras. We have no idea if it’s even here, much less where on the planet it’ll be when it eventually crash-lands.”

“What Jane and I are trying to say is: When all this action really starts to pick up, the MetalBody Anomaly Corps is finally going to serve its true purpose.”

People often told Viktor he had a fidgeting problem. His hands would tap around, especially when he was thinking. After that information had been passed on to him, they were slapping his chair so fast it sounded like a breakcore song. Maria and Jane glanced at each other. The stand-in queen’s expression flickered for a brief moment from composed to sympathetic. The android had never seen either of the two convey such subtle and vulnerable exchanges. He pondered the information he’d been taking in for what felt like a long while until Maria’s voice once again snapped him out of it.

“Today’s debriefing is unique, Viktor. We need you and the Corps to carry out a dual-purpose mission of sorts. There have been some nighttime light sightings popping up around Aes recently, and you’ll be leading an investigation on their sources while also hopefully making sure they shut off and stay off. That much is what we’ll tell each of you, but your job specifically has more to it. You’re gonna be responsible for helping us track the parasite.”

She got up and walked over to a large screen on the wall opposite the doorway. It displayed a menu, seemingly related to Viktor’s different functions.

“We changed the settings on your comms device so that we can talk back and forth with you on a separate channel, that way we can keep you on track while preserving the secrecy of our problem.”

Jane must have noticed the increasing intensity on everyone’s faces, as she chose that moment to chime in.

“We’re well aware of what we’re asking you to do here, Vik. Lying to your team is a tough and complex directive. But this threat needs to be neutralized. The choice here is to either help us save the planet from a dangerous unknown chaos or keep Vivienne and Vanitas in the dark for a little while. If they found out about this, that shared knowledge held in the hands of a group of such powerful beings could spell terrible things. All that being said, we trust you to make the right decision. The mission preparation starts first thing tomorrow morning. We expect to see you three by then.”

Viktor found himself sprinting again. He went out of the creators’ office the way he came in: bursting through the doors. Being an android meant he could run pretty fast, but his processing speed was nearly 10-to-the-23rd-power times faster. Thus, before he had even made it very far, he was already up to around waist-level in thought. It mostly boiled down to questioning why the decision was ever made to have him lead the corps. He was in no way the appropriate choice for leader. He always felt like he was trying to keep up with everyone else, and he knew that wasn’t a desired leadership quality. Why couldn’t it have been Vanitas, who’s sharp wit could carry them out of any precarious situation? Even Vivienne, with her fearsome power and fair nature, would’ve been a better pick. What did he have compared to that? A flashy sword and a buggy, too-quick brain? It made no sense to him, but in the interest of staying focused he attempted to direct his thoughts somewhere else. He figured his teammates would probably be getting their color flashes soon, and that was good because it meant that he wouldn’t have to be the one to talk to them and potentially let something slip. Knowing important information and never relaying it to anyone was always his most hated responsibility, and the fact that he had so much trouble reliably doing it was partly why. In fact he could even recall that because of this, Maria and Jane had begun to steadily decrease their flow of “Viktor-Only Intel” until it got to the point where that debriefing was the first real bit of knowledge they had given to him in almost 3 years. Suffice to say, if they were trusting him with information that gigantic in scale, it meant Viktor’s predictions must have been confirmed: things were going to get incredibly serious, incredibly soon.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Even with his attempts to set himself straight, the android could still sense that something was beginning to feel off. Right there, mid-run in the MetalBody hallways, he began to endure a familiar process he would eventually start calling “data conflict”. His team referred to it as “glitching”, but it ended up being this whole thing where he found that descriptor term to be moderately inaccurate because it’s not something he shouldn’t be able to do but they wouldn’t stop so it just stuck but he–

He stopped running, hoping that might help. But maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he could’ve processed things better if he had kept running. But…that couldn’t be it, allowing himself to think that fast was what got him to data conflict in the first place. The android realized he couldn’t even move his legs anyway. Also, his head felt hot. Also, he began to feel pulsating vibrations rattle in his skull. His thoughts were supposed to be his most valued asset. Why would they leave him in such a sorry state? His head felt like the Earth’s core.

He felt himself collapse to the floor.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

As Viktor’s systems went back online, microscopic sensors that littered his body began to pick up a figure emitting great heat directly above him. His brain–a complex supercomputer firmly secured within layers of protective shielding–began to recalibrate. He pictured a looming being of indescribable density peering down at his helpless form, unconcerned with his fate yet curious still. His eyes, two camera lenses with near-infinite reconnaissance capabilities, whirred and reoriented. He sluggishly opened them, wishing he would stop assuming the worst about his discovery. He saw…another android. His vocal output signaled its restored capability.

“Vivienne?” he sputtered.

She rose up from her eldritch stance and scratched her head, a motion that Viktor noted as looking just a bit unnatural when compared to similar behaviors his creators exhibited.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just checking for any, um… hardware issues? I saw you kinda crumpled in the hallway when Vanitas and I were heading towards the Mother Room, and I didn’t want to leave you there like he told me to so I carried you back to your bed. I didn’t find anything wrong with you, if you were wondering.”

There were several alarming aspects of that sentence, but Viktor decided as per usual with his robust teammate to ignore his bewilderment and let her continue getting her train of thought across.

“He’s been exhibiting some unusual behaviors today. He insisted that we spar together, but…”

She looked around hastily.

“About halfway through the session he just stopped landing hits. It was almost like…like he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What could that possibly mean, Vik?”

Viktor looked past his confused companion towards a wall, spaced out in thought. He tried to imagine Vanitas displaying any semblance of restraint in battle, making sure he was processing things slowly. It wasn’t necessarily hard to visualize; the difficulty instead came from accepting it as a real occurrence. From the second the Corps were grouped together, he had acted as the wildcard in their fighting dynamic. Regardless of what matchup involved him and of what the outcome of the fight would be, the one aspect of the sparring that would remain in the minds of all involved would be his unyielding unpredictability. He was driven, and he could and would do anything imaginable to win. Of all the pieces of information relayed to him that day, Viktor then felt that this was the most striking. He looked back at Vivienne.

“I…I don’t know. Do you think he might be bugged?”

“Bugged? Have you ever heard of that happening to us?”

“I mean, it happens to me every so often, doesn’t it? Maybe it’s not such a far off idea.”

“Those aren’t bugs. They’re just…like…”

She trailed off. Viktor held his gaze, noticing that her expression had become increasingly more troubled.

“I guess I never thought of it like that. We called it glitching, yes, but…I was never being serious about it. I always thought it was something you were meant to be able to do.”

“What purpose would something like that serve? I can’t seem to find one. It only seems to get in the way of my progress.”

Both androids looked off into nothing once more. Viktor felt a hand crash down onto his shoulder with the weight of an imploding building.

“You disapprove of that terminology, don’t you? I can see it in your face. I-I don’t mean to bring your skill into question, Vik, I hope you know that. Regardless of the intentions of Vanitas.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that, really. Today has just been…confusing, to say the absolute least. You should get going, though. I don’t wanna make you miss the debriefing.”

Vivienne nodded and started out the door. Following her path with his eyes, Viktor couldn’t help but notice a strange blinking red light on the floor of the doorway. It disappeared just as quickly as he saw it. With everything else going on, he found it hard to focus on its implications. She turned back at the last second.

“Don’t be afraid to talk to us, seriously. We’re partners, y’know? We shouldn’t feel it necessary to hold anything back. Don’t you agree?”

All he could do was nod his head. He felt a familiar heat creep up once again.