[The onslaught drives 2—- back again, the force of the blows each rattling through her. The words rattle her in a different way, though it may be hard to spot. Where A2’s rage is clear in her eyes, 2—- is still viewing the world through her scanner.]
It doesn’t matter what I think.
[She tries to get a counter in, but there’s never time. A2’s words have already hit home. (It comes back. Six months. Six months of no one but old computers greeting her by another name. Six months doggedly chasing one thing and always coming up with nothing.) Weapons clash pointlessly. Graceful as the two are, sooner or later, 2—-‘s foot comes down on one of her own body’s neck, just enough of an unsteady moment.
The sword bites into her arm, and 2—- clamps down on a pained sound. At least there’s a bit more color decorating this false city.]
You say that like there’s a choice. But you and I - what else do we have?
[She doesn't want to hear this — from her copy, her successor. That the version of herself that was meant to be better would still be trapped by their own weakness is too much to bear.
Instead of yanking her sword out, A2 pushes forward, then lifts her foot for a vicious kick to 2--'s chest.]
You weakling - you knew about everything! And you still just follow orders like a puppet!
[A2 stands above 2-- and seems to calm, suddenly. The bright sheen to her eyes dulls and frosts over.]
[The kick makes her stagger back. There is time for a thought, but not to voice anything. The blade is already descending, and another broken doll tumbles to the ground.
.dnuorg eht ot selbmut llod nekorb rehtona dna ,gnidnecsed ydaerla si edalb ehT .gnihtyna eciov ot ton tub ,thguoht a rof emit si erehT .kcab reggats reh sekam kcik ehT
2-- is more than a little curious about this false city. What was it based on, what might be hidden in it? But the mission has to be first. She frowns when she finds the mess. A2, and the copies littering the ground. Is this all they want? Is this enough for them?]
A2.
[2-- reaches over her shoulder to claim the weapon suspended over her back. What was it she’d brought this time - ah, yes. A short sword. Something close and personal.]
[This time, A2 crouches on a haphazard pile of fallen androids. Some are rusted and degraded by weather, covered in lichen and moss, overrun with vines and pale white flowers that glow warm living light in this tomb of a city. Some are still pristine. She holds up a shining, gunmetal black skull and studies it with blank disinterest. When 2-- speaks, she makes the skull's jaw move up and down in a chattering pantomime.
Tiring of this, she tosses it at 2--'s feet.]
You really keep showing up. Did they forget my brain when they put you together?
Whatever keeps me from running into a sword, for starters.
[Her response drips with condescension. She hasn't moved yet, but her gaze is hard and focused.]
You know what happened to me, and you still keep showing up. Every goddamn time I think you're finally gone for good, here you are again. My shitty little lapdog of a copy.
[A flicker of static streaks across the empty white sky, like a plume of lightning. A2 shifts on her makeshift throne of corpses to observe this anomaly. In the distance, white birds are startled out of a tree, casting stark, inky shadows over their battlefield.
A2 drops gracefully from her perch. Her heels click against the ground and echo in the vast space. Smoothly, she shifts into into a fighting stance: her blade level, her eyes cold. She tips her chin at 2-- in a gesture of subtle challenge.]
Just best qualities, distilled and sharpened. Not some inferior copy.
[Wait, that's not quite right, is it? 2-- is the one who keeps having to come back. 2-- looks up to the anomaly along with her predecessor, before returning her attention to her target.
The world can change. The dancers and their steps are the constant, and 2-- proves it by rushing in, sword flicking out first to try knocking A2's sword out of line and make an opening for a thrust.]
[When Aloy wakes she'll remember the glimpse. A pair, nothing like the androids or machines she saw in that recording of A2's war. Nothing like the broken dolls in this dream.
Right now, she can't spare time to give them a thorough look. 2-- has to focus on the bout. It's a lie to say it isn't exciting. There's few things like A2 in deadly motion. Angling blades at one another. Pushing in on the other one moment, retreating another. 2-- tries with everything she has to pierce A2.
But there are moments that she glances toward the two girls, and these moments can become cracks in her defense.]
Providing information to the enemy is a tactical error.
[To the surprise of no one, this answer displeases A2.] You're such a tightass.
[Had she been like this? So cold, so controlled, so blindly adhering to the authority of YoRHa? Perhaps not the first two, but the last: yes, yes, a million times over yes. A fool in bondage to her superiors, left stranded in enemy territory and sentenced to death for no reason other than living in defiance of their orders.
This time, she and 2-- are evenly matched — mostly. But where 2-- can die and have her consciousness uploaded safely to the Bunker, A2 has no such guarantees. And so she fights with the ferocity of someone who knows that their death will be true and final. In one of the brief milliseconds of time that 2-- is distracted, A2's blade cuts open a cut so fine on her cheek that it's hard to tell she's struck until blood begins to trickle in a thin line, red filling up the wound and making it real.]
[A short, pained hiss is the only acknowledgement for how the tip of A2's blade bites into her cheek. She doesn't waste time by touching it to check that she's bleeding, she just moves onto her next attack.
Her answer isn't right, exactly. It isn't what 2-- should say, anyway.]
We're willful. [Take the momentum, don't let A2 slip in another attack -] Unstoppable, even. [Trying to drive her sword through the wrist of A2's sword arm -] But with just enough compassion.
[Emotions may be forbidden, but 2-- does care about things.]
[When 2-- strikes out at her wrist, there's a stutter in A2's movement. She lowers her blade to catch the tip of 2--'s own before it strikes, but then she speaks of their shared qualities, and the half-second is enough. 2B's blade scrapes against her wrist, and the skin there splits like cheap aluminum. Zaps of electricity, metal sparking — a sharp inhale of pain from A2. She jumps back, creating distance. Her fingers around the hilt of her blade are blood-slick and twitch in spasmodic fits and starts until she tightens her grip.]
... What the hell are you talking about?
[The question is eerily soft. Unfortunately, it doesn't take long before her voice begins to raise in distressed anger.]
You think you're funny? You think this is a fucking joke?!
[In the staticky and torn patch of sky above, a dull red crescent of light glows like a moon rising. Like an eye opening slowly.
Beside 2--, Pod speaks:] Alert: Unit A2 utilizing B-Mode. Proposal: dodge.
[The Pod's words are swallowed by A2's furious scream.]
I'LL KILL YOU!
[The rush forward sends the fake white stone of the ground to split into segmented white cubes. A2 bears down on 2-- like a thing possessed.]
[Only sparing one word for Pod. There's no way to face an onslaught from A2 unscathed, especially not when heat radiates off the older attacker, and she moves so fast. 2-- doesn't give up ground, instead twisting with uncanny grace to narrowly escape relentless attacks. She bides her time, trying to swipe back at A2 in those moments.
But if A2 doesn't want to see a copy of herself, she should have had another quick kill. The longer 2-- lasts, the more the wear and tear of combat will bring the fresh-faced copy in line with her predecessor's appearance.]
You can't even pretend. You care enough to destroy yourself.
[And they'll do it under that watchful eye, won't they?]
[How long had she been fighting this simulacrum of herself? Months? Years? Time has melded into one long moment. It had stopped the day her mission ended. The day she'd watched her friends die, one by one. Now there was only this: this deadly dance, this forever-running, this empty drag of countless battles. She destroys her body because it didn't matter. Nothing did. All things had ceased to matter once she'd learned the truth of their world — that it was all worthless. Directionless killing, endless death. Meaningless code.
And still, knowing this, she rages. She fights in this battle like it's her last one. Like it's as essential as breathing. She fights because to give up would be to dishonor the dead. She fights because she doesn't know what else to do. And she hates herself for wanting to give up at all. She hates 2-- for being too weak to surpass her, the both of them mirrors of her failure of self.]
Shut up... shut up! Why won't you just die? Why won't you — why won't you leave me alone?! [Her voice is choked; her vision blurs with tears. Weakling, she thinks. Coward.
The more distressed she becomes, the more viciously she fights. And as the crimson eye above them begins to blink sluggishly as it struggles to open fully, the two red clad girls look up at it in unison.]
Curious. [Says one.]
Curious. [Says the other.]
We don't recognize this machine. [The first replies.]
This is not one of our children. [The second says.]
[The two of them ask:] From where does it originate? The androids? [A pause.]
[An anomaly. It's all anomaly, as far as 2-- is concerned. They were built to fight and die. So who decided they should be built to cry? What is the purpose of a pained sound when their blades bite into one another?
Because she's just going to grit her teeth and stab again.]
[B-Mode has seconds left. She would have to kill 2-- quickly, she realizes, lest she be left more vulnerable. But blood and dark oil seep through her glove, making her already weak sword grip unbalanced and slippery. But she couldn't die. Not here, not to her. No matter what, she wouldn't be the one at the end of a blade today.
She switches weapons in a flash. A blink and a greatsword cleaves through the air between herself and her opponent in a swing that makes the air scream around them.
Above, the red light blinks into alertness. An ominous spotlight falls on the two androids, painting them and the girls in the distance in foreboding scarlet.
A voice sounds from the heavens: cool and feminine, stripped of the complexities of human emotion.]
Access prohibited. Alpha override required. All data lost.
[Even an instant of hesitation would end in death. But still, this moment of wrongness settles underneath A2's skin like a burr.]
[Almost like a mirror of A2, there is a break in the attacks as 2-- looks to the sky. The voice tugs at her, rousing a sense of recognition. And with the voice recognized, dread for the red light follows.
The tatters of the blindfold 2-- wears finally falls away.]
[She could kill her now. The thought is cold and straightforward. It's a matter of strategy. 2-- is distracted by the ominous machine light that shines down on them like some sort of judgment. An apocalyptic omen given a voice and a message. Humans spoke of these things in their theology. The machine light was an archangel, portending doom.
But the distress that she hears in 2--'s voice gives her pause. It's that hated empathy that they share — that YoRHa had tried so hard to destroy. Instead, A2 lowers her blade, and she stares up at the light in that gray sky.
A flick of her eyes in 2--'s direction.] What data? [...] The Bunker?
[Pod, ever obedient, attempts to retrieve the data. The data is an ocean, a flood of information. But it can't be read or understood. They scramble into incoherence.]
Data format unknown. Attempting decryption. ... ...... .......... Attempt failed. Access denied.
Starting attempt #2... ........ ..........
[A2's gaze is still fixed on the spotlight, and the voice above speaks again in the flat, empty intonation of a machine.]
Breach detected. Antivirus measures initiated.
[And then, softly, edged with condescending pity:]
[There's a link in the chain that positions the world over Aloy's shoulders: there's one person alive who can access everything needed to ensure the future of Earth. Or rather, there was only one person. She won't be shut out, she won't be rejected again.]
Unacceptable. [Like 2-- should say. But then, with a sharp determination laced through with desperation:] I won't accept that.
[Her arm sweeps through the air, punctuating herself. HADES told Aloy once that this is Earth's last iteration. Its last chance.]
There has to be an access point - an override. There's always a way forward.
[A2, wreathed in red light, turns slowly to face 2--. Her expression is strange. Baffled, uneasy.]
-What?
[A flash across both of their memories-
— blood pooling sluggishly from a head wound. She ignores the pain that pulses through her temple in an erratic heartbeat, willing it into nothingness before her nanomachines begin repair a split second later. She's more pristine here than 2-- has ever seen her, still in uniform, traversing a desert that stretches out as far as the eye can see. Her gaze is vacant, staring out at a point beyond the horizon as she walks forward. A lone figure in a barren ocean of sand.
She stops in front of the corpse of an android, the body long reduced to black exoskeleton, empty eye sockets filled with sand. There's a sword near this forgotten thing. The wind is still; the air dry and hot. The sun was very high in the sky, and it was dangerous for her to be out in the open.
A2 takes the sword. Then, she begins to dig a grave.
- In the present, A2 blinks, hard. Then she stumbles back, off balance.]
What the hell is going on...?
[Her jaw sets. She glares up at the eye above them. A machine.
It was always a goddamn machine. She wasn't going to get talked down to by one of them.]
- Hey, asshole! Are you gonna gloat, or are you gonna fight?
[The eye shutters closed.
Then, the sky splits open in a sea of pulsating red static. In the distance, the two red-clad girls slowly stand to watch this new phenomenon.]
How unusual, says the first.
We have not witnessed this step, says the other.
Something new?
Evolution. We will observe this anomaly, and use it to destroy the androids.
[Something resonates there. The motherless hunter walked under the decaying gate declaring the land a ranch. The old ones used such places to care for beasts of the land. The hunter had walked and ridden far and wide, looking for her precious thing. The hunter knew she would find it here, and that is why she listened to the voices of her ancestors as she approached.
"Being smart will count for nothing if you don't make the world better!" they said.
"You have to use your smarts to count for something, to serve life, not death!" they said.
A body sat on the ancient bench as the hunter came close. Her Third Sight pierced the helmet it wore and she could see the woman beneath. It was the hunter, older, and peaceful in death.
This was the hunter's first treasure.
2-- scowls up at the sky. She's unsettled, and trying to twist that into an anger to fight with.]
If it won't come down, we'll need long-range combat options.
[This memory that flashes in her eyes is not a familiar one. It belongs to neither herself or 2--, and later A2 will recall it in her waking moments. For now though, she knows she has been shown something of great significance. Something worth protecting, something that had taken a long and impossible journey to find. This memory was a precious one.
2--'s observation makes A2 look around for options. Their battle to the death is for now, forgotten.]
Has to be something here...
[As if formed from her thoughts, two flight units materialize in the distant fog. Because it's a dream, the strangeness of this doesn't occur to her.] Hey - over there!
[At times, the best thing two people trying to kill each other can do is mutually attempt to smash the thing that stands to get in the way of said killing.
2-- follows her opponent's direction, and nods when she spots the flight units, trotting over to one. Despite the outburst moments ago, she speaks somewhat restrained again.]
Transferring control.
[And then it's time for hopping into the rig, efficiently running through the takeoff sequence!]
[This is more familiar than that vision that had fallen over her mere moments ago. A2 slips into the combat suit with the fluid ease of someone who had done so a million times before: in drills, in a single doomed mission. Another memory across their shared database: A doll in dark clothing, surrounded by the chaos of an aerial battle, there in the cold vacuum of space. Everything's too fast, faster even than the doll, who had trained diligently for this moment. Her hands are shaking and she stills them by tightening them into fists.
In the present, A2's voice is like steel.] Assuming Captain's duties, [She says, as the red eye in the distance sends out a wall of anti-aerial ballistics.] spread out and find an opening!
[The red eye's gaze shifts from android to android, but soon they move too quickly for it to follow. The voice is as toneless as always as it booms from above: maternal and insidiously contemptuous.]
[At first, 2-- ignores the condescending voice. Don't be shaken by the emotions, not even from that flash of memory. Just focus on orienting the battle suit. Throw the equipment into maneuvering as fast as possible, and with a simple input, a burst of bullets trace a line across the sky, attempting to intercept the enemy's attack. At least enough to make a hole to slip the suit though.
The thought comes: Precision...not enough. Must. Be. Perfect.
Maybe that's why, moments later she thrusts the suit forward, finally answering that ominous eye.]
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expiationlogs2025-01-13 12:39 pm
no subject
It doesn’t matter what I think.
[She tries to get a counter in, but there’s never time. A2’s words have already hit home. (It comes back. Six months. Six months of no one but old computers greeting her by another name. Six months doggedly chasing one thing and always coming up with nothing.) Weapons clash pointlessly. Graceful as the two are, sooner or later, 2—-‘s foot comes down on one of her own body’s neck, just enough of an unsteady moment.
The sword bites into her arm, and 2—- clamps down on a pained sound. At least there’s a bit more color decorating this false city.]
You say that like there’s a choice. But you and I - what else do we have?
no subject
[She doesn't want to hear this — from her copy, her successor. That the version of herself that was meant to be better would still be trapped by their own weakness is too much to bear.
Instead of yanking her sword out, A2 pushes forward, then lifts her foot for a vicious kick to 2--'s chest.]
You weakling - you knew about everything! And you still just follow orders like a puppet!
[A2 stands above 2-- and seems to calm, suddenly. The bright sheen to her eyes dulls and frosts over.]
Just shut up, 2B.
[Her blade comes down.]
no subject
.dnuorg eht ot selbmut llod nekorb rehtona dna ,gnidnecsed ydaerla si edalb ehT .gnihtyna eciov ot ton tub ,thguoht a rof emit si erehT .kcab reggats reh sekam kcik ehT
2-- is more than a little curious about this false city. What was it based on, what might be hidden in it? But the mission has to be first. She frowns when she finds the mess. A2, and the copies littering the ground. Is this all they want? Is this enough for them?]
A2.
[2-- reaches over her shoulder to claim the weapon suspended over her back. What was it she’d brought this time - ah, yes. A short sword. Something close and personal.]
You know what I want.
no subject
Tiring of this, she tosses it at 2--'s feet.]
You really keep showing up. Did they forget my brain when they put you together?
no subject
It's not the worst thing being done. She wears a small frown when she answers.]
Is that so. What's supposed to be missing, that you have?
no subject
[Her response drips with condescension. She hasn't moved yet, but her gaze is hard and focused.]
You know what happened to me, and you still keep showing up. Every goddamn time I think you're finally gone for good, here you are again. My shitty little lapdog of a copy.
[A flicker of static streaks across the empty white sky, like a plume of lightning. A2 shifts on her makeshift throne of corpses to observe this anomaly. In the distance, white birds are startled out of a tree, casting stark, inky shadows over their battlefield.
A2 drops gracefully from her perch. Her heels click against the ground and echo in the vast space. Smoothly, she shifts into into a fighting stance: her blade level, her eyes cold. She tips her chin at 2-- in a gesture of subtle challenge.]
C'mon. Let's get this over with.
no subject
[Wait, that's not quite right, is it? 2-- is the one who keeps having to come back. 2-- looks up to the anomaly along with her predecessor, before returning her attention to her target.
The world can change. The dancers and their steps are the constant, and 2-- proves it by rushing in, sword flicking out first to try knocking A2's sword out of line and make an opening for a thrust.]
no subject
[Metal shrieks and sparks as their swords clash, again and again.] Looks like someone's finally awake-!
[There's rage in her voice, but also a manic sort of delight. Their dance is one of equals now, a true battle.]
Why don't you tell me all about my best qualities, huh?!
[Another streak of lightning-like static across the pale sky. It splits the white space in two, leaving a serrated tear like a ripped patch of fabric.
Two girls now sit where A2 had been, both clad in red and black, both with dark gray eyes that watch the androids in impassive judgment.
But A2 doesn't seem to notice.]
no subject
Right now, she can't spare time to give them a thorough look. 2-- has to focus on the bout. It's a lie to say it isn't exciting. There's few things like A2 in deadly motion. Angling blades at one another. Pushing in on the other one moment, retreating another. 2-- tries with everything she has to pierce A2.
But there are moments that she glances toward the two girls, and these moments can become cracks in her defense.]
Providing information to the enemy is a tactical error.
no subject
[Had she been like this? So cold, so controlled, so blindly adhering to the authority of YoRHa? Perhaps not the first two, but the last: yes, yes, a million times over yes. A fool in bondage to her superiors, left stranded in enemy territory and sentenced to death for no reason other than living in defiance of their orders.
This time, she and 2-- are evenly matched — mostly. But where 2-- can die and have her consciousness uploaded safely to the Bunker, A2 has no such guarantees. And so she fights with the ferocity of someone who knows that their death will be true and final. In one of the brief milliseconds of time that 2-- is distracted, A2's blade cuts open a cut so fine on her cheek that it's hard to tell she's struck until blood begins to trickle in a thin line, red filling up the wound and making it real.]
I drew first blood — answer me.
no subject
Her answer isn't right, exactly. It isn't what 2-- should say, anyway.]
We're willful. [Take the momentum, don't let A2 slip in another attack -] Unstoppable, even. [Trying to drive her sword through the wrist of A2's sword arm -] But with just enough compassion.
[Emotions may be forbidden, but 2-- does care about things.]
no subject
... What the hell are you talking about?
[The question is eerily soft. Unfortunately, it doesn't take long before her voice begins to raise in distressed anger.]
You think you're funny? You think this is a fucking joke?!
[In the staticky and torn patch of sky above, a dull red crescent of light glows like a moon rising. Like an eye opening slowly.
Beside 2--, Pod speaks:] Alert: Unit A2 utilizing B-Mode. Proposal: dodge.
[The Pod's words are swallowed by A2's furious scream.]
I'LL KILL YOU!
[The rush forward sends the fake white stone of the ground to split into segmented white cubes. A2 bears down on 2-- like a thing possessed.]
no subject
[Only sparing one word for Pod. There's no way to face an onslaught from A2 unscathed, especially not when heat radiates off the older attacker, and she moves so fast. 2-- doesn't give up ground, instead twisting with uncanny grace to narrowly escape relentless attacks. She bides her time, trying to swipe back at A2 in those moments.
But if A2 doesn't want to see a copy of herself, she should have had another quick kill. The longer 2-- lasts, the more the wear and tear of combat will bring the fresh-faced copy in line with her predecessor's appearance.]
You can't even pretend. You care enough to destroy yourself.
[And they'll do it under that watchful eye, won't they?]
no subject
And still, knowing this, she rages. She fights in this battle like it's her last one. Like it's as essential as breathing. She fights because to give up would be to dishonor the dead. She fights because she doesn't know what else to do. And she hates herself for wanting to give up at all. She hates 2-- for being too weak to surpass her, the both of them mirrors of her failure of self.]
Shut up... shut up! Why won't you just die? Why won't you — why won't you leave me alone?! [Her voice is choked; her vision blurs with tears. Weakling, she thinks. Coward.
The more distressed she becomes, the more viciously she fights. And as the crimson eye above them begins to blink sluggishly as it struggles to open fully, the two red clad girls look up at it in unison.]
Curious. [Says one.]
Curious. [Says the other.]
We don't recognize this machine. [The first replies.]
This is not one of our children. [The second says.]
[The two of them ask:] From where does it originate? The androids? [A pause.]
No. An anomaly.
no subject
Because she's just going to grit her teeth and stab again.]
I can't stop any more than you can.
no subject
She switches weapons in a flash. A blink and a greatsword cleaves through the air between herself and her opponent in a swing that makes the air scream around them.
Above, the red light blinks into alertness. An ominous spotlight falls on the two androids, painting them and the girls in the distance in foreboding scarlet.
A voice sounds from the heavens: cool and feminine, stripped of the complexities of human emotion.]
Access prohibited. Alpha override required. All data lost.
[Even an instant of hesitation would end in death. But still, this moment of wrongness settles underneath A2's skin like a burr.]
- What?
no subject
The tatters of the blindfold 2-- wears finally falls away.]
No.
[She doesn't pretend to be unaffected by this.]
Pod, can you salvage the data?
no subject
But the distress that she hears in 2--'s voice gives her pause. It's that hated empathy that they share — that YoRHa had tried so hard to destroy. Instead, A2 lowers her blade, and she stares up at the light in that gray sky.
A flick of her eyes in 2--'s direction.] What data? [...] The Bunker?
[Pod, ever obedient, attempts to retrieve the data. The data is an ocean, a flood of information. But it can't be read or understood. They scramble into incoherence.]
Data format unknown. Attempting decryption.
...
......
..........
Attempt failed. Access denied.
Starting attempt #2...
........
..........
[A2's gaze is still fixed on the spotlight, and the voice above speaks again in the flat, empty intonation of a machine.]
Breach detected. Antivirus measures initiated.
[And then, softly, edged with condescending pity:]
You are not allowed access. You know this.
no subject
Unacceptable. [Like 2-- should say. But then, with a sharp determination laced through with desperation:] I won't accept that.
[Her arm sweeps through the air, punctuating herself. HADES told Aloy once that this is Earth's last iteration. Its last chance.]
There has to be an access point - an override. There's always a way forward.
no subject
-What?
[A flash across both of their memories-
— blood pooling sluggishly from a head wound. She ignores the pain that pulses through her temple in an erratic heartbeat, willing it into nothingness before her nanomachines begin repair a split second later. She's more pristine here than 2-- has ever seen her, still in uniform, traversing a desert that stretches out as far as the eye can see. Her gaze is vacant, staring out at a point beyond the horizon as she walks forward. A lone figure in a barren ocean of sand.
She stops in front of the corpse of an android, the body long reduced to black exoskeleton, empty eye sockets filled with sand. There's a sword near this forgotten thing. The wind is still; the air dry and hot. The sun was very high in the sky, and it was dangerous for her to be out in the open.
A2 takes the sword. Then, she begins to dig a grave.
- In the present, A2 blinks, hard. Then she stumbles back, off balance.]
What the hell is going on...?
[Her jaw sets. She glares up at the eye above them. A machine.
It was always a goddamn machine. She wasn't going to get talked down to by one of them.]
- Hey, asshole! Are you gonna gloat, or are you gonna fight?
[The eye shutters closed.
Then, the sky splits open in a sea of pulsating red static. In the distance, the two red-clad girls slowly stand to watch this new phenomenon.]
How unusual, says the first.
We have not witnessed this step, says the other.
Something new?
Evolution. We will observe this anomaly, and use it to destroy the androids.
no subject
"Being smart will count for nothing if you don't make the world better!" they said.
"You have to use your smarts to count for something, to serve life, not death!" they said.
A body sat on the ancient bench as the hunter came close. Her Third Sight pierced the helmet it wore and she could see the woman beneath. It was the hunter, older, and peaceful in death.
This was the hunter's first treasure.
2-- scowls up at the sky. She's unsettled, and trying to twist that into an anger to fight with.]
If it won't come down, we'll need long-range combat options.
no subject
2--'s observation makes A2 look around for options. Their battle to the death is for now, forgotten.]
Has to be something here...
[As if formed from her thoughts, two flight units materialize in the distant fog. Because it's a dream, the strangeness of this doesn't occur to her.] Hey - over there!
no subject
2-- follows her opponent's direction, and nods when she spots the flight units, trotting over to one. Despite the outburst moments ago, she speaks somewhat restrained again.]
Transferring control.
[And then it's time for hopping into the rig, efficiently running through the takeoff sequence!]
no subject
"...No.1, down. A-assuming captain's duties! Spread out-!"
In the present, A2's voice is like steel.] Assuming Captain's duties, [She says, as the red eye in the distance sends out a wall of anti-aerial ballistics.] spread out and find an opening!
[The red eye's gaze shifts from android to android, but soon they move too quickly for it to follow. The voice is as toneless as always as it booms from above: maternal and insidiously contemptuous.]
You overreach yourselves.
no subject
[At first, 2-- ignores the condescending voice. Don't be shaken by the emotions, not even from that flash of memory. Just focus on orienting the battle suit. Throw the equipment into maneuvering as fast as possible, and with a simple input, a burst of bullets trace a line across the sky, attempting to intercept the enemy's attack. At least enough to make a hole to slip the suit though.
The thought comes: Precision...not enough. Must. Be. Perfect.
Maybe that's why, moments later she thrusts the suit forward, finally answering that ominous eye.]
You don't know how far we can get.