《No Longer Human (Goddess of Victory: Nikke SI)》 Chapter 1
"Of course, Director Syuen. I do believe this abnormal development during Nikke production is worth your attention," the Scientist said, as Syuen rolled her eyes. If this was a unique model, then she might be willing to put stock to his words. She looked down at the data slate in disgust, as the report made it clear that this was not the case. A mass production model, an 08, wasn''t worth her time, no matter how many oddities it had. "During the uploading process and the NIMPH memory wipe, there was an error. An emergent consciousness, as it were. Not the original mind, but a different one, with brain patterns unlike the original," the man continued, clearly trying to entice her. "If there was an error, get rid of it already. We do not need defective models," Syuen said, already preparing to head back out the door and fire the incompetent man for wasting her time. "It has allowed the subject to develop unique abilities," Syuen paused at his words. If what he said was true, then perhaps this mass-production model would have some use after all. "Go on," she found herself saying, now scanning over the documents once again. If a mass production model developed unique abilities, and this process could be replicated? It could very well help revolutionize Nikke production. Mass-produced Nikke''s were meant to be nothing but cannon fodder. If one''s combat capacities could be improved, it would certainly give Missilis an edge over the other two companies. Especially if it could be introduced to other models besides the 08. "Of course. There appear to be two primary benefits, though we are only able to test one with any degree of safety," Syuen raised her eyebrow, signaling the man to go on. "The emergence of this, consciousness, if you would, have resulted in an interesting, interaction with the NIMPH nodes. They''re mostly inactive, though memories can still be pulled from them. Mental inhibitors are also in place, though it is very much willing to push those inhibitors to their limits." That did not seem like much of an upside. If anything, it was nothing but a downside, if they retained that much free will, and based on the description, memories of their human existence. That would do little more than invite a Mind Switch, and that was something to be avoided. "Based on our Rapture research, however, this phenomenon might render the subject resistant or outright immune to Corruption," he continued. Syuen''s eyes widened slightly. Now that was worth something. That was worth quite a bit. Anti-corruption measures were, primitive, at best. It was possible to undo if a Nikke''s memory was completely wiped in around three hours of corruption, but there were downsides to reducing a Nikke to a blank slate. "I can see why such a thing would be difficult to test," Syuen said, looking over the data slate. That was a conundrum, wasn''t it? Not all Raptures could corrupt Nikke''s. Frankly, the event was rare. Getting a Nikke into a position where it could be corrupted without getting killed would be, difficult, on a good day. And if didn''t work, or didn''t work well enough, then you lost the asset. Still, it was something that could be brought up to the board. Announcing that Missilis had made advancements in anti-corruption technology may be a bit premature, but it would play well with the public. And the stocks. Still, given how infrequent corruption was, they could easily pass off any failures that may be encountered with careful wording. It might be possible to test if they brought a Rapture capable of corrupting Nikke''s into the Ark. Such an act would be illegal. If they were caught. Such Raptures were rare, however, and she already had her eyes on one particular target. One codenamed Chatterbox. It would be possible to kill two birds with one stone, but Chatterbox had proven to be, illusive, and she was barely any closer than when she started. Something to put the pin in, she supposed. As for the other ability. "Decrease refractory time in her nerve''s on command?" Syuen found herself asking aloud. That wasn''t the most impressive thing she had ever heard, but it was a drastic increase in a mass-production model''s combat abilities all the same. "Indeed. However, there is a downside, as the standard 08 model is not designed with the heat generated in mind. Syuen found herself frowning at the news. That did make sense, as that was indeed not what the model was built or designed for. Accounting for such an ability would warrant a redesign of the 08''s, making them more expensive. It would also allow them to charge more, though. A stronger model would be worth more, and that would offset the increased production costs. Syuen found herself nodding to her thoughts. Improving a mass production model would make for good PR as well, though it would take time to implement, and of course, it would take time to even see if it could be replicated. However, that would be far from problematic. "So, where exactly is the subject?" Syuen asked, noticing carefully how the man suddenly went pale. "The subject is currently in one of the specialized holding areas. As I said, during the process of erasing the subject''s memory, another sprung up in its place. As a result, it is very confused and very temperamental," he said, seemingly starting to sweat. "Attempts to erase this new memory have been met with failure." Syuen frowned. That would make things more, difficult. A large part of why a Nikke''s memory was erased was to prevent a Mind-Switch from occurring, so the fact there was a memory in place was concerning. However, the odds that this emergent consciousness was tied to the development of abnormal abilities were high, based on her suspicions. Not that it mattered much. In the end, it was Missilis property all the same. "Regretable, but what is done is done. Can it be made to cooperate?" She asked though Syuen suspected she already knew the answer. "Not without force, which is, unfortunately, proving troublesome," Syuen found herself raising an eyebrow. "During the initial attempt to detain the subject, it managed to wrestle away one of the security guard''s firearms." "I thought you said the NIMPH commands were working!" Syuen snapped, glaring daggers at the man. "They are, Ma''am. As I said, the subject is pushing against those restrictions. Yes, it can''t do anything to directly hurt a human, but it quickly put together that indirect or accidental harm is perfectly allowed, as are intentional yet non-lethal strikes," the man explained, as Syuen''s frown grew more and more. So the subject was only good as scrap, then. At least, it wasn''t going to be good for selling off, that was for damn sure. It would take a very tight-fisted commander to keep something like that in line, nor would it be effective in combat if it had to be managed to such an extent. Syuen was tempted to just order the subject to be scrapped. But the concept, what it represented, intrigued her. Yes, the initial model was buggy, but that was to be expected. Such things could be built upon and improved. Still, it would have to be made to bend the knee. To submit to it''s current reality. She didn''t get to do something like that all too often. "I would like to speak with. Try to get it to stand down before more, drastic, actions need to be taken," Syuen smiled. She might just get to enjoy herself today after all. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "Is this 08 313N?" Syuen asked over the microphone, transmitting her voice into the holding cell. The 08 looked erratic, frightened out of her wits, staying towards one of the corners, eyes flickering all over the room. "I have a name, you shit-eating ass muncher!" The 08s voice sounded just like every other 08, despite its clear anger. She could see why they considered it so problematic. It was aggressive, and certainly less than pleasant, given it''s swearing. "The only name you have that matters is 313N," Syuen said, keeping her tone even as if she was disciplining a child. "I would highly advise that you cooperate with me, given your present circumstances." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Go find a cactus and spin, you excrement-shaped taint!" The 08 model shot back, as Syuen ground her teeth. "Do you know who I am?" Syuen said through the line, glaring through the one-way mirror. "The Pope? The Queen of England? Perphas you''re going to tell me you''re the President of the United States. Or that your Ratata is in the top percentage. Frankly, you could be all of these things, I still wouldn''t give the slightest fuck ass as to who you are!" Again, the 08 model screamed. "All that matters is you''re the one who did this to me, you subhuman piece of waste!" "313N, we''ve told you, we have no idea as to why this happened, or how," the scientist spoke, trying to keep the subject calm. Something that Syuen could tell was a complete waste of time and effort. It didn''t want to be calm, it wanted to be angry, and thus, angry it would be. "My name isn''t 313N you taint sucker!" The subject snapped back, proving her point. "I have my rights, you fucks! You can''t keep me here like this." "You are a Nikke, 313N. You don''t have any rights," legally, this wasn''t entirely true. The events of thirty years ago did start a small civil rights movement, but with money like hers, and a facility like this? The consequences were easy to avoid, and the evidence easier to forage. But it was seemingly unlike that it knew anything about that. Pope? Queen? President? Those were titles out of a history book. Syuen wasn''t sure why that was the case, but she was going to use it to her advantage. "Bite my ass!" Was the quick response, as Syuen sighed. She expected that. It wasn''t going to listen, regardless. "It doesn''t matter, 313N. The reality is that you are effectively, the property of Missilis. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you are here either of your own free will or as punishment for crimes worthy of such an outcome. Either is without consequence to me. As far as the Ark is concerned, you either agreed to this or were sentenced to this. Whatever rights you think you have, whichever ones you pretend to exist, don''t," Syuen grinned despite herself, twisting the knife. Through the one-way mirror, she could tell the words were having an impact. "Get bent, you horse sucker!" Still, 313N seemed defiant. At least, willing to act as such. Her words were sinking in, but clearly, it had spite and anger to burn, despite that. "I didn''t sign shit! And I doubt you can prove any criminal record either, you greedy piece of human waste!" "I am offering you an easy way out, 313N. But if you continue to resist, force will be used against you," Syuen closed down the microphone in the cell, cutting off what could only be more curses. Her end, however, remained open. She wanted it to hear her, and not be able to do anything to interrupt. She''d prefer a comparative test subject, but her threat of force was not an empty one. Throwing enough guards at her could do the trick, but if it managed to successfully kill one, it would be a hassle to cover up. Using mass-produced models would be easier, but if they used 08 models while it was in such a state, then a Mind-Switch could be induced. Which would save her the pain, at the cost of the resource. Nothing was certain as far as it went, but would be beneficial to learn more. As CEO of Missilis, it wasn''t as if Syuen didn''t have a considerable amount of other assets. Matis may have been her best, but they didn''t have the skillset for such an issue. Syuen had to admit that shipping it off to Exotic had its appeal as a punishment, but that was counterproductive to her current aims, and it was already held by the M.M.R. Having Ether study its abilities would likely prove beneficial, but that would have to come later. Wardress was her best option, though Syuen was reluctant to call on them. They were busy hunting down Chatterbox, which was a valuable target. However, on the other hand, Wardress, despite the squad''s skill, hadn''t made much headway when it came to tracking down the Rapture. Chatterbox was illusive, and had avoided any traps Wardress had put in it''s way. She would have sent Matis, but the squad was too high profile for such a mission, and Wardress was uniquely suited to capturing a Rapture without destroying it. Given the lack of progress, perhaps pulling Wardress back for a vacation, of sorts, wouldn''t be such a bad idea after all. They certainly were no closer to catching Chatterbox than when they started, as much as that fact annoyed her. Having them deal with this problem, despite it being considerably more minor, could end up paying off. "As you can see, 313N is quite stubborn. It doesn''t quite understand what''s going on around it," the scientist said, stroking his beard. "I''ve considered calling in a Commander to, lay down the rules, as it were, but figured it would be best to have your blessing first on such matters." Calling in a Commander was not an idea Syuen had considered, and for good reason. He was correct, that a Commander would be the best way to get a Nikke to bend their knee, as it were. NIMPH made it so no Nikke could resist a direct order from a Commander. Needing to bring in a Commander to force a Nikke to bend the knee, much less a mass-produced model would reflect poorly on Missilis as a company, and could not be permitted. "Only do so when we exhaust all other available options," Syuen said firmly. "We should only contact outside aid in this matter as a last resort, understood? "Yes Ma''am," the scientist said, nodding. Good. Syuen did not want to deal with this incident reaching the public eye. While it could pay off, the full story would need to be kept under wraps. Calling in a Commander, even if sworn to secrecy, could jeopardize that, something Syuen would not permit. "For the time being, try to enforce compliance through more, traditional means. If this doesn''t work, I''ll contact Wardress. That will allow us to keep disciplinary measures in-house," Syuen didn''t like it, but if normal measures didn''t work, then only the Wardress squad would serve her aims in this manner. Ether could probably break 313N in her way, but until the process could be replicated, consistently, it would be better to try and keep 313N alive. "Wardress, Ma''am?" The scientist seemed less than pleased. "Is torture necessary? It may be problematic, but such measures seem harsh." "Then make sure that it is not necessary," Syuen glared up at the man. "I''d rather keep them assigned on their actual mission, rather than deal with this. If you see to it that such measures are unnecessary, then you won''t have to worry about them." Still, internally, Syuen smirked. While they couldn''t hear whatever 313N was saying, their voices were carrying over to 313N in its cage. It was hearing every word of their conversation, and that was exactly what she wanted. Wardress was her black ops squad, and only a handful knew of its existence, and even then, very little was known. She knew that the squad would obey her orders if Wardress proved to be a necessary step. They were just as much of a tool of intimidation in this case as they were a threat. If the scientist found Wardress to be excessive, then ideally, the mere threat of their presence would be enough to cow 313N and make it submit. Ideally, of course. Syuen fully expected the squad to be necessary, if only to show 313N that her threats were not empty ones. A day spent with Wardress would likely go a long way to ensure obedience. Maybe even giving it time to see what a Nikke''s purpose was would go a long way. After all, they couldn''t have one of their models running away from a Rapture on sight, either. One way or another, 313N, or more accurately, it''s ability, could just be what Missilis Industries needed to reclaim its place at the top. A drastic and consistent improvement in the mass-produced models, especially if it could be replicated beyond the 08, was a swing in their favor. And she wasn''t going to let some scrap heap stop her, just because it thought it had Human Rights. Chapter 2 Warning! This chapter includes a depiction of torture. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "We should be able to replicate decreased nerve refractory period throughout the rest of the 08 line, even if it isn''t as effective as it is for 313N," Syuen smiled at the news. "The effect should be artificially induced, meaning that there will be little need to deal with the aggressive personality shift." That was even better news, and exactly what she wanted to hear. "It seems that Wardress performed most admirably," it was a shame to pull them out of the field, but they needed to keep 313N in one piece, and they were the best option for such a task. "It was considerably more problematic than Mihara would like to admit. It took Yuni disabling 313N''s motor functions before we could start to run tests," Syuen found her eyebrow-raising. Mihara''s ability to swap her senses with any target of her choice should have been more than sufficient, even if 313N tried to circumnavigate her NIMPH. The pain 313N would have inflicted upon itself should be sufficient enough to incapacitate it. "How did 313N manage such a feat?" Syuen asked. Certainly, doing so had not been an easy task by any measure. "Well." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x Children? They were willing to send children? I knew something was wrong with these people, but that they were willing to sink to such lows as using children as living shields? How amoral were people? Maybe I shouldn''t be surprised that they would be willing to stoop to such lows. They did God knows what with my body. Without my consent, should I add? I didn''t sign up for any surgery! I didn''t sign any papers to give me breasts! Never mind whatever the hell else they''ve done to me! I hadn''t eaten in days, yet I didn''t feel the slightest bit of fatigue. I was too stressed to sleep either, figuring that they would send in thugs the moment I tried to rest my eyes, but I wasn''t feeling any of the side effects that came with sleep deprivation. And despite my thin frame, I was still easily able to lift a 200-pound man with minimum effort. A feat that I certainly would not be able to accomplish previously. There was one problem. There were moments when my body simply wouldn''t listen to me. I hadn''t figured out an exact pattern, at least, not yet. But as far as I could tell, I couldn''t hurt people. At least, not severally. Either with my fists, or any weapons. I couldn''t even throw them that hard. It was, disgusting. I couldn''t describe the disconnect, where your mind wanted to do something, and yet your body just refused. I couldn''t even use firearms all too well. I just had to close my eyes, aim low, and hope for the best. Anything that was intentionally hurting another human being was an act my body now refused to allow. Accidently? That was a completely different matter. If we were outside, and I had a shovel, a knife, an axe, and an abundance of tree branches, I''d make sure they''d be in for a world of hurt. But instead, I''d been backed into a box, more or less a holding cell. The microphone outside was rarely turned off, if ever, so I heard all sorts of voices. I was unsure where exactly I was. A laboratory was the obvious answer, but there had to be more of it than that. But I''d heard several, including that brat-sounding person who appeared to be in charge, call me a Nikke. I wasn''t a stranger to Greek mythology, so the name being similar to Nike, the Greek Goddess of Victory drew my attention. What that could mean, I wasn''t exactly sure. There had to be a connection, or at least, there should be one, but I was too stressed to think about what those were. Which turned me back to the two strangers. The aforementioned child was short, with short black pants. Her shirt was white with long sleeves, with what could pass off as a small red tie, but a portion was covered by a black band that started at her belt and went up to her chest. Her inexplicably pink hair was done up in twin tails, with red bows. The concerning part was her weapons. While the whip could be explained away if one was willing to stretch things for what they were worth, there was zero reason to hand a child a rocket launcher! Seriously, how was she even able to carry that on her back? The second was even odder. The white coat she had wasn''t even slung over her shoulders, though with her outfit, the fact she had something to cover herself made perfect sense. It looked like black, glossy, leather, from her stockings to her short skirt, to what could generiously be called a minimalist tank top. Thin bands ran between each portion of her outfit, all the way up to her chocker, which had a silver chain attached to it, making it closer to a collar than anything else. She had long black hair, and I could see the stock of a gun over her shoulder, meaning she was also armed. At least she was older, probably closer to my age, compared to the child standing next to her. I clutched the rifle I''d managed to wrangle away from one of the guards. They were armed, and that was a statement in and of itself, but at the same time, they weren''t doing anything. Were they this Wardress the brat threatened me with over the intercom? And why was one of them a child? This was the torture I''d been threatened with? Frankly, I was seeing only one reason not to start spraying and praying. And that reason was likely not what they thought it would be. I had no interest in hurting a child, no matter how desperate I was to get away from these lunatics. "Look, just let me go, and," I didn''t get to finish, as the whip in the young girl''s hand suddenly lashed out. I didn''t think much of it. I could lift a full-grown man with ease. What was a whip going to do to hurt me? The next thing I knew, I found myself flying backward, pain screaming in my chest. My back hit the wall with a crack, concrete crumbling in a blow that should have broken my spine. It didn''t, but still hurt. I managed to land on my feet, my legs still quaking from the pain. Then they suddenly fell out from under me, as they went numb. My chin hit the floor with a loud crack, though the pain was surprisingly dull, as the taller woman seemed to rub her chin. "Are you done yet?" It was the tall one who spoke first, her voice smooth, but there was a glint in her eye. I tried to push myself up off the ground, but my limbs refused to obey their commands. All I could do was glower up at them like an animal, and I didn''t even have the dignity of being able to fight back. "Fuck. Off!" I snarled though I knew it wasn''t going to do me any good. I could barely feel my arms and legs, much less move them. How was that even possible? What did they do to me? It was like when I couldn''t hit someone, except, even more drastic. "Did you hear that Yuni? She still wants to play!" The tall one spoke again as the pink-haired girl smiled, drawing a pistol and pointing at the taller woman. What was she doing? BANG! There was a screaming voice echoing in my ears. It was, mine? How? She was the one that got shot! So why did it HURT so much? How did it hurt? How? I couldn''t even move my arms to cradle my stomach. All I could do was scream, my mind struggling to process the pain. I hadn''t been shot. But I felt it, the raw pain as the bullet passed through what should be my stomach, even if it wasn''t there. BANG! This time, it felt as if the bullet tore its way through my lungs. My breathing studdered, my lungs believing they had been pierced by a projectile. My screams of pain became faint, but if I could scream louder, I would. CRACK! This time, the pain didn''t come from a gunshot, but rather my knee felt like it had been completely shattered. I howled in pain, my voice returning to me, even though I wished it had stayed gone. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the tall one grab hold of her leg, twisting it again. The pain came back, as tears continued to pour out of my eyes from the agony my body was going through. It hurt it hurt it hurt IT HURT! Then the pain stopped. The memory lingered, but the worst was gone. The tall woman smiled down at me. But the receding pain gave me time to think. When she was hurt, I felt it. The pain she should be feeling. But did that mean she would take on the pain I would otherwise feel? I couldn''t move. There was no way I could injure myself enough to matter. Bashing my chin against the floor would hurt, but it wouldn''t stop her. Breaking my jaw would take too long when I was in agonizing pain. There was a way, but would it work? If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. I felt something beneath me. Something wet. Was I bleeding? I couldn''t look down, as it hurt to even think, much less move, but I think I was bleeding. Then I might be able to, well, I couldn''t win. Even if I somehow managed to incapacitate these two, what was I supposed to do? Hostages could have use, as much as it disgusted me to even consider such an option, but the moment whichever of the two it was that could stop me from moving I was cooked. Frankly, the only option in play was to make them lose just as hard as I did. It sucked, it really did, but even if I could make my way past them, I''d have to fight my way through any remaining security measures. And then beyond that, who knows where I was? Probably somewhere far away from any civilization, as there is no way this crap could even be remotely close to legal. So this had to be someplace where the government didn''t have eyes or ears. "You know, Yuni and I can keep this up all day long," the tall woman grinned, a look matched by her partner in both it''s pure maliciousness and glee. "So just give up already and be a good little 08." "Put a sock in it, you sadist lunatic," I ground out, my voice raw with pain. Still, I smirked, despite myself. "This is to the pain." I had something in my sleeve, one of the many changes to my body I had noticed. And this one, it seemed, was not intended by the freaks who did this to me. I could move faster, and react quicker, even more so than I already was, on command. There was a downside. I could only maintain it for a few seconds before it started to hurt. Badly. As if someone had set the base of my skull on fire. I didn''t know how long I could push it, or how bad the consequences would be if I tried. Given the pain, it was very worth the risk. But they didn''t know about the side effects. It wasn''t like I was going to tell them. Why was I going to tell them anything at this point? They weren''t intent on listening. Cruelty was the only game they had, and unfortunately for them, I was more than willing to play. "To the pain?" The woman cocked her head in confusion, before stepping on my head, heel first, digging into my flesh. "Do you not understand who you''re dealing with here?" "Careful Mihara. Syuen doesn''t want her dead," Yuni frowned, and I could practically hear the yet in her voice. Mihara huffed, taking her foot off my head, before kicking me in the face. "Besides, do you think she can take much more of this?" I scowled at them, but I did my best to keep my mouth shut. Keep glaring at them in clear defiance. "We''ll find out soon enough." Click. The moment the hammer on the gun came back, I activated the power they had found so valuable. Time slowed down as my nerves sped up. BANG! I watched as the bullet came out of the barrel of the firearm. The moment it began piercing Mihara''s flesh, I came to a realization. I hadn''t thought this through. I hadn''t thought this through at all. It hurt. The pain from feeling the bullet push through my body was, beyond words. I felt it, inch by inch, as it tore its way through my body. It HuRt. One second. BANG! A second bullet began tearing into my shoulder, while the first still felt as if it was somewhere in my lungs. AgOnY. I couldn''t tell if the buzzing my ears were my muted screams, or if my voice had completely broken. Two seconds. BANG! I couldn''t even tell where the bullet hit me. It could have been anywhere. My whole body hurt, the pain was EvErYwHeRe. Three seconds. Despite everything, I knew. Through all the pain, I knew. Three seconds was my limit. Pass that point? Was when things started getting dangerous. BANG! This time, there was no pain. Through the fog, I watched as Mihara staggered, trying to reach something at the back of her neck. "Mihara! Are you okay?" Yuni''s voice sounded panicked, as the taller one continued to sway. "You!" Mihara ground out, glaring down. "What are you doing to me?" I tried to open my mouth, but the pain was too much. Four seconds. "Answer her!" Yuni kicked me in the face, sending my limp frame into a wall. Despite it all, I smiled. Even if I could talk, with my body like this, I don''t think she could understand a word I was saying. Mihara screamed, clawing at the back of her neck, trying to dig out what was causing her pain. I grinned slowly, a faint scent making its way to my nose. The smell of something burning. Five seconds. "Fuck. You." Suddenly, the pain from bullets was gone, replaced by a sensation of fire, overriding the pain with a blazing inferno of hot agony. Then darkness. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "Thankfully, we were able to put out the fires before they could cause further damage to 313N," the man said. "We always knew there would be heat issues, but we didn''t realize that they would be severe enough to make for a suicide switch. This will be rectified, in both an improved heat sink and hardwired restrictions on how long the decrease in nerve refractory can be used for." Syuen sat still, stunned. Yes, one could argue that the matter was simply one of hindsight and that the matter provided valuable data on how the ability of 313N worked. But that wasn''t what she was focusing on. 313N could have killed Mihara. Nikke''s being destroyed, even the unique ones was their purpose, yes. After all, technology marched onward, and those who couldn''t keep up would eventually be left behind. But that was not Mihara''s time, not yet. The Nikke still had more value to give to Missilis. And 313N tried to rob her and the company of that value. She wanted to destroy the rebellious mass-produced model and be done with it before now. Now? Death and destruction were simply too good of a fate for it. To clean. To simple. It defied her, it defied Missilis, and it nearly destroyed a resource much more valuable than itself in the process. That was something she could not, would not, stand. But what exactly to do with it? It would take time to get the new models ready for production, as well as see if the older models could be refitted with such advancements. That alone would make Missilis a significant amount of money. Showing it off the military as a demonstration of the new 08''s abilities would be nice, but given its rebellious nature, it would certainly try to make a mess of that, which would reflect poorly on the company. Sending it off to Crow had it''s appeal. Exotic would tear it apart. But sending out a mass-produced model to the Outer Rim could blow the group''s cover. Or maybe its rebellious nature would cause the group to strain more against their bomb-laden collars. Giving it a unique body would solve the former issue, but at the cost of money Syuen was never going to sink into it. Keeping it as a test subject for the M.M.R would certainly make 313N suffer, but it was clear that without Yuni around, they probably wouldn''t be able to run tests on anything but 313N''s head, and that would limit any findings. "As such, we had to use Yuni''s power to restrain 313N constantly. 313N, despite everything, wasn''t willing to kill itself, so we were able to at least get some more data out of it," the scientist went on. "We were able to modify 313N''s base body so it wouldn''t be able to push beyond three seconds, as an added security measure." The man''s words gave Syuen an idea. Sending 313N to a third party was out, for various reasons. And it couldn''t just be placed in any squad, either. It needed someone willing, or able, to hold it on a tight leash, to make sure it obeyed. "Do you think it would be possible for Mihara to swap the nerves of two other people?" Syuen asked, crossing her legs. "Without using herself as an intermediary?" "It''s, hypothetically possible, though I don''t see what that has to do with 313N," the scientist said, giving her a confused look, as Syuen shook her head. "You said that 313N managed to do significant damage to itself by nearly melting its protective casing around the brain, did you not?" Syuen smiled, partially grinning ear to ear. The scientist''s eyes widened. "You do wish for a way to shut off the safety measures as well?" He asked. "One for Yuni or Mihara, if you don''t mind," Syuen knew that Wardress wouldn''t exactly like the third wheel. But it would either die to a Rapture, or Yuni and Mihara would make it fry its brain to bring down Chatterbox. That would be sufficient recompense for the trouble it caused her. Chapter 3 "What?" the shocked reaction would have been music to my ears in pretty much any other context. The look on their faces if the police were breaking down the door on their inhumane experiments would be something I''d cherish for the rest of my life. If that was what was actually happening. And it was not. I''d still be probably excited either way, but the source was someone who couldn''t seem to figure out a smart idea if it decided to chomp right down on their rear end. "Yeah, I''m not above agreeing with the two that spent time torturing me, you are a complete and utter dumbass," I snapped. My words resulted in me falling to the floor, my legs no longer functioning, but this was frankly a regular occurrence, and a consequence of me even considering speaking my mind around Yuni. The brat, also called Syuen, who was somehow a CEO and my ''boss'', or, quite frankly, not beating around the bush, owner, looked down at me the same way someone looked at dog shit. I''d kick her if I could, but I was immobilized by the other psychotic youngster in the room. "I wasn''t aware I asking for opinions. I''m giving your orders. Follow through with them," the child-sized CEO took her eyes off me to glare at the other two. It was strange to see the two of them so cowed. Mihara did her best to avoid me after that incident, but Yuni was intent on paying me back in full for nearly frying her brain alongside my own. Mihara wasn''t above joining in on her teammate''s fun once I had been immobilized if need be. So to see them cowed by a slip of a girl that either of them could break over their knees in theory was, surprising. Sure, if they were anything like me, there was nothing they could physically do to hurt the brat, but that was its own problem. There were other ways to hurt people than violence. "Well, given that you''re giving stupid orders, I''m electing to ignore them," I ground out, as Syuen sent me a glare that could have outright killed me. I wonder if I can get her to kick me in the face. Might break her foot. "I get that you''re probably not used to getting your ego checked, but I''m going to give you a little piece of advice. Sending out someone who has no military training onto a highly classified black ops squad? Not the smartest of ideas." "Frankly, we''re more concerned about you stabbing us in the back," Mihara glared down at me. If I could have, I would have shrugged. That was a perfectly fair concern to have, to be honest. I probably would, if I thought I could get away with it. "A concern I''ve more than accounted for," Syuen handed her small button. "This is a manual control and override button for her enhanced nerves. Think of it as a slower, far more painful, and considerably less devastating suicide bomb. If it tries to betray you, all you have to do is hit the button. The problem will resolve itself shortly. You have my expressed permission to do so." I scowled. Of course, that would be the first thing she''d go to. What else could be expected from someone who clearly never learned what a carrot was, and why they were so much more effective at getting what you wanted than a stick. The unspoken threat was obvious, too. Syuen hated my guts. I hated hers too, but at least I had reason to despise the half-pint Human Rights violator. She probably had one of her own, and frankly, could hit it any time she wanted to. Not like anyone was going to find my corpse in this place if they could make kill switches with this degree of ease. That was going to be an absolute fucking problem. I had no idea what the range on those things even was. I highly doubt it was infinite, but I certainly didn''t know. And the odds of them functioning as a kill switch being the trick it had was much, much too low for my tastes. Not only that, I had no way to guarantee I''d get them all even if I tried to deal with them. They could just make more. I could read between the lines well enough. Syuen made good on her threat to have a gun to my head. Did I try to get her to pull the trigger? Doubtful. She viewed me outright as an it. An expendable thing. She could kill me the same way she would kill a bug. Without the slightest thought. If I wanted to live, I would have to play her stupid game. Which meant biding my time. Frankly, if I understood Wardress''s job, they were meant to be a sort of special operations unit. Something meant to do whatever it was Syuen wanted. Something that certainly wouldn''t be getting up to legal activities. Frankly, it would be a Hail Mary, regardless. Syuen was rich and had plenty of power. But being an eyewitness to her little black book, shit the public wasn''t supposed to know about? Of course, I wasn''t going to say it like that at this point. If she was going to make that mistake, I was more than willing to let that go uncorrected. I already gave her an out as was. If she wanted to go through with this, then I was more than willing to do so. I was just going to have to try to keep myself alive in the meantime until I could whistleblow her entire operation wide open. Would it work? Hopefully. I wasn''t thinking too far ahead, trying to keep my options open. I still had pretty much no idea what was going on here. I had no explanation for what had been done to me, or why I was being treated like this. I figured I wouldn''t like the answers, but I needed to know what the hell was going on. "Now that I''ve made myself clear, get 313N out of my sight," Syuen waved her hand as if the gesture would make us vanish from view. "You''ll receive orders on your next operation soon." "And what should we do about 313N?" Yuni asked. "If it''s incompetent as it claims to be, throw it into the training simulator we have on hand. If nothing else, it should give it some knowledge on what exactly to expect. Just keep it away from the central one. I''d rather not give the investors a bad impression," Syuen rolled her eyes as if that was the obvious answer. Investors? Really? Just how messed up was this company that this would be brought up with the investors but not a peep to the outside world? At least I could move my legs again, a sure sign that it was time to leave. Part of me wanted to flip Syuen off on my way out the door, but giving the person who could kill me without a second thought even the slightest reason to do so sounded like a terrible idea. Not until I could get out from her iron thumb. At least I was being given enough dignity to carry myself out the door. Even if that meant I was going to have to deal with whatever this simulation room was. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "What the hell is this shit!" I struggled against the blue plates that made up what was my ''combat uniform''. The black bodysuit was simple enough, if very tight against my frame, but the armor covering it was a different matter. It wasn''t like I didn''t understand its function. It was some type of bulletproof protection, like the stuff soldiers got. Still, the idea of being a soldier against my will rankled me. I was effectively just raw meat to throw into the grinder by Syuen''s estimate, but I wasn''t a trained soldier. I understood why it was important, but understanding the why was putting me not a step closer to putting it on. "Yuni, hold her still!" Mihara and Yuni were trying to help, much to their frustration. "Okay!" the girl smiled, as my body suddenly went numb, causing me to collapse onto the floor. "Because that helped the first time," I ground out. Of course, the scientists got it wrapped up inside her head that keeping me still meant taking away my ability to move completely. Mihara pushed my body up, using gravity to hold one of the metal plates to my back as she fastened the one in the front. "Now try not to forget your helmet," Mihara scowled, an expression I returned. Feeling finally returned to my legs I stood up, scooping up the piece of armored headwear. At least the visor was see-through. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x It felt weird holding a gun. It was hardly the first time in my life, nor was it the second. But the fact they were just, letting me walk around with a gun after everything that had happened was, kind of crazy. Sure, Yuni could put a stop to anything I did, and I couldn''t kill anyone anyway, but was it that little of an issue? Frankly, nobody seemed to be giving me a second glance. Like I hadn''t just tried to tear this place apart. I kept my eyes on a pivot, keeping myself alert to what was happening around me. This place looked like some mad scientist''s haven. These people could tell me they employed Frankenstein, and I''d believe them. Something drew my eye though, my steps faltering. I gazed forward, brain stuttering as if it was having a hard time processing what exactly it was seeing. It was my face, the face of the body I was in. Not once, not twice, easily dozens of them. The same silver hair, the same green eyes. The same armor, with not a distinctive feature among them. "What the hell?" I found myself asking, finally alerting the two members of Wardress that I had fallen behind. Why were there so many with copies of my face? "Continue to the simulation room are we''ll drag you there," Yuni threatened, as I glared down at her. "Why are there people with my face?" I demanded, tempted to lower myself down to her eye level to prove a point. "You know exactly why, 313N. Stop being stubborn. We will not hesitate to drag you," Mihara threatened, as I resisted the urge to growl. "Lead the way then," I crossed my arms in a huff, before muttering under my breath. "If I knew the answer I wouldn''t be asking the question, dumbass." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "She''s really bad at this," Yuni''s statement was accurate. Blunt, but accurate. Getting 313N into her armor was a task and a half, something that tickled at the back of her mind even now. Mihara watched as 313N weaved through pillars around the fire of simulated Raptures, a look of panic clear on her face. So far, she hadn''t fired her rifle even once in self-defense. Which went beyond bad. Frankly, the display she was seeing should have been impossible. What type of mass-produced model didn''t know how to use their armor and weapons? That information was pre-entered, even before NIMPH was injected. And while it could just be the 08 model being rebellious, as Syuen had told them, this seemed different. Confusion, in comparison to outright resistance. Mihara had seen what happened when 313N wanted to be difficult. She could still feel a faint twinge of pain. This wasn''t it. This was panic, someone who''d never seen a Rapture before, and had no idea how to fight one. This was true for some, but most knew how to properly fight, and at least make some sort of stand. Something was wrong here. A mass-produced Nikke wouldn''t be able to fake this type of incompetence. At least, it shouldn''t be able to. Especially one so fresh off the assembly line. She should know how to put on her armor, she should know how to use her gun. She should know that she was mass-produced. How could she not know these things? Every Nikke should understand their situation. If she didn''t? Then what exactly had gone wrong? A Nikke should know what a Rapture was. A Nikke should know what a mass-produced model is. So why didn''t she? Was 313N that good at faking things already? Or was she truly ignorant? And if she was, what exactly did that mean? Did 313N even know she was a Nikke? The question was an impossibility. It should have never crossed her mind. And yet, here she was, contemplating it. Was 313N unaware of her nature? If she was, suddenly the previous events were shown in a different light. Resistance for the sake of resistance became ignorance, quite possibly, even panic. An act of rebellion became desperation and even fear. Someone causing trouble for the sake of trouble became a person who had little to no clue what was going on around them. Mihara had no idea how such a thing was even possible. It shouldn''t. It just didn''t happen. It shouldn''t happen. The odds of that wouldn''t even be one in a billion. They would be so astronomically small that they shouldn''t have been realistically possible. It wasn''t intentional. At least, it was unlikely that it was. Being unaware of what they were, but at the same time knowing something was wrong? That was never going to invite anything good. Mind Switch, or even worse. That implied several things, a Mihara didn''t like a single one of them. What exactly had to have happened to get something like this? Was the person still there? Surely not, at least, not exactly. Even if how Nikke''s were made wasn''t, wholly understood by the public, what a Nikke was? That was more than understandable for some random citizen. How do you get someone who didn''t know what a Nikke was? Someone from the Outer Rim, maybe, but even that was stretching it. Ignorance on that front could only go so far, and 313N sounded like she had at least some degree of education, even if her manners were lacking. Perhaps, understandably so. But at the moment, she was operating off conjecture. Mihara would need to ask 313N for information, but given what had happened, getting honest answers out of them would prove to be a troubling task. One worth the pain, maybe, but she and Yuni made any attempt at connecting with 313N much more difficult than it needed to be. But what was done was done, and they had their orders. If 313N were human, that would complicate her feelings on what had transpired considerably more. But she had her orders, no matter how much she didn''t like them. "She finally managed to get one!" Yuni''s voice broke Mihara from her thoughts, and she looked up just in time to see one of the many fake Raptures fall. However, it wasn''t a good thing, as 313N had already been forced behind cover, which was rapidly degrading. Then there was a faint flicker, before 313N seemingly vanished into thin air, only to appear behind another pillar. That was promising, if little else. There could be room for improvement. Such as shooting her weapon when she did that little trick of hers. Still, her eyes flickered around. She and Yuni were far from the only ones watching the display. Several scientists also observed, taking various notes and recording data about what they were seeing. 313N''s display wasn''t awful if one accounted for the fact she rarely fired her weapon. After all, she hadn''t been registered as defeated by the simulation yet. Yet. She hadn''t lost yet. And since she wasn''t killing targets fast enough, more and more Raptures were piling up, their shots breaking apart cover in a relentless barrage of shells. While the potential was there, this could still prove to be problematic in the field. Something they could ill afford, given the nature of the missions they received. What Syuen had been thinking was fairly obvious in assigning 313N to Wardess, and it was going to cause problems. They had some time to fix said issues, but it would be an uphill battle. She listened in on some of the scientists. 313N had been causing issues for a while before Yuni and she were called in to sort out the problem. They might have more of an idea of her nature, as it were, and how this whole mess came about. "I think 313N is in a near-perpetual state of Mind Switch, or close to it," Mihara found herself regretting listening in already. Was that something they were floating about as an idea? You did not try and cause a Mind Switch in a Nikke if you valued your life. You didn''t even try to push it that far. "Given the state in which 313N returned to consciousness, this hypothesis is, possible," another said, jotting down a few notes. "The insistence that 313N gives that it is human is abnormal, in that context." Mihara felt herself frown. She had noticed that from 313N. She genuinely felt that she was still human. Denial could explain that, a refusal to accept her present reality. But that was playing a very dangerous game. 313N snapping would be, disastrous, on numerous fronts, especially on an operation. But how do you tell that to someone? Much less have them listen to you about a matter they do not wish to hear about? Especially when 313N already had no reason to listen to them? Sure, there was the button, Syuen''s suicide switch that might as well poison any attempt at gaining any goodwill. But that was the problem. 313N had already shown they were willing to kill themselves if it meant possibly killing her. Hitting that button wasn''t the threat that Syuen thought it was. 313N was at least, already willing to die, if only in part. Another reason why Mihara did not want 313N assigned to Wardess. 313N was willing to get herself killed out of, some sense of spite, Mihara supposed. That was a liability and yet another issue that needed to be addressed. But with the button existing, and Syuen making such a show out of it, the odds of 313N being willing to talk, well, willingly, with either of them. Never mind that their treatment of her, orders or not, would sour her considerably to such talks. If she didn''t understand what a Nikke was, then she wasn''t going to understand that, either. "And there she goes," Yuni said, as 313N was defeated in the simulation. It didn''t take long for her to find the exit, and she was fuming. Though the expression of anger was something Mihara had begun to consider her default trait, which looked odd on the face of the normally serine 08. She had already torn her helmet off, holding it in her free hand. Already Mihara was ill at ease. Between the thoughts bouncing around in her head, and the fact 313N looked as if she was about to embed the helmet into the nearest surface, whatever it was be damned, this wasn''t going to go well. She gently nudged Yuni, hoping to signal to her partner that it would be best for her to handle the talking. "That was terrible," Yuni spoke her mind in an instant instead. "You had some interesting moments, but that was about it." "I''m so glad you were entertained," if words were knives, Yuni would have been stabbed repeatedly. "Just what the hell were those things?" A deep, sinking feeling appeared in Mihara''s core. 313N had no idea what a Rapture was. If she had no idea what a Rapture was, then she truly knew nothing. And if she knew nothing? "Come on, you should know what already! What type of Nikke doesn''t know what a Rapture¡­" BOOM! The sound wasn''t like a gunshot, but it was loud. 313N blurred into movement, and before anyone could react, had nearly thrown a powerful kick. 313N''s armored boot hovered mere Centimeters away from Yuni''s chest. If it had connected, the damage would have been, significant. 313N''s eyes were pointed, but at the same time, puffy and red. She held it for a moment, holding the room in stunned silence, the only noise coming when 313N brought down her leg, stomping her foot against the ground with enough force to break the floor. "How many times do I have to spell this out for you fuckers!" 313N screamed, her voice so loud that Mihara would be surprised if the entire building didn''t hear her words. "I haven''t understood a damn thing since I woke up with some fucker with his hand in my chest, messing around with what should be my fucking heart!" Chapter 4 "I don''t think she knows, Yuni," Mihara said, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Her partner shifted her feet, clearly uneasy about the conversation at hand. "I know it shouldn''t be possible, but." Her words hung in the air. It was later in the day. 313N had caused quite a stir with the stunt of hers, but the fact it had been aimed at Yuni''s chest, rather than somewhere more vital, avoided the worst of things. Though they still weren''t cleared to get her out, though that was going to be a problem of its own. To the average citizen, Yuni and herself were just regular humans. For 313N? It was hypothetically possible for her to pass as a human. But most civilians knew what a mass-produced Nikke looked like. Getting 313N out to await a mission was complicated by that simple fact. Sneaking her back wouldn''t be easy, but it also might just be necessary. Even if she was in desperate need of combat training as well, keeping her here was not good for her mental health. Somebody was going to press the Mind Switch button eventually, and then they''d all be in trouble. And it wasn''t helping matters that 313N seemed to be intent on staring at that abyss until someone blinked. Though it wasn''t like getting 313N to accept the situation would be a simple task, either. How could it? She had no context for what was going on, or even what a Rapture was. And that was dangerous. "What can we do about it? She isn''t going to listen to us," Yuni responded with a huff. Part of the problem was, she wasn''t wrong, either. 313N wasn''t going to listen to them. It was understandable as to why, but presently no less problematic. Frankly, the only way to get her to listen was to show her. With her own eyes and ears. 313N was likely to dismiss anything less out of hand. Which proved to be a self-feeding loop. 313N needed to be prepared to fight Raptures. But the only way to convince her that Raptures were real, would be to show her Raptures in person, rather than a hologram or training simulation. "Showing her evidence would help if little else," Mihara said, frowning. But how to do that? Syuen viewed 313N as little more than cannon fodder at best, and a suicide bomb at worst. Getting her first-hand experience would be best. "A mission, maybe? Something simple, such as search and destroy?" This time Yuni gave her a look. "A mission like that would see a Commander assigned to the team. With how she acted with Syuen, what makes you think involving a Commander would be a good idea?" Mihara found herself pausing. "It would be the fastest Court Martialing in the Ark''s history," she muttered. If 313N was unable to hold her tongue against Syuen, one of the big three, she certainly wasn''t going to restrain herself with a Commander. Something that would most likely end with her death, on or off the battlefield. 313N would not know how to handle a Commander in the field at all. The only thing that could keep her safe is if they had a rookie. Those only had a thirty percent survival chance. Of course, thirty percent survival was still not a guarantee. Mihara scowled. There went that idea. There had to be something they could do to convince 313N, on all fronts. But the how remained illusive. There had to be some way to get through to 313N. One that didn''t put her at risk of dying, or throwing her into the deep end straight away. Because at the end of the day, she was practically a civilian. Someone who should have no place on the battlefield. No training, NIMPH for unknown reasons not able to do its full function, and a lack of context that should only be possible if she''d spent her entire life, quite literally, under a rock. If her memories were gone, but then NIMPH failed to upload new data, that would explain it, but that didn''t seem to be the case. Her memory was still completely intact. Which made no sense still to Mihara, and trying to get answers out of 313N was like pulling teeth. Again, not wrongfully so, at this junction, but it didn''t make her self-appointed job any less complicated. It was simply feeding on itself. A lack of trust that could only possibly be reversed by throwing 313N into the deep end. Which wasn''t going to work as it would most likely result in 313N dying, or worse. And there were far worse fates than death when it came to Raptures. "Come on, you''re going to need sleep. Worrying about this all night isn''t going to do you any good," Yuni pulled on her arm, guiding her to a bed. Mihara stifled a yawn. Yuni did have a point. Staying up all night wasn''t going to put her any closer to a solution. Neither of them. There would be time in the morning to start at least trying to approach the issue. Ideally without firearms, or kicking, or threats of torture, or anything else. A nice, pleasant conversation over breakfast. That couldn''t hurt matters, anyway. They certainly couldn''t make things worse. Mihara sighed as Yuni curled up next to her. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I don''t know which was more impressive. The fact they managed to get whatever this was to look like scrambled eggs. Or the fact that whatever this was had no taste. Seriously, how did you accomplish giving this no taste? That is a memetically bad level of cooking right there. Part of me was tempted to ask for my meal to be replaced, but I was still caught between being hungry and not hungry. I nibbled and picked at my meal, a dozen other thoughts occupying my mind than the paradox of being hungry, but not desiring food. There were numerous things to keep my mind entertained. But, instead, I was focusing on one thing in particular. Not too long ago, a trio of girls came through. They didn''t seem too abnormal, though there was a tattoo on one''s shoulder that drew my attention. I wanted to see it again, just to be sure it was what I thought it was. Because if that was the case? Well, frankly, it wasn''t like it had any real power here in the real world, but anyone who picked that out unironically? Wasn''t a good person by any stretch of the imagination. The sound of footsteps made sure I had more reasons to keep my scowl squarely on my face. My "teammates", Yuni and Mihara. Aka, the sadistic child and someone I needed to find a phone for. Neither of them noticed, or more accurately, did not care that I was radiating ''do not get close to me'' energy. And at least the scientists seemed to have enough brain power among them to start respecting my physical space. Then again, I had no reason why I was expect people willing to torture someone gleefully would turn around and respect my basic wishes. That seemed like a pretty clear breach of well, everything at this point. Maybe if I kept my head down, I''d be overlooked. No such luck. I was already spotted, and they were already headed my way. I did notice that their pace seemed to increase as the same group as before came back down. They sat strangely as if to shield me from view, but I already had the information I needed. So there were people with Khorne tattoos running around. Then again, I''d been tortured, so maybe that wasn''t much of a surprise. The two let out a sigh of relief as the trio exited the room. "Are you trying to get her attention?" Mihara hissed as if I''d just crossed the devil himself. "Their attention. It''s not like any one of those three is worse than the other," Yuni scowled, poking gingerly at her plate of food. "Oh no, people who give themselves a tattoo of the Mark of Khorne aren''t pleasant, what a surprise," I rolled my eyes, returning to my meal, their presence giving me an excuse to eat this tasteless slop. They both paused, giving me a confused look. "Mark of Khorne?" Mihara paused. "The big tattoo on her shoulder. The brand of a fictional deity of blood, skulls, and mass slaughter," I continued to eat away at my food. "I get that Warhammer isn''t the biggest thing in the world, but it does have some pop culture presence." " Both continued to look at me as if I''d grown a second head. Well, more so than usual. "What year is it, exactly?" Mihara asked as I rolled my eyes. How committed could someone be to a bit? Seriously, I wasn''t fooled by this crap, and I don''t know why they were even trying to keep up the lie by this point. The greatest insult was the fact they seemed to think that if they repeated this whole bit enough times, I''d believe them. Maybe if I was still in elementary school, when my list of natural enemies was the neighbor down the street, my uncle, or Tiger, I might have believed this. But that was decades ago. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "The same year it was the last time you asked, 2023," I scowled, returning to my meal as the two whispered between themselves. Seriously though, the fact that they could get something this tasteless was legitimately impressive. This was gag levels of terrible cooking. How did you screw up cooking so badly that food doesn''t have any taste? x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "Alright, I don''t think she''s lying at this point," Yuni whispered to her as 313N continued to poke at her food with a faint expression of disgust. Mihara found herself struggling to say finally as a response. "She''s keeping this up for far too long, and that''s just not information someone can make up." Mihara agreed. If what 313N said was correct, then it went a long way in simply confirming many of the rumors surrounding Exotic. She was going to have to put a word in. The tale may have been a tall one, but there were ways to spin things. The worst that could happen is that the squad got more oversight. And with a group of former, well, if what 313N said was correct, reluctantly former, terrorists got more eyes on them, that was a problem dealt with before it could blow up in their faces. The question of how was concerning, but if 313N is telling the truth, then. It would explain a lot. 2023. That was before the Raptures even invaded by no small clip. Decades before the conflict ever started. She predated the Space Elevator. How did Syuen make a Nikke with memories of someone of a bygone era? Turning someone that old into a Nikke shouldn''t even be possible, never mind that they probably would have died years ago, even with the Ark''s medicine! "Part of me wants to know what Syuen did to create something like this," Mihara muttered under her breath. "It explains why she knows nothing, but at the same time, how?" How do you reason with someone who never even knew the war happened in the first place? That Humanity had lost and been driven underground? Were they cryogenically frozen somehow? And what exactly would the government do about someone like her? If 313N had memories of the time it was like before the Raptures came, even if it was a few decades before. Historians would love to pick her mind, and given she was a Nikke, the odds of that being literal were much, much too high. Mihara didn''t like that thought one bit, as it meant even the Ark wasn''t safe. As a Mass-produced model, 313N might still have a chance of flying under the radar, but that was going to require her to stop mouthing off to anyone with authority over her. As Yuni had stated, thus far, 313N had not shown such an ability. Mihara wasn''t sure if it was coming from 313N, somewhat justifiably, being angry at everyone and everything around her. Or that 313N was already displaying suicidal tendencies and just wanted someone to kill her. It wasn''t impossible. Most Nikke''s weren''t allowed to keep their memories of their human existence for a reason. Mind-Switch, increased suicide risk, and there were a whole host of issues that came with retaining one''s memories. Even if they weren''t manifesting right away, there was no certainty about later. But she was at least eating and was hungry enough for seconds. Or was she that determined to find an excuse to ignore their presence? Hopefully, it was a good sign. "It''s impressive how this stuff has no taste," 313N seemed to mutter to herself, picking at a new plate of food. Mihara felt herself freeze, another concern reared its head. Of course, with that problem, came opportunity. Of course, 313N wouldn''t know about Splendamin, either. That was something that didn''t exist back then. While the fact that 313N could taste some sort of difference was, piacular, and quite possibly, telling of the quality, Splendamin''s existing might be just enough proof to at least get her to start accepting things. But just how to approach the topic? "So, you''re one of those people who can tell Splendamin isn''t real food?" Yuni asked, fixing 313N with a glare. It was too late for Mihara to stop her now, but maybe a more confrontational approach might work? "Given how I don''t even know what Splendamin is?" 313N crossed her arms, returning Yuni''s glare with all the subtly of a Tyrant class Rapture that wanted you dead. It was almost impressive that despite everything, 313N was still willing to pick fights like this. "It''s just a jelly meant to be perfectly nutritious to humans, and artificially made to taste like food," Mihara hoped to defuse the situation, as 313N raised her eyebrow. She watched the expression of the mass-produced Nikke carefully, but the look on her face was telling. "Yeah, I''m not buying it," 313N scowled, an all too frequent expression on her face. "If you told me it was corpse starch, I might be willing to believe you." 313N''s eyes rolling said otherwise. Mihara resisted the urge to rest her face in her hands. Calling 313N stubborn would be an understatement. Understandable, oh so very understandable. After that, of course, 313N would rebuff any attempt to build bridges. They were trying to construct one on a smoldering field of rubble. "We''re trying to help, ass," Yuni crossed her arms with a huff, as Mihara watched as things were once again consumed by Artillery. "Your ''help'' was torturing me, hijacking my nerves on the regular, then throwing me into a simulation machine," 313N''s voice was harsh. "While lying out your ass the entire time. What makes you think your help is wanted or desired at this point?" Sadly, the only wrong thing was about them lying. Everything else? That was completely true. They were trying to build trust over a ruin. Such was always going to prove to be an uphill battle. Given how 313N acted, it may just be an impossible one. "We were just following orders," Yuni scowled back. "We don''t have a choice, just like you." Mihara knew that was the wrong thing to say. She opened her mouth, hoping to defuse the situation before it got worse, only to glance at 313N. If 313N was angry before, she was beyond even that now. She looked as if she was within an inch of leaping over the table to punch Yuni in the face, only prevented by Yuni''s powers. Which was only adding to her temper. Mihara could almost hear the cracking, as yesterday''s performance now looked like a gunshot next to a mortar. "Following? Orders?" 313N growled out, an almost feral sound exiting her throat. "Do you have any idea how many atrocities have been committed throughout human history by people just ''following orders''?" "No? You''re willing to commit to the act this long? No knowledge of the Holocaust, where a minority group was slaughtered to such an extent, that there are fewer around today than before? No knowledge of the Trail of Tears? Slavery? Any number of tragedies that could have been prevented by someone being willing to do the right thing, rather than doing what you were told?" 313N''s voice, and rage, seemed to taper off, falling back beneath the surface. But Mihara could still hear it sizzle, still present. It had receded, for now, but it hadn''t done so by much. 313N fell back into her seat, saying a single thing before she returned to her meal. "Pathetic." Mihara fixed Yuni with a glance. That could have gone so much better. Instead, they''d taken several steps back. Perhaps she would need to approach the issue on her own, instead of with her partner. Though, she doubted that would matter much in the long run. She wanted to help, but maybe giving 313N time to cool down would prove to be a far more effective cure. The problem was, that taking their eyes off her wasn''t exactly an option. Letting her run around freely was just asking for even more trouble. Even without Exotic running around. Sure, 313N didn''t seem to be all too inclined to trust them, but alliances of convenience rarely needed such things, especially when anger was involved. Mihara frowned, thinking about how best to resolve the issue. "Wardress squad, please report for mission briefing." A voice came over the intercom, jolting Mihara''s mind to the present. Mission briefing? The jolt of electricity became a chill. No. They were supposed to have more time. Chapter 5 "I do realize that this is a sudden change of plans, but the situation has undergone considerable change," Syuen''s voice was bratty as ever. "Chatterbox has been spotted, for the first time in a long time. We have no idea how long the target will remain in the area, thus, it is better to try and take the risk of attempting to capture it." Yuni and Mihara nodded, though the latter seemed somewhat reluctant to do so, as I scowled. Yeah, throw the civilian straight into the firing line of what you keep calling ''alien machines'', that would go well. "Any questions?" Syuen asked, likely just for protocol, but hell if I wasn''t going to take my chance, so I raised my hand. "Any questions that aren''t stupid." "Given that the target''s codename is Chatterbox, would I be correct in guessing that it is capable of some form of speech? And if so, do you have any intelligence on whether or not that speech is mimicry or understanding?" I scowled, narrowing my eyes. Frankly, I didn''t believe a single word of any of this. Seriously. They expect me to believe some alien version of Skynet comes down a space elevator, kicks humanity''s ass to the point where we have to flee underground to avoid being wiped out entirely, and then just sits there? Firstly, there was no way the Raptures wouldn''t know that the Ark existed, or its location. The construction efforts alone would have generated enough vibrations through the Earth''s crust that picking up on it through a seismograph and many other geologic devices would have picked up on it with ease. Never mind the who knows how many people were allegedly down here. The most believable part of that was humanity getting its ass handed to it by an advanced Alien civilization. Never mind the biggest problem with this lunacy. The fact that this advanced AI just, didn''t erase us from orbit? If someone or something had enough advanced technology to get to our planet, then they should have the technology to pound us into oblivion from space, while we could only do nothing but shake our fists at them in impotent rage. That they didn''t is telling. Largely that these people are liars who lie. Never mind we didn''t have a space elevator. Did I mention that they lied? That was the only reasonable explanation. There was no way an AI of all things would handle this situation in such a mind-numbing, counterintuitive way. They would have just blasted us to pieces, from orbit, and there wouldn''t have been a single damn thing we could have done to stop them. Simple as that. What did they have to gain from lying? I had no idea, and frankly, I didn''t care, nor desire, to find out. Probably gaslight people into signing away their basic human rights, or something equally stupid. "I don''t exactly see how that''s relevant," Syuen glared at me, clearly not happy with me. "If you don''t understand the difference between the target being akin to a parrot, mimicking words without any understanding of their real meaning," I glared back, as I watched Yuni and Mihara whisper among themselves. "And the target being able to understand what exactly words mean, then I don''t know what to tell you." I let the words hang in the air, waiting to see what Syuen''s reaction would be. The implications of what I said were lacking subtly, but they were also true. While I didn''t trust a single word she said, I wasn''t above playing along and seeing what happened when I started to poke logic into things. If this thing was simply copying things it heard, and it just managed to catch people talking, great. Somewhat problematic, but at the end of the day, not the worst thing in the world. But if it understood what things meant? Understood basic linguistics? That was a problem, one spelled with all caps. Well, if this wasn''t a lie, which the evidence as I could tell pointed it to be yes, it was a fairly large one. But provided this isn''t some form of mass delusion? Which was unlikely, but if I had to be fighting alien machines that came from beyond the stars, I at least wanted to know what exactly we were facing on this supposed black ops mission. Especially if one was intelligent enough to communicate. If it was smart enough to understand. Then it was smart enough to plan. And while I may not be a soldier of any strip, there were a few things I knew. First, underestimating your opponent was just asking for trouble. Two, engaging an enemy on their terms was never a good idea unless you had an overwhelming advantage. Three, any plan never lasted when in contact with the enemy. Frankly, I wouldn''t be surprised if this ended up just being a snipe hunt. They haven''t had any headway before now, after all. That much was clear. "To our knowledge, the target is only capable of mimicking things it hears," Syuen said, frowning as she did so. I kept quiet after that. That was as far as I was willing to push things at the moment. Still, most likely a snipe hunt, but after the same time, try and prepare something intelligent. "Otherwise, at the moment, the care package is not ready," Syuen''s glare told me everything I needed to know about what the care package was, so I did my best to avoid letting out that big of a sigh of relief. Still enough to be noticed though. Got to bite my tongue at her somehow. "But make no mistake. Mess this up, and you''ll be scrapped," I glared back at her, not particularly impressed by the threat. I let things hang in the air for a few moments. "Aren''t we wasting time?" I asked in the most innocent voice I could muster. Which wasn''t much, as my tongue was still laced with venom. But it proved my point well enough as Syuen scowled. "You have your orders." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I scowled, rubbing the pain in my neck as Yuni snickered. A dog tag equivalent, if I had to guess. Something that tells the "Ark" if I got completely plastered in combat. Getting me to one of the many elevators that were supposed to get used to the surface didn''t take long, replication of the sky was impressive, if only how far they went with the illusion. "You were saying something about how we''re technically operating under different mission parameters than what was said in the debriefing?" Mihara picked up the conversation that had been cut off from my yelp of surprise. "Clever, if Syuen dots her i''s and crosses her t''s," I frowned. "Though it might just be more effective to buy out one of those Commanders and have them fill out false mission reports." They both gave me a look. "You do realize that Commanders aren''t allowed to work with the same squad until several missions later, right?" Yuni''s words caused my eyebrows to twitch. Because why would I know that, first of all? Secondly, that was one of the most militarily incompetent things I''d heard in a hot minute. Sure, it got around corruption measures, but something told me a rule that stupid was not part of some anti-corruption effort. "Are you, okay?" Mihara was doing her level best to look somewhat concerned. "No! Because at first, I thought this was some sort of super illegal military black site. But it''s becoming increasingly clear that this is some sort of super illegal military black site run by a bunch of people with lead poisoning," I felt my fingers twitch as I did everything I could to suppress my anger at the ever-growing pile of lies and incompetence. "Intentionally separating Commanders from their soldiers is supposed to what? Help them realize that each soldier is a person who cannot be spent recklessly against the opposition because of dwindling resources and manpower? Never mind everything else that has gone on over the past few days?" My chest rose and fell quickly, as Mihara took a half-step back. "Actually because they view us as completely expendable and would throw us to a Rapture if it meant they get to live. Not that most Rookies do," Yuni said, as I heard a faint shattering sound in the back of my mind, most likely the last bit of self-restraint I had. "And that''s when they don''t try to get us killed through incompetent orders or just wanting us to die!" "Yuni!" Mihara nearly shouted as the younger girl looked sheepish. "What? She''s going to have to know at some point," Yuni, despite her expression, shrugged. "Are you kidding me!" x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x 313N did not seem to be taking their trip across the surface, well. She had been practically ranting against the Ark''s military incompetence, thus proving Yuni''s point, up until they entered the aircraft. Once she saw the surface, 313N just stopped. Now she just sat, silently. Despondent, with only the clenching of her fists being the only sign of movement. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Silence filled the air. But more so than silence, was pressure. It was just like at breakfast, but even more so. Anger didn''t just radiate off of 313N''s body. It surged, like a rolling, crashing wave of water, barely constrained. And that saying anything, anything at all, would cause it to flood outwards, overcoming anything in her path. It sounded strange, for someone like her to almost be scared of a Mass Produced model, but 313N was starting to make her worried. As if saying a single thing would simply cause her to snap. Whether or not it was simply Elen having an emotional or mental breakdown or a full-on mind switch. Neither was good. Especially in the field when they were hunting Chatterbox, of all things. For once, she hoped that Chatterbox had long since vacated the area. If simply for the sake of not having to deal with 313N breaking before, during, or after the battle. Chatterbox could take advantage of any situation that developed. 313N was right in one respect. While Raptures generally were to all rights largely mindless, relying on sheer weight of numbers, or in the case of Tyrant class Raptures, power, to kill their opponents, Chatterbox was, odd. They hadn''t found it yet, despite all the effort they put into tracking and searching for the beast. As if it was trying to avoid them. Or it simply didn''t care about their presence. Frankly, she wasn''t sure which was likely, but 313N raised a good point in being suspicious of how intelligent Chatterbox was. Yes, it broke with convention, that Raptures were largely unintelligent. Nor was it a topic many wanted to consider, given the questions it would raise. But Mihara could see where 313N was coming from. She still didn''t believe a word Syuen was saying, but at the same time, 313N was trying to gather information. And her outsider status made her willing to question what most people assumed as fact. There was promise in that, if risky. 313N was going to have to learn some measure of restraint in the future. Continuing to prod Syuen was not the smartest choice at the moment. But for now, making sure she lived through the mission was the priority. Everything else could be addressed later. There was a bit of a jolt as the craft came to the ground, breaking Mihara out of her thoughts, as 313N continued to sit there, twitching and stewing. The door began to open, and then 313N was gone. It was but a moment later when an almost inhuman scream came from outside, followed by the sound of several large explosions. Mihara bolted upright, heading towards the door. Please don''t let her be killed in three seconds! She paused, looking at the scene before her. "Holy shit," Yuni said, standing beside her. Wordlessly, Mihara nodded. 313N was alive, and whatever injuries she was sustaining were largely self-inflicted. 313N was laying waste to everything, screaming with rage as she started breaking everything around her that she could get her hands on. The few brief glimpses of her face Mihara could see behind 313N''s visor showed tears pouring down her face as she reduced the ruins of human civilization to powder with her bare hands. "Is this mind switch?" Yuni looked up at her, nervousness clear on her face, as Mihara heard the pilot whimper. Part of Mihara wanted to say yes. That yes it was, and the mission was already a failure. But 313N wasn''t attacking them. She hadn''t even pulled out her rifle, turning it against them, or even herself. 313N was lashing out, yes, that was undeniable. But she was taking out her anger on the rubble before them, rather than targeting anyone or anything else. She was hurting things, and herself, but nobody else. Mind-Switch was a possibility still, but at the same time, she likely would have already started attacking them if it was. This was something else. 313N didn''t believe a single word they''d said to her. Mihara frozen. 313N didn''t believe what they were telling her. She never did. Even her question to Syuen during the briefing was some form of self-assurance. That she was being fed nothing but lies from the start, something 313N was adamant about. She called the Ark an illegal military black site. Sure, Mihara had no idea what a black site was, but it was yet another sign that 313N thought they were lying about her situation. That they were lying about Raptures. That they were lying about humanity being wiped clean from the Earth''s surface. And now, the truth came screaming into what little walls of comfort 313N had built up around herself like a runaway freight train. Whether 313N believed what she had told herself simply out of lack of a welcoming alternative, or she reasoned her way into such a position, mattered very little. Reality had made itself known, and it was not being gentle. Sadly, they didn''t have much of a choice. This was something that would happen. 313N was never going to believe them. She had to see things for herself. And the longer they put this off, the more painful this would be for her when they ripped off the bandage. With her reaction being like this just from merely a day, maybe not even that, then. Then tearing it off now was the better option. Because waiting would likely make things worse. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x Stupid. Moron. Dumbass. Fucking idiot. Cope huffing fool. Thoughts swirled around in my head, blocking out everything around me, as they kept spiraling down, down, down, as if draining into a bottomless pit. What the hell had happened? What had I missed? What year even was this? What had happened to my family? Was this even my Earth in the first place? How was I so stupid? The answer was staring me in the face, and I couldn''t take the damn answer. No, I had to invent bullshit. To be a paranoid lunatic. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst? Hypocritical nonsense. I didn''t even take the slightest amount of time to consider what would be the worst-case scenario. Why the hell would I? It was obvious that the lies were too stupid to even consider for a moment that they might be the truth. After all. Fiction is what had to make sense. Reality? Reality was under no such obligation. It didn''t have to, or frankly, never did, make sense. What had reality taken from me? My family? My friends? My work? It had taken that, and so much more. My basic human rights? Gone. My ability to consent? Tossed in the fucking trash. My humanity? Not even considered relevant. My body? Turned into some type of machine that only seemed to mimic the human form. My name? Replaced by a fucking serial number! Everything was taken from me. One way or another, reality managed to steal everything I had and replaced it with a plate of raw, unrefined, shit. Cave Johnson was a lunatic, but it was hard to make lemonade out of pure feces. Shit bombs, on the other hand, were much more manageable. Or, well, destroying things around you in an attempt to exhaust yourself into consciousness. But I couldn''t. No matter how much I swung my fists, no matter how much I destroyed, I wasn''t tired out. Mentally, maybe, but I had energy to burn. Because my body wasn''t human anymore. I wasn''t going to get physically exhausted. Wasn''t I? One final scream of rage, and for the first time, I felt concrete disintegrate beneath my fists. I looked at my hands. They were bleeding, though it wasn''t blood anymore, but I could still feel them, largely undamaged despite my fit of rage that had begun to flicker out. My knees hit the ground, my vision blurring with tears. I screamed into the ground, my voice going from a shout of defiance to a whaling sob. Why had this happened to me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve to be shunted into an animatronic body! My vision began to blur, not just from the tears that streamed down my face. I could almost see it in my head, darkness surrounding my mind, my swirling thoughts leading to a bottomless pit. Something was in that pit, almost reaching out. What would it cost me, if I simply just let it? Do whatever it wanted to do to me? Would the pain go away? Would everything just, fade away, to slip away completely from my mind forever? I''d already lost so much. It reached out, almost like a fog. After all, I''d lost almost everything. Almost. Everything. I bit down. Hard. It recoiled as if shocked, as the inky blackness began to retreat. It lingered for a moment, as my eyes narrowed. I''d nearly lost everything. I refuse to lose anything else. These were mine! My pain! My humanity! And I wasn''t going to let anyone take them from me! Chapter 6 I let my breath rattle through whatever it was that passed for my lungs now, pushing myself onto my feet. I lifted my helmet so I could dry off my tears, which was, not great, as it wasn''t like I had Kleenex''s inside this armor, but I managed to clear off my face enough that I could at least see now. Placing the helmet back on my head, as I wasn''t going to wander around without headgear in a warzone. Because that''s what this was. A post apcylptic warzone. Against the forces of space Skynet, brought to us by some alien cockup. Whatever it was that made them, and whatever it was that shunted me off into this little hellhole. I wanted nothing more than to shove my rifle up their ass and pull the trigger. But that wasn''t going to happen anytime soon. If ever. I scowled, looking around at the damage I had done to the area around me. It looked like I''d torn everything around me to shreds. Which was impressive, given how I barely felt any pain in my arms or hands. I briefly shock them, trying to clear them off as much, coolant? There was a flash in my head as I winced. You know what? Blood. It was meant to be blood, it looked like blood, it probably tasted like blood, it was blood, and I would call it such. "Are you okay?" I heard Mihara ask, still over by the transport. "No," I said simply, glaring at her. "But the sooner we get this done, the sooner I get to see if this body can get drunk. Lead the way." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I don''t think Mihara had exactly expected that response. But we did manage to get underway, moving through the ruins of what had once been a city. There was a bit of greenery, some trees breaking through the concrete, grass growing, and mold inching its way over any surface moist enough to host it. But no Raptures. At least, no Raptures, yet. Between my rage-induced fit and aircraft, something should have seen and heard us by now. So by now, the place should be crawling with the bastards. And it wasn''t. I kept my eyes on a pivot, trying to spot anything that could be hiding away in some corner, readying an ambush. In a city, there were plenty of places to hide, a myriad of locations, and angles to make a first strike from. City fighting was its own form of hell, from my understanding of historical warfare, and I imagined things hadn''t changed one bit. If I had it my way, we''d be the ones creeping through the buildings, rather than be out in the open. Sadly, we needed to get to the area Chatterbox was spotted in before the trail went cold, and time was not on our side. The fact it was avoiding encounters was, suspicious, to say the least. Possibly a blessing, and maybe I was still jumping at anything that looked like a shadow. But every reaction that put off disaster always tended to feel like an overreaction. And I had no intention of correcting that, either. But the silence was, unnerving. The fact there was nothing, no birds, nor insects, or anything else. Nothing made a sound. That just wasn''t right. Even in ruins, there should be animals scurrying about. Rats and other rodents should be in every nook and cranny, watching us from the shadows. The cockroach, something that could inherit the earth, even if we nuked ourselves off the planet, should be anywhere and everywhere. And yet, nothing. Which meant one of two things. Either Raptures were doing far more than just brutally kill off anything human or human-like they came across. Or a lot of animals were hiding right now. Both were bad, but one was immediately worse than the other. And I honestly had no idea how much animal or plant life was even considered normal on the surface at this point. I was guessing not much, but there were more than a few species on this planet that should be more than plenty resilient to the end of the world. And if they were hiding, they were hiding for good reason. Meaning something nearby was scaring them away from this area. Chatterbox was high on the list of suspects. But it could just be Raptures in general. Crap, I was already spirally. I pulled my head up, trying to shake my thoughts free. I was lucky I did so because otherwise, I would have completely missed it. I raised my rifle, staring down the scope into what was already empty air. Did I miss it? Or was it some sort of visual hallucination, or hell, error? Scanning the area wasn''t all that useful, either. Whatever it was, it wasn''t a Rapture. At least, I was fairly certain that it wasn''t. I couldn''t see much beyond a brief scrape of white, but the shape looked vaguely human-like. "Did you see something?" Mihara followed the barrel of my rifle into the distance as I lowered it. "Key word being something," I scowled. "I don''t think it''s a Rapture, whatever it was. I was lucky to even spot it in the first place." "What else could it be, though?" The way Yuni handled that rocket launcher did not give me a pleasant feeling. "As far as I know, I don''t think Raptures have a lot of white coloring or are particularly human-shaped," I said. They shared a glance, an expression on their faces I couldn''t quite read. "I mean, if they are, please, by all means, let me know." "It might be a Pilgrim," Mihara said simply as if that explained everything. She seemed to notice my glare. "It would take too long to explain, but it might be a sign that we''re on the right track." She didn''t elaborate on how, or why, one of these Pilgrims would be a sign that we were at least somewhere near our quarry. "First time on the surface and you might have seen a Pilgrim. Lucky," Yuni pouted, like a child. I felt my eyebrow twitch. "Good to know that the universe is trying to compensate me for my suffering." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "That''s its tracks?" I looked down at the prints in the ground, suppressing a shutter. No Raptures still, before we stumbled across a particularly eroded bit of concrete, which left an imprint of something big. It looked like someone''s fist, scaled up about ten times over. With a name like Chatterbox, I expected something that looked like a bird. Sure, a fairly big, robot bird, but not this. "Yeah. You scared or something?" Yuni seemed to taunt. "I''m a civilian being brought out to hunt what looks increasingly like a heavily armored, mechanical gorilla. What do you think?" I shot back, resisting the urge to smack her upside the head. "It''s heading that direction," Mihara pointed, gesturing down the road. "Isn''t that the opposite direction than it was originally spotted in?" Yuni frowned, as Mihara nodded her head. I raised the scope of my gun to my face, looking down range to see if I spotted anything. No such luck. "Then it doubled back for some reason or another," I frowned. I had no idea why. Worst case scenario? It knew we were coming, as it was laying an ambush. The best-case scenario was that it was doing whatever controlled the Raptures was telling it to do. "It was heading up north. If it continued, it would have gotten to the snowfields very quickly," Mihara seemed, concerned by this development. Yuni nodded her head as well. "I''m going to say it now. It''s probably trying to sucker us into an ambush," I said bluntly, trying my best to peek at the rooftops. But I didn''t have a good angle from the ground, and I doubt the internal structure was stable. They both looked at me. "Raptures aren''t supposed to be that smart," Yuni responded firmly, though she sounded as if she was talking to a child. "And how many times have you fought it, exactly?" I responded, glaring down at her. "It''s been avoiding a confrontation, and it may continue to do so, but the fact it hasn''t Zerg rushed you two at any point in the past means it''s one of the brighter bulbs." The two stared at me, letting me know part of what I said had fallen out of cultural relevance. Which really shouldn''t be a surprise. "The fact you haven''t fought it yet means it''s smarter than most Raptures," I corrected. Yuni did not exactly seem pleased, though she wasn''t saying anything, as the expression on Mihara''s face became unreadable. Hopefully, she was considering the point. She looked as if she was about to say something, only for a sound to come from further down the road. I raised my gun again, scowling as I zoomed in. Contacts. About a baker''s dozen. "Raptures, incoming. I don''t know if they''ve noticed us, but they''re heading our way," I scowled, immediately looking for anything I could use as cover. If there was anything I''d already gleaned that time in the simulation, it was that staying out in the open was a stupid, stupid idea. Trading shots with the enemy never went well. Mihara gestured, and only took a second to figure out what she meant. Yuni in the middle, behind some rubble, with the two of us out on the wings, taking cover behind the corners of ruined buildings. My breath rattled in my chest, and my heart felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute. I poked my head around the corner, bringing up my scope. Breathe in, breathe out. It was easier, as they weren''t shooting, at least, they weren''t shooting, yet. As well as one of the things I learned about the visor. This was probably common knowledge, but I felt clever for managing to figure it out. It told me exactly how the bullet was going to fly. Sure, this could probably be considered cheating, but frankly, I couldn''t be bothered to care less. If the universe wanted to kick me while I was down? Then I''d scrounge up every advantage I had and pay it back with interest. BOOM! I''d never been much of a gun person. Sure I knew how to shoot one, how to treat a deadly weapon with the proper respect it deserves, the basics of trigger discipline. But the amount of hands-on experience I had was limited. And my time in the simulation was more, a panicked attempt at survival than anything planned out. But my body was sturdy, even as the rifle kicked into my shoulder. The bullet flew straight and true into my target, the Rapture at the front of the formation, one that was scuttling around, almost like a demented mechanical spider. The shot wasn''t perfect, as I aimed for the center of mass, but its movements made the bullet impact the monster instead between the joint between its leg and the main body. It let out some alien screech, coming to a complete stop as I fired off another round. The second shot still wasn''t exactly accurate from its trashing, but this time, the round managed to find something that seemed a bit more important, causing it to start firing its weapons, even as its friends continued to advance. The fact that it took a third bullet, and based on my visor, half my magazine, was not a promising start. By the time I was selecting my next target, a walking, thing with a disk for a head, shots were already being made on my position. Erratic enough for me to crack out the rest of my clip without too much issue, putting two shots into the disk walker, as its head, or what passed for such, made for an easy target. My third was aimed into the swarm, hoping I''d catch something important with the round. I was midway through reloading by the time Yuni and Mihara began to open fire, rockets, and rounds flying into various targets. Frankly, the rocket launcher was probably going to do most of the heavy lifting, given how tightly knit the group was. The engagement was short and sweet. I''d managed to unload one more clip before every Rapture was dead. Destroyed. Whatever it was you wanted to call them. Yuni''s rockets had done a number on them, leaving piles of rapture parts in their place. I''d managed to drop two by myself and picked up a third, but that was practically kill stealing. Scanning the streets for survivors, or even a second wave proved fruitless. If there were more coming, they would announce themselves later, rather than right now. "That''s a sign we''re heading in the right direction, at least," Mihara said, pulling herself fully out of cover, as I ultimately did the same. By all rights, my own, mediocre at best performance aside, that went well. Hardly any ammunition was used up, and as far as I could tell, none of us had taken any injuries. An efficient engagement, if nothing else. But that was a small group. And I highly doubt the sound of gunfire and explosions did anything to mask our presence. If they weren''t aware of our existence before, they were now. They would come in greater numbers. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x The trail still hadn''t gone cold. Which was good for them, but at the same time, Mihara expected far more resistance than they were getting. Was used to more resistance. Normally, there were more Raptures about than this. They were decently close to the Ark, so that could have been a reason for why the population was so sparse. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Of course, that wasn''t her only concern. 313N was, well, at least it seemed as if her personality was intact. If she went through Mind-Switch in the first place. But she still seemed, more stable than she had been before. Maybe stable wasn''t the right word. Focused? Subdued? Her attitude had gone from one to panic, to, let''s get this over with. She was still trading barbs with Yuni, so things hadn''t changed much on that front. And the underlying current of anger and bitterness was still there, just, better hidden? No that wasn''t it. Channeled more productively? The girl was increasingly an enigma. Sure, 313N seemed to be handling herself well, for now. Her accuracy wasn''t great, but she was showing a marked improvement compared to her time in the simulation. That wasn''t saying much, given how most of that was spent in a panic, with her only firing her rifle a few times. Then there was her pivoting. Yes, the idea of looking out for enemies was sound, and Mihara appreciated that lesson already being in 313N''s skull, but she was a bit too nervous about it. 313N was looking, but not observing, the world around her. But she was new to this and didn''t have NIMPH programming to help her along. Even more concerning was that it had become even more erratic, with 313N wearing a face that displayed discomfort. Mihara knew what she had to ask, even if she already knew the answer. 313N was not okay. Ideally, Mihara could keep her away from any bars, as well. 313N being drunk was not going to be good for anyone involved. But she was going to ask anyway. "Are you okay?" She turned around looking as a scowl appeared on 313N''s face. "So I''m the only one hearing that?" That, was not the answer Mihara was expecting. "Hearing what?" Yuni gave 313N a look, one that 313N returned with all the vigor she could muster. "That buzzing sound? I''ve been hearing it for a bit, and it''s getting annoying," 313N tapped the side of her helmet lightly with the palm of her hand as if that would solve the issue. It was probably nothing, some audio error caused by debris from 313N''s mental breakdown. Or maybe just from the mental breakdown itself. But it also could be a sign of a greater issue. "It''s kind of directional, too." 313N turned her head from side to side, before pointing. In the same direction of Chatterbox''s tracks. "Yuni, please run a diagnostic," Mihara said, frowning. That was odd, and something she certainly didn''t want to hear. It was most likely nothing, but she wasn''t going to take any risks to the contrary. 313N clearly didn''t like it, her expression making it obvious that the idea of Yuni being anywhere near her personal space was not wanted, but didn''t raise any protests either. "I''m not finding anything," Yuni''s response came, as Mihara shook her head. Of course, it wouldn''t have an easy field fix. "Let me know if anything changes," she said. Hopefully, it was nothing. But it was best that they treated it as something. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x We continued our march. The trail was laid out before us, the footprints becoming more and more distinct. The buzzing in my ear remained though. A constant irritant, and by this point, I was starting to get pissed by its existence. Of course, I didn''t like Yuni being close enough to touch me, but I wanted the blasted noise gone even more. Sadly, I got the worst of both worlds with that one. By now, we managed to reach what looked like a square, a large opening between the buildings. There was just one problem. Well, two. First, this just screamed trap, to high heaven. There was no other word for it. The second? The buzzing in my ear had been leading us right along the trail. And now? It was not. "Hold up," I said, scanning the nearby buildings. Mihara and Yuni stopped. "The direction of the noise shifted." That got their attention. "Where?" Mihara asked, a frown creasing her features. "Over that way," I pointed into a group of buildings, glaring at them intently. "Given the open area, I think this is a trap." Sure, I was jumping to several conclusions with that. But the fact that the noise had been exactly along Chatterbox''s trail, right up until now? Sure, it could just be happenstance. But gambling on it being dumb luck? Not a chance. I expected Yuni to protest, claiming that Raptures were simply stupid, only for her to point up and shout, raising her rocket launcher. Following her gaze, I saw it, leaping down toward us. Like someone had seen a gorilla, and decided to make it made entirely of metal, adding a bladed tail, and decided it would be better off without its face. An absolute nightmare abomination that was probably going to have me waking up screaming tonight. Provided I wasn''t dead, and all that. I brought my rifle up, and let my power activate. The world slowed down around me as I fired all six rounds from my gun, before using what time I had left to open the distance as I watched Mihara and Yuni do the same in slow motion. I reloaded as I moved, a surprisingly simple process, given the clip, allowing me to fire off another magazine of bullets. Time resumed its normal flow, and Chatterbox was caught in a crossfire as it came down. The first six rounds rose up to meet it, managing to catch it in several places along its underside. Each bullet bit deep, and I didn''t see them come out the other side. The second burst came in at an angle. More than half went wide, as I miscalculated how fast the giant Rapture was falling, but I spotted one puncture into the side of its head. Explosions and bullets rained down on it from the other side peppering Chatterbox with fire. However, the second salvo wasn''t the only error I made. I went right, while Yuni and Mihara went left, putting Chatterbox between us. Great for pinning the thing in, bad when it meant it could just kill one of us to escape. Still, I kept firing, bullets raining along its back as it turned to face Yuni and Mihara. Where, those, missile pods? Did this thing have a way to shoot missiles out of its back? Oh, god, I was so screwed. Just as it appeared to be about to raise its fist, its body froze in place. Holy shit. Yuni''s power actually worked on that thing? That was both impressive and terrifying. Then the gunfire ceased as well. That could only mean one thing. Mihara was using hers as well. I stopped shooting, for all the good putting bullets into Chatterbox''s armored backside was doing me. Only for the now traumatic sound of a handgun to begin going off. I began to try and squeeze around the monster, seeking to regroup and possibly have a softer target if it did shake off either ability. As I did so, I saw Chatterbox''s arm twitch. Before I could shout out a warning, Chatterbox used its arm to grab the other and pull, tearing the limb clean off. Mihara let out a scream of pain, before slumping to the ground, unconscious. I barely had time to react, Chatterbox moving quicker than something its size should even be capable of, as it swung its torn-off arm at me. I barely had time to process that massive metal club heading towards me, much less that Chatterbox had already grown a new arm to replace its old one. Time slowed, but it wasn''t enough. I could avoid the worst of it. But even a glancing blow was pain. I felt part of my chest simply concave as I was sent flying straight through at least one wall, probably more as alarms almost blared in my mind. The pain from the blow alone was nearly enough to render me unconscious, and the only reason I remained awake was a second searing flare of pain as part of my body was impaled. Right about where my right lung should have been. I tried to push myself off it, but the strange piece of white metal was heavily deformed, catching in painful ways as faint explosions rang out in the distance. Grinding my teeth through the pain, I struggled to think of a solution. Yuni was still fighting, but Chatterbox had dealt with Mihara in a matter of seconds, and there was no way Yuni was enough to win on her own. We were outmatched, completely and utterly. Retreat was our only option to make it out alive. Syuen''s demands be damned. Syuen herself be damned. The fact I couldn''t pull myself off this piece of metal be damned! More explosions continued to ring in my ears, overriding the buzzing sound. Screw this. I could shatter concrete with my fists. If I could do that, then crushing whatever this metal was embedded in should be easy. I pushed backward, straining my feet until I felt the surface my back was against gave way. It still hurt. The white metal was still poking out of my chest like someone had stabbed me with a spear. But I moved forward anyway, pushing myself forward, even over the remains of my now destroyed gun. I don''t know how long it took, but I pulled myself out of the hole in the wall, only to be met by Chatterbox itself, its face glared at me, a hate that could only exist in something that was aware existed in its soulless eyes. I didn''t dare take my eyes off it for more than a second. Mihara was still unconscious. Yuni was cut in half at the waist, but her body was still crawling toward Mihara. They were alive. For now. "Obey." A single word came out of Chatterbox''s mouth, and I felt a chill go down my spine. I don''t know why it was trying to give me an order. But frankly? I wasn''t taking orders from a brat like Syuen. And I certainly wasn''t going to take orders from some genocidal, alien machine freak. "Fuck. Off." I snarled back, despite my pain. I had a plan. It was a good plan. Grab Yuni and Mihara, if simply to make it so Syuen was less likely to kill me, and then run like hell. I just needed to get Chatterbox angry enough to charge and OH SHIT! I got out of the way just in time as Chatterbox surged forward, burying himself into the ruined building, and sending a portion of it crumbling around him. Hopefully, that would be enough to pin the bastard down. Long enough for us to make a clean getaway. Up ran over to the couple, shoved Yuni under my arms, grabbed Mihara around her waist, and started running. "What do you think you''re doing!" Yuni shouted as reality slipped back to normal after a few seconds of confusion. "It''s called retreating, you ungrateful shit!" I snapped, even if I shouldn''t. Yuni seemed like she was about to shout back before an enraged roar came from behind us. "Retreat faster! Retreat faster!" She didn''t need to tell me twice! x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x Everything felt like it was on fire. I was hiding behind rubble, barely able to keep ahead of the thing, even with me running myself ragged. I was hoping the lead, and the cover, would lead to it passing us by, but Chatterbox was smarter than that, taking an effort to sniff us out. I felt my heart, or whatever my heart was supposed to be these days, jump into my throat as its fist came down right on top of the pile of rubble we were hiding behind. Its face began to turn down towards us, only for Chatterbox to suddenly look up, and try to move. But it was too late. A beam of light tore its arm clear off, Chatterbox letting out a scream of pain. I thought it would just regrow its arm again, despite the impressive display of firepower. But for some reason, it didn''t. Or couldn''t? My eyes flicked up at the source of the shot. A tall woman stood on one of the buildings, wearing a white cloak, almost like that of snow, that bellowed in the breeze. Frankly, I had no idea who our savior was. I''d seen her earlier. That much I was certain of. Was she hunting Chatterbox as well? Well, capable of hunting Chatterbox, at any rate, as the creature was already turning tail. I pushed myself off of my feet, as the woman spared us nothing but a glance, before continuing off after her quarry. All the more power to her, if she could make that monster run off like that. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "Get. Us. Back to the Ark. Now!" I ground out, as the pilot stared at us with an expression of pure shock on their face. Not that I blamed them. Yuni has gone from the waist down, I was carrying Mihara like a sack of potatoes, while I had gained several pounds from being impaled by who knows what. Thankfully, they did what they were told, as I slumped down the floor. Everything hurt, and it felt like my chest was on fire. Wait, wasn''t my body mechanical now? Then this thing impaled me in the chest. Did it, sever some coolant system or something? I groaned through pain. It probably had, hadn''t it. Chapter 7 Syuen grit her teeth. Her board meeting was just about to finish up, when news about Wardress had arrived. What she had hoped would be a grand triumph was instead a disaster. Mihara and Yuni''s combat reports sat on her desk, but she didn''t want to look at them. She already knew the contents, as did the board. 313N. Again with 313N. Not only did the mass-produced model have the audacity not to die, but now the board was convinced that it had value. And after numerous scientists, including Ether, were grilled on how 313N was somehow able to detect Chatterbox on an audio level, and how could such thing be replicated, if possible. The answers we have no idea, and we don''t know where to even start trying, combined with the supposed risk of losing the trait forever one way or another? This meant the board felt that 313N had irreplaceable value if one could consider bait to be of such importance. Sure, she tried to argue. Correlation was not causation, and just because Wardress''s first time encountering Chatterbox included 313N''s presence, doesn''t mean that it was the critical factor. However, when asked if 313N had anything to do with it, some scientists floated the idea that 313N''s ability to sense Chatterbox would be enough to consider 313N a threat to be either captured, corrupted, or eliminated. They also asked if corruption might be the reason why 313N was able to detect Chatterbox. But given how the Ark''s anti-corruption measures didn''t notice anything, and that 313N wasn''t dead, those scientists answered no. This was true, as there would have been no opportunity for 313N to be corrupted in the first place. If it was corrupted, then the excuse would make itself, but even the insinuation could raise a considerable number of issues. Sure, the scientists feared her, but the board and investors were just as feared, if not more so. They weren''t going to lie for her, especially in such a situation like that. The capture of Chatterbox was risky, but worth the investment. If this gave the investors a bigger chance of getting that payday from the technological advancements they would be able to make? Then they would keep something that otherwise had no value around. Syuen would love nothing more than to tell the scientists to damn the risks and just cut it open. It wasn''t like it was currently unconscious, as they extracted an unknown metal object that had ripped through several coolant and lubricator pump lines. Syuen''s eyes flipped over the damage report, turning away with a huff. 313N came within moments of overheating its core. Couldn''t even die right. At least it brought back the metal with it. That was at least worth something, even if the scientists still hadn''t figured out what it was as they tried to dislodge it. There were two prevalent theories about the stuff. Either that it was some form of old Rapture weapon. Or an old Nikke one. Either was good. Rapture technology, even older stuff, was useful if handled properly. But if it was an old Nikke weapon, then that was promising. While Missilis produced some of the most technologically advanced Nikke''s in the world, even she knew that compared to the oldest Nikke''s, even their current best was barely scratching the surface. That find was worth more than 313N itself, depending on how much use it could be. Perhaps even more of the weapon or object remained. Something to investigate when she had the free mass-produced units and a Commander willing to undergo a salvage operation came up. In the meantime, Wardress was out of action while they repaired Yuni. While 313N was to be assigned to the group until further orders were to be given. Meaning if she wanted Wardress back in action as soon as possible, 313N was going to need a full-body replacement. No matter how much she hated the idea. Even without the damage to its systems from being impaled, 313N''s reactor was lucky to have not shattered completely from Chatterbox''s blow. Much less enter a meltdown with its coolant system compromised. Even now, 313N''s left leg had nearly fallen apart. Not from battle damage, but rather accelerated wear and tear that was beyond what the scientists had initially calculated. Though, keeping Wardress out of the field for the moment would prove, advantageous. Chatterbox was an issue, and capturing it was still a priority. But the combat reports and they state they were all in made the simple fact impossible to deny. Wardress by itself would not be sufficient to capture Chatterbox. It pained her to admit it, but they simply wouldn''t be enough. Chatterbox had proven to be both stronger, and smarter than she or anyone else had considered possible. Wardress was lucky. A Pilgram was in the area and saved them. One that was also hunting Chatterbox. Likely to kill it, if it hadn''t already succeeded. They might not have that luck again if Chatterbox still lived. 313N would be bait. That was all it could be. But Wardress would not be a sufficient trap. No, she needed something that could match a Pilgrim in terms of strength. That limited her available assets considerably. If she factored in the need for secrecy, then Syuen had nothing left. The closest thing she had to a Pilgram in terms of strength was Matis. She could get away with deploying Wardress as she pleased if Syuen took the right steps. But deploying Misillis''s most public squad alongside her black ops unit? Matis alone would bring eyes, but when it came to capturing a Rapture, much less one of Chatterbox''s caliber, attention was the last thing she needed. The Central Government overlooked many of the things she did. As CEO, she was much too important to the safety of humanity. And while she could probably get away with it, there was a risk that some might consider it a bridge too far. But it might be worth noting how Chatterbox would respond to such a provocation, as well as if Matis was something it would consider a threat, at least alongside Wardress. The Squad was able to defeat a Heretic with the support from Absolute, after all. If it was reluctant to engage a Pilgrim, then it should be unwilling to engage Matis, in theory. If 313N being to detect it was the threat the board thought it was, it might try to take the bait anyway, and if it didn''t? Nothing was too lost. But the repairs were problematic. Mihara was largely fine. Yuni would need a significant part of her body replaced, and giving her a new one would be cheaper. Not by much, but enough. The problem was 313N. Repair was considerably more expensive than replacing, especially even now as they were updating to a frame for the 08 that could withstand their abilities. The problem was, that despite their best efforts, they were only copying 313N''s ability. It was inferior in both terms of effectiveness. And stress on the Nikke''s body. The upgrade would help, but it was still a patch job. Syuen hated it, but the numbers did not lie. Even if this mission was considered an anomaly, the damage from general wear and tear of its abilities would mean it would need replacement every few missions, even with the upgraded 08 body. It would be cheaper to give her a unique body that could actually handle the stress and strain of its abilities. And such infuriated Syuen. This mass-produced model was, getting rewarded with a unique body? After all the problems it caused? Thankfully, it wasn''t to be right away. After all, it was still unknown whether 313N could undergo such an upgrade, due to its unique traits. After all, it hadn''t held onto its identity, rather, a new one had appeared completely. Moving it into a unique body could have unforeseen consequences, after all, given its abnormal state. That was the one thing the scientists had agreed on with her. But that wasn''t the only way 313N was causing issues. Normally, she would have dismissed such claims. Exotic was a problem, but the bomb collars rendered them an easily solvable one. There was no need to go digging for more information as to why they might become an issue. Them being problematic was a known factor, and had been accounted for. The idea that 313N''s memory came from a time before Raptures came was laughable, no matter how much it explained the abnormal behavior. She partially sent it off to Exia as a joke. Syuen needed the laugh after the day she''d been having. After all, the idea that Crow had a tattoo that referenced a religious symbol from some fictional war game was well and truly laughable. The response Syuen got wasn''t. At least, that is what she could glean from the information Exia had sent her. Which wasn''t much. Something that trivial was unlikely to make it through the Rapture invasion and certainly wasn''t important enough to be saved in the Ark''s database. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. So Syuen had thought. It was something else she was ignoring for the time being. Take time to deal with other issues, unrelated to the Mass Produced model that refused to learn her place. That was why Syuen felt her eyelid twitch as the phone began to ring. Emergency connection, directly to the lab. She was almost tempted to let it ring. Reluctantly, however, she picked up the phone. "This better be important," she ground out, hoping to make her displeasure known to whoever it was that contacted her. "We were forced to remove 313N''s head from the rest of its body. Someone managed to cause the object in 313N''s chest cavity to activate, where it attempted to fuse with the main nerve system," the scientist said, as a few loud sounds rattled in the background. Syuen scowled, though that did answer the question of what exactly the strange stuff was. "Then we''ll have to upgrade 313N''s frame to a new body," Syuen made a face. That meant paperwork, even if she was going to have to fill it out anyway. "Get the old body into quarantine and under observation. I want to know as much about the metal, its sources, and the effects it can have as soon as such tests can be carried out." At least they had a free test body they could work on. Some silver lining to this whole mess. "Detaching 313N''s head, however, brought the subject back online as well," he continued. "We''re trying to get it to deactivate before Mind-Switch sets in, but we have not met much in the way of success." Syuen felt the pen in her hand twist as she clenched her fist. Could this mass-produced model do anything right? x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I tried my best to keep my eyes closed. I really, really did. Something, anything, to keep my mind off the fact that I was, at this moment. A disembodied head. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. How am I breathing without lungs! Yeah, fuck it, this wasn''t working. At all. That dark thing in my mind was back, twisting around like a shadowy monster. Maybe, listen to the scientists who were just as freaked out as I was? "How is it!" "We don''t know!" "We need the main body transferred into isolation, Syuen''s orders!" One plus side was that I wasn''t going to have to deal with whatever got rammed through my chest again. Hopefully. I''d only been here long enough to know that hope was a long shot. Syuen was a dumbass who''d find a way to do something really dangerous with it. "How do we get it to shut down? Being like this elevates the risk of Mind Switch!" "You know being called it probably isn''t helping," I growled out, not that anyone seemed to be paying me much in the way of attention. Sure, I really would like to be unconscious right now. Rather than dealing with whatever this bullshit was! I was a head, an actual disembodied head! How the hell did you screw up this badly! Still, it was one part hard panic, one part carrying Syuen''s orders to the letter. Ironically, despite being down to a head, pretty much everyone else was acting as if they were headless chickens. I was down to a head, breathing despite not having lungs, capable of speech without vocal cords, and just about everything else going wrong. I. Just wanted. To fucking scream. I wasn''t exactly sure what the damage was, but several of the closest people were covering their ears and groaning in pain, and now I had everyone''s attention. Good news? I had everyone''s attention. Bad news? See good news. But I needed that. Badly. And this acted as stress relief without anyone being punched, kicked, or shot! A win-win for everyone involved. Well, almost everyone. I''m pretty sure that scream probably could have made them jump out of their skins. However, now that I had their attention. "Alright you chuckle fucks, listen up! I''ve spent today being shot at, nearly turned into a pancake, impaled on whatever the hell that was, and a full-on mental breakdown, with that just being today!" I shouted, even if I was nowhere near as loud as the primordial scream of frustration I had just let loose. "All while you got to stay in your nice, cosy, little box! How about you leave the panicking to me, who is currently a disembodied head, who has every single right to be losing their mind about the situation, and instead focusing on fixing the problem!" There was some grumbling, but at the very least, it got them to stop panicking, and start being productive. Presumably. I was smart, but I had no idea about what any of this technobabble nonsense was. That wasn''t my wheelhouse. All I cared about was that I got to have another existential crisis in peace. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x The mission was a failure. Mihara knew what some were saying. This was the first time they encountered Chatterbox, making it a step forward. But if it was a step forward, they''d been knocked a good ten steps back. Yuni and Mihara made a potent team, a near-peerless combination of abilities that could bring down anything. Or as Chatterbox showed her, almost everything. What racked even more was that Chatterbox didn''t even come up with an original trick! It''d done the same thing 313N had done, just far more effectively. It was odd that both would apply the same tactic. But while 313N had done such in a panicked last-ditch effort, Chatterbox seemed much more, analytical. As if it were sizing them up. About how much of a threat they would naturally be. Or, and the thought made Mihara shudder, it was seeing how well their powers would work on itself. As if it had observed them before. Yuni had told her another chilling fact. That Chatterbox was smart enough to talk. To understand. That it had told 313N to obey it. 313N, in a fashion most typical to herself, told Chatterbox to get stuffed, managed to dodge its charge, burying it in a building, before grabbing the two of them and running away. At least Mihara knew that 313N wouldn''t simply abandon them for the sake of her survival. That was, better than she had expected, though she was still thankful for it. Yuni seemed somewhat shocked, but losing half her body would do that, nor was that a healthy state to remain active in. But it did raise a lot of questions. 313N''s ability to almost, hear Chatterbox, was abnormal in the extreme, and more than likely, tied to the demand of obedience. Her first thought, and fear, was corruption. But for that to be possible? She didn''t know how. 313N hadn''t been to the surface before. And while she had certainly been impaled with something, it wasn''t near vital systems, nor did it look particularly Rapture in origin. Chatterbox could have infected her somehow with the initial hit, but 313N had been hair it long before that point. However, 313N had been cleared upon return. The Ark''s security measures detected such things. A corrupted Nikke running amok was something that Raptures had no doubt tried in the past. If 313N had been corrupted, then she would have been dealt with. A mercy killing in every sense of the word. But the fact they were all still alive didn''t change the fact that the operation had been a disaster. It didn''t matter what the board or even Syuen said, even though she knew that was exactly what the CEO was thinking. They had failed miserably. If it wasn''t for the Pilgrim, they all would have been killed. Or worse. Even with their powers and 313N being willing to see what the situation already was, they still only made it out alive by sheer luck. Mihara was fully confident in their ability to capture it when it came to a confrontation. It was fights like this that Wardress was made for. But Chatterbox had led them into a trap and had shrugged off the worst they had to offer, even with 313N having some degree of heads up. It was smarter than anyone had thought it was, and it was tough. Tough enough that it tore off its arm without a second thought, rendering her power useless in less than seconds. It rebuilt its arm in a matter of seconds, meaning that even if she avoided using her powers to swap their sense of pain, there was still little they could do against it. Never mind that the first time they ran into it was when 313N was there. That couldn''t be a coincidence. She wasn''t sure how, but more and more was piling up around what most people would consider an ordinary Mass-Produced Nikke. Memory from before the Raptures arrived. The ability to increase how quickly her nerves fired for brief intervals. And now, the attention of a Tyrant-class Rapture that in one day shattered their understanding of Raptures to pieces. What had happened when making her? x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "I''m unsure how such a thing managed to transpire." "You are lucky that I don''t think you''re lying to me. But compensation must be had." Chapter 8 I flexed my fingers, trying to get a feel for things. It didn''t feel like things had changed much, if at all. If you had told me that this body and the old one were the same, I''d believe you. Whether it was? I''d have to run it through the paces. It''d come down to just how cheap these people were. Given that Syuen was involved, the odds were high. I knew how good of a drug spite was. Personal experience and all that. So odds were, she was probably feeling very spiteful towards me as well. The problem was, that I was put into a body in an operation I didn''t consent to, expected to fight on the front lines of some grand conflict, and was largely considered disposable. She was a CEO. Acting spiteful left Syuen with considerably more to lose. Once one reached the top, all that was left was gravity. However, my rock bottom situation could easily prove itself to have a false bottom as well. It wasn''t as if those false bottoms already appeared by this point. "Of course, a custom frame will take time and data, as to avoid unnecessary damage as much as possible," I listened to the egghead talk as I continued to just, stretch out my body. After being a head, being able to move around felt right. Even though I managed to knock myself unconscious again, I''d rather not have to experience anything like that ever again. I''d rather not experience a lot of things ever again at the moment. "However, it will take time before the body is prepared, and during that period, you will notice some adjustments," the man continued as I stopped my flexing. Now if that wasn''t ominous, I would eat a hat. "And what exactly do you mean by that?" I frowned, giving the man a look. To his credit, unlike most of the people who''d I''d asked questions, he didn''t seem to be phased. "An individualized body will take time to develop into its own. To an extent, it reflects what you desire to be," the man explained, actually answering a question to my surprise. Telling of what it was like here, that such a basic thing could elicit such a reaction on my part. Of course, it also sounded like technobabble bullshit of the highest caliber. How could it not? Try as I might to not think about such matters, Nikke''s body wasn''t organic. It wasn''t something capable of growth. At least, it damn well shouldn''t be. Especially if it was based on something as vague and nebulous as desire. What exactly did that mean, anyway? Did that mean that Yuni was older than she looked? Instead of looking like someone who was all of twelve at best? I''d still poke fun at her. If she chose to look like a child, then she shouldn''t have the right to complain about being called one. If what was really how this worked in the first place? Either way, if that was the worst that happened to her, given what she did to me? I was well within my rights to be worse, and frankly, could have been. "That sounds almost farcical," I admitted bluntly, crossing my arms. The man simply chuckled. "I imagine it sounds like a tall tale from someone with your perspective," he simply smiled, causing me to raise an eyebrow. A person capable of understanding how messed up this was? Alright, what exactly is the catch? "I don''t know how long it will take, exactly, however. There is a considerable amount of information to consider. Quite possibly, we might not be able to increase resistance to the strain your body is under to make sure maintenance is within standard deviation for a Nikke," he continued, as I nodded. "Because the parts need to be resistant to both tension and compression, correct?" I asked as the man gave me a surprised look. "I must admit, I didn''t expect you to know about the differences in stresses," he said, nodding as he did so. "But yes, that is correct. And while Goddesium is considerably better at such things, I cannot say that it is perfect, especially for internal parts." As far as dumb science fiction metals went, I''d heard far crazier things than Goddesium. It fit with the whole Nike association, that Nikke''s were supposed to be these Goddesses of Victory. I understood the propaganda value of such things. I did. Humanity in those early days when the Raptures first started invading? Had to be terrified, turning to anything it could to be a vessel of its salvation. But whatever dreams that may have been, authentic or otherwise, had long since decayed away. I didn''t have a full picture, but what I did see, was not pleasant. The fact that this was allowed for even humanity''s so-called "Goddesses" was, just maddening. Syuen was an entitled brat, and it made sense for her to surround herself with those who felt the same way she did. Deep down, however, I knew it was more than just Syuen. No matter how much rot cascaded in from the top, there was always a bigger fish. The board being an example of something Syuen had to answer to. The board had no problem with my treatment, other than making it clear that they did not like Syuen possibly wasting an asset. Bait. That''s what I was now. An upgrade from being a suicide bomb. But not exactly much of one, either. As far as the board was concerned, my only value was how well I could track this Chatterbox, thing. Which was stupid. I doubt just having a somewhat improved body was going to be enough to let us fight that thing on even terms. Beat it in an even fight? Capture it? Not a chance in hell. It took one of those Pilgrims to scare Chatterbox off. And what had she even used to take off its arm? A laser canon? A rail gun? Either was powerful. But if the Ark, or just Syuen''s company in general, could make something of that caliber, why didn''t they? That had concerning implications. Of what had once been possible. And how much the Ark had lost over the years. Which did not have promising chances of reclaiming the surface from the Raptures, if humanity had been driven underground. With whom knows how much manufacturing capacity and technology was lost along with it? None of this still made any sense to me. How was humanity still alive, despite the clear overmatch of capacity? How had the Raptures not found the Ark yet? What even were the Raptures? "I''m sure it''s a lot to take in. But at the moment, the approach to Chatterbox is being heavily revised at all levels," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. How far could I push that now, anyway? The fact that the plan existed in its former form in the first place was already enough to show that these idiots had no idea how to handle the situation. "We went in against an enemy that was considerably underestimated, likely from a lack of intelligence on what was considered to be nothing more than just a dumb Rapture. Which nearly led to an elite special operations team being wiped off the map," I scowled. "Call me old-fashioned, but that type of military fuck-up is something that gets people sacked. Not having the same issues that caused the problem the first time, think up a ''better plan''." "If it were a military operation, it might," and that was a large part of my problem with this. A military existed. In this situation, how could it not? And yet, Syuen seemed largely free to move as she pleased. Either meaning that she had managed to fly under the radar. Or her actions had approval from the military. Or Government. Perhaps, they were the same. I didn''t know. But given Yuni''s words, I didn''t have any faith in the military being competent either. Sure, I''d be trusting Yuni. But I wouldn''t deny that my refusal to trust anything out of her or anyone else''s mouth had already bitten me in the ass. She had been honest with me. I didn''t have to like either of them to recognize that they were telling me just how terrible the current situation was. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "Still, as I understand the current situation, we don''t have any record of what your body used to look like, which is typically used as a baseline," he said. I simply nodded my head, before I started taking. Time to find out if some suspicions were correct. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "What do you mean, it used to be a guy!" Syuen was thankful that her office was empty and mostly soundproof. Yet another thing about 313N that was going to be a problem. Because of course things couldn''t be that simple. Because 313N couldn''t stop causing trouble just by simplifying existing. "I don''t care what you have to do, smother it!" Syuen ordered, her scowl growing worse and worse by the second. 313N had been a perpetual pain in her side. But this? This was a bit more of a problem than just a mass-produced model gone wrong. This was an actual problem. One that could get her in no small bit of trouble. While the records were clear on whom 313N was converted from, even the idea of converting a man into a Nikke would have people looking through their records with a fine comb. Never mind that the already increased risk of Mind Switch, a simply likely event that might turn out lucky, to a certainty. That meant any plans she had for 313N were now on a timer. A timer she had no way of knowing how long she had until things went catastrophically wrong. Now she was caught between a rock and a hard place. As much as Syuen enjoyed the fact that it was certain 313N would be out of her hair by some point in the future, the board wanted Chatterbox. Originally, she had time to reevaluate and come up with a better plan. Now she was facing a time constraint. One that could end in the next few seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months. Ideally, she could capture Chatterbox before any further issues developed, then she could pawn off 313N''s mind switch to someone else. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I wasn''t exactly surprised that there wasn''t a thing for male Nikke''s. I''d never heard of such a thing, as it was kind of clear in the name. Nike was a female Goddess, after all. So life shits on my plate once again. But it was an expected steaming dump on my plate. I felt the darkness in my mind flare up, twisting back to life for a moment before I slugged it in the face. By no standard of measurement was I fine. This just made things worse. I didn''t know how to approach this. I figured my old life was gone, but it was just, buried. There was nothing I could do to reclaim even that little back. To claw back some resemblance of my old life. Even if only in name. Instead, I was stuck like this. Likely forever. It felt like a weight on my chest. One reminder on top of countless others. Threatening to crush my chest into fine powder. Out of all the things I''d lost, it almost seemed trivial. A mound of dirt next to a mountain. Yet it felt like a mountain all the same. Even next to everything else I''d learned. The serial number now made more sense in context. Mass-produced. That was what this body was. Something that could be produced easily, and then thrown into the meat grinder. Cannon fodder was a generous description of what I was. It explained why, just the other day, I saw so many people with this exact face. Not my face. Not my hair. Literally, something repeated in mass. Disposable. The fact looking back at me was one of dozens, if not hundreds. Possibly into the thousands. Maybe even more. It stared back at me. I could control it, the expressions, how it looked. But it was still not one of a kind. It wasn''t my face. It was never going to be my face. Even as it gazed back at me in the mirror. It just wasn''t mine. I scowled, digging through the drawer near the sink. Screw that. Screw the fact that it wasn''t my face. That was something I could change. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "You look like your hair was attacked with a pair of scissors," Yuni''s expression made it clear that she intended it to be an insult. "Because I did," I said simply, sitting down. Of course, the haircut didn''t look good. I was not a stylist by any stretch of the imagination. The ponytail and bangs were gone. Most of my hair was cut short, but very uneven. It was far shorter than even my hair used to be. Even before I was forced into this body. It had earned me a few odd looks, but nobody had said anything. "It fits," Mihara said, poking at her food. I wonder how far this I was originally a guy stuff was going to spread. If it had spread in the first place. People probably didn''t want that type of thing spreading around. Still, hopefully, there was a bit of time before any more dumb missions from Syuen. I at least wanted to be prepared for what could come next. We got lucky with Chatterbox. Probably with the Raptures in general. I didn''t want to rely on luck to stay alive. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "They''re keeping quiet. But they likely ran into a Pilgrim," the man being given the report nodded. The damage noted by their intelligence was completely contracted by the mission report. Normally, this wouldn''t be an issue. But the damage was unexpected. Combined with the flurry of meetings from the board and several Misillis higher-ups? It was clear something had happened that the company had considered extremely important. "What makes you think a Pilgrim is involved?" the older man asked back, frowning slightly. "Given the damage sustained, it''s highly unlikely that those involved managed to flee from the Raptures without outside aid," was the response, and the damage reports were detailed and abundantly clear. Those types of damages spread out across an entire squad typically meant said the squad had been wiped out. So unless the damage reports were lying. It was unlikely. Not impossible, but extremely unlikely. Though they were operating under an extreme assumption in that case. They needed something far more solid than just suspicions. The squad in question was Wardress. That didn''t give them a lot of options. What exactly Misillis did with the squad was hard to pin down in theory. Even if it wasn''t exactly hard to extrapolate things. But there was a noteworthy addition. One 313N. Mass-produced. The man flipped through the notes. Mass-produced prototype for the new Product 08 model. Why exactly is a mass-produced doing attached to an elite squad? That didn''t make much sense. That was an angle. They didn''t seem to have much information about the Product 08. But that could be used to get information. Syuen was not exactly known for her treatment of Nikkes. It could be possible to see if she was willing to speak about what was going on with Wardress and their missions. The problem was getting in contact with her. As of the moment, she was working in one of Misillis''s private squads. That did put her outside the normal chains to an extent. Someone with his rank could push. But pushing Syuen on such matters would not be an effective use of his leverage. There were other ways to pass along a message though. "Let me know when Wardress is about to go on a mission next as soon as you hear about one," he ordered. "Sir!" The man saluted, before leaving the office. It would be a stretch, but he could pull some strings. Possibly get one of his own assigned to the mission, so he could pass along a message. Then it would be on 313N to respond. Ideally, she would. Part of him was banking on Syuen''s treatment of 313N to get her to be receptive to alternate ideas of deployment. It was without a shadow of a doubt the CEO was toeing the line. It was more than likely Syuen was stepping over it. Solid proof was needed. While the word of a mass-produced Nikke wouldn''t be enough, she could point them in the right direction when it came to such matters. Chapter 9 "This mission will include a Commander on the ground," the person speaking wasn''t Syuen. But they were getting orders from her. The glare sent my way made that clear enough. "I''m aware for Wardress that this is not a regular occurrence. So I must remind you all to be on your best behavior for the extension of the mission." It was nice to not be singled out directly, but it wasn''t hard to tell who that comment was aimed towards. However, the fact that I had to be warned meant that I probably wasn''t exactly going to be pleased by one of these Commanders. "And what about the issue?" Mihara asked. We weren''t supposed to call Chatterbox by its designation, which was going to infuriate me to no end. "Due to changes in its behavior, we are seeing what exactly it will react to. As well as what won''t provoke it," they said. Testing Chatterbox for how it responded to threats? And what is it considered to be worth an engagement for? "This is why this is a standard kill mission," they continued. "Because working with Matis is a standard kill mission," Yuni huffed, seemingly disappointed. Honestly, though, I considered it somewhat intelligent. Something I never thought I''d think about a Syuen-made plan. Based on what little I''d been able to find, Matis was the singular best squad Misillis had access to. After the last mission ended in a dumpster fire? It made sense to see how Chatterbox responded to the biggest stick the company had. Though, it wasn''t like that would be the only variable. Chatterbox could be too far away to engage, too tied down by other matters, or better yet, dead. I wasn''t going to deny that was what I really wanted. Screw the board and their profit margins. Chatterbox was a problem. If we brought something like that inside the Ark, we''d only be inviting a calamity into what was supposed to be humanity''s last sanctuary. Something I very much did not care for. Sure, the Ark wasn''t giving me many reasons to care. But that didn''t mean I wanted people to get killed from the resulting screw-up that bringing Chatterbox into the Ark would no doubt result in. Syuen needed to get burned for that stupidity alone. How did you not expect this to go wrong and possibly bite you on the ass? Something of that power level in the Ark was asking for trouble. Ideally, that would be an issue for future me. Ideally. The situation on that front was as far from ideal as it could get. Sure, the plan was sound on paper. But most plans tended to be that way. It was when you came into contact with an enemy that a plan became an issue. Plans were better to have than not. But plans were also meant to be thrown away. No amount of planning could come up with a counter to anything your enemy did. And it still could go pear-shaped simply off of the basic fact that something would go wrong. Murphy was an ass like that. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "So, who''s the new girl?" Mihara did her best to keep a straight face. It wasn''t hard to imagine that Maxwell would be curious. If rumors hadn''t spread about Wardress''s new member, then Mihara would be impressed. At the moment, 313N was keeping her distance, running through a few checks on her new rifle in the corner. They''d done training with the new firearm, though she had a hard time telling what exactly it was. The engineers had called it a cross between an assault rifle and a sniper. There were tradeoffs for something in the middle of the road, but it was hard to argue against 313N''s point that it complimented her abilities more. She''d shown that off during the trials. At the moment, 313N seemed to be content to ignore everything around her in favor of maintenance. Not that the new weapon likely needed such attention. Frankly, Mihara was happy that she managed to keep 313N away from any alcohol these past few days. She had no idea how much the mass-produced Nikke wanted to drink. But Mihara knew that was going to be a bad idea. Especially as 313N seemed to be more curious if she could get drunk enough to drown her sorrows. Which meant that she didn''t think that she could successfully do so. That was a bad combination before the alcohol. While 313N wasn''t as aggressive as she liked to give off, alcohol tended to make one very stupid. Never mind acting in ways one wouldn''t normally consider. If 313N was an angry drunk, which she just might be, then anyone who pissed her off was liable to see a gun trick, or something equally stupid. It just wasn''t worth it. "She''s 313N. A modified 08 model," Mihara said, doing her best to keep the aforementioned girl in her line of sight. But 313N''s own eyes seemed to be locked on Laplace and Drake on the other end of the craft. The Commander was upfront at the moment, leaving them to talk freely. As for Laplace and Drake, the two seemed to be in something of a friendly argument. Was that why 313N was keeping her eyes on them? Or was she just shy? It was hard to tell. 313N was understandably guarded. Mihara still knew precious little about her. Outside of possibly somehow coming from the past, but that wasn''t anything particularly personal. She was definitely softer than 313N cared to let on. But with the amount of effort she put into being prickly to anyone who tried to even approach her right now? The line of how much of it was putting up defenses versus how much of it was genuine was difficult to tell. Her aversion towards Matis made it seem like 313N just wasn''t a people person in general, with Maxwell being the only one not egregiously loud. At the very least, loud in a way that 313N could easily ignore. "Modified? She doesn''t look all too different to me," Maxwell said, stretching as she did so. The statement more than caught 313N''s attention. "I know, right? They shoved me onto this thing and the only thing I have to tell me it''s different is their word," 313N''s voice was sharp, nor was the statement what she was expecting. "Yeah, that figures," Maxwell flashed a smile. "Didn''t expect you to have any snark though. Most of you 08 models are the quiet and calm types." 313N''s eyes narrowed, despite the innocuous statement. "Yes. How, stereotypical of them. All the snipers must be calm, cool, and collected," 313N''s tone was utter venom, despite the fact it was aimed at anyone in the room. There was some brief muttering that came out of her mouth as 313N ducked out of the conversation. "Abrasive one, isn''t she?" Maxwell laughed as Mihara sighed. "You don''t even know the half of it," Mihara pinched her brow. Maxwell was far from wrong. "How exactly did you end up like that, anyway?" Maxwell turned her attention back to 313N before Mihara could do anything to stop her. "Nothing much. Just waking up with someone''s hand digging around in your chest, and when you understandably freak out because someone was digging around in your chest without consent, the boss lady decides to torture you back into line. When that doesn''t fully work, the boss decides to attach you, an untrained civilian, to a black operations unit to hunt down a giant armored gorilla that pushed in our shit so hard it''s a miracle it didn''t come out our mouths. The reason the curb-stomping even occurred was because of an intelligence FUBAR that would normally get someone sacked for gross incompetence," 313N''s eyes narrowed into slits, with the entire transport bay falling silent. She wasn''t naming names, but at the same time, the only way you couldn''t piece together who was who in that story was if you were a complete moron. Maxwell simply laughed, cutting through the tension like a knife, even if some of the venom remained. "Oh, I think the two of us are going to get along just fine," Maxwell got about, smiling as she did so. Though 313N didn''t seem all that impressed. "In part because I''m not going to be the one to do that." 313N only had enough time to register the thumb pointing at the other end of the transport, as a blue and gold blur connected with the mass-produced Nikke''s body. "Don''t worry! I''ll save you!" Laplace shouted mere seconds before contact. 313N let out an indigent squawk as her personal space was swiftly invaded. The self-proclaimed hero managed to get 313N into a death grip as 313N struggled to free herself. On the other end of the craft, Yuni and Drake both howled in amusement as 313N stopped resisting. The expression on her face though made it clear that she really didn''t care for the woman now trying to comfort her. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Mihara could only shake her head as Maxwell had a smug look on her face. Getting Laplace to let go now was a struggle that wouldn''t be worth the effort. Hopefully, 313N wouldn''t mind the intrusion upon her personal space for much longer. It was then the Commander poked his head back in, mouth open as if to say something, before simply sighing, rubbing his forehead for a moment. "We land in five minutes. Be ready," he said curtly, before leaving them to the chaos. Mihara didn''t exactly blame him for wanting nothing to do with this either. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x The combat mission was going to be straightforward. Find Raptures. Kill Raptures. Repeat until the problem is gone. However, part of me was still paranoid. I hadn''t heard anything yet, but it wasn''t until first contact that I started hearing something the first time. As for the Commander? I''d expected the worst based on Mihara and Yuni''s stories. I couldn''t tell if they were just trying to wind me up right now though. The idea of luring Raptures into a kill zone at least made sense. It would probably work for most Raptures. Chatterbox certainly wouldn''t fall for such a trick. But it wasn''t like I''d say no to an elevated defensive position. The problem was finding such a vantage point in a ruined city. At least, one that didn''t have the risk of collapsing on top of or underneath us. I was staying near Yuni and Mihara. Out of familiarity than anything else. I wasn''t sure what to make of Matis at the moment. Drake, the one with the short white hair alongside black and red armor was weird. Okay, all of them were weird, something I should have seen coming from the BDSM couple being the special ops team. She laughed like some type of Saturday morning cartoon villain or something straight out of Power Rangers. But the moment I managed to worm my way out of Laplace and her violation of my personal space, she came over to ask if I was okay. Because that''s what the villain was supposed to do, apparently. That alone caused my brain to short-circuit just a bit. Maxwell seemed nice enough, and the closest one to sane. Laplace? I''ll admit, despite the fact I certainly didn''t want to be touched by strangers in general, I needed something resembling a hug. Her heart was in the right place. I think. The reason I thought that was because I wasn''t sure she had a brain to listen to her heart. Immediately leaping to hug someone you didn''t know was something I didn''t like. Especially if you didn''t ask for permission first. Even if it was clear they needed help, it was better to ask permission first. Someone might have anxiety. Or germophobia. Or maybe they just didn''t want to be touched by a random person they just met. I was one of those people. What I could tell is that they were armed to the teeth. Maxwell had waist-mounted battery packs, as well as a cord coming out of what appeared to be the base of her spine, which connected to a massive rifle. I couldn''t tell whether it was a kinetic weapon or an energy gun. The cord suggested energy, but it could just take a lot of power to fire a weapon of that size. Laplace carried a cannon. There was no way to describe it. It looked like one of those old ship cannons one used to see on sailing vessels, centuries ago. Expect it could be carried by hand, colored blue and gold, just like Laplace''s armor. I wasn''t sure where she had been keeping the thing, either. I had no idea what it could do. But it was clear that whatever it was, the weapon was an advanced piece of hardware. Drake''s shotgun almost seemed mundane by comparison. The key word being seemed. It was abundantly apparent that Syuen had taken a considerable amount of effort to arm Matis as much as she could. With as much advanced weaponry as she could spare. I was almost surprised. Almost. I didn''t know much about inter-corporate politics, but making sure what you marketed as your best had the best equipment made sense. I thought the gun I had was an upgrade. Now? I was considerably envious. They got a lot of high tech gizmos, while I was still using a basic ballistic rifle. Though it wasn''t like Yuni and Mihara were better off. The type of tech that went into Matis was probably limited. Or it was experimental crap that came with downsides. Which was never a good idea to deploy without compensation. With Syuen, either was possible. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x A Rapture exploded on the edge of the pack''s formation, Maxwell''s laser rifle tearing through it in one powerful shot. I moved on to a new target, three rounds puncturing the Rapture''s core. Frankly, compared to everyone else, I was a drop in a river of munitions that went down range. Maxwell and her laser gun could take out a Rapture far faster than a bullet could. While Laplace and her explosions were hard to miss. Never mind the damn energy stream it could emit whenever a big Rapture got close that could metal one of the things that could melt it into slag in a matter of seconds! It was hard trying to measure up to that much destructive force. "Come on, you got to have something special up your sleeve," Maxwell teased, seeming to take it upon herself. I certainly had figured out a trick. After all, the whole point of getting more ammunition was to mag-dump a lot of rounds into some poor sucker''s face. It''s just that it was loud. Then again, with two explosive weapons, it wasn''t like we were going quiet by this point. Screw it. Our presence was already known, kill box be damned. And the teasing wasn''t going to stop from her unless I strut my stuff just a bit. I felt the world slow down around me as I lined up a shot. Before I could pull the trigger, something caught my eye. They were moving slowly now as they flew through the air. But since when were those missiles launched? What put them up in the air? Well, that was a problem for the next few seconds. Because the trick of destroying several Raptures in the span of a second or so was going to be far less impressive than sniping a few rockets out of the air. I took care to note the path the rockets were taking before I began to fire. With only six targets, I figured it would be best to aim three bullets at each. Overkill? Certainly. But it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to such matters. Each bullet slowed mere moments after it exited the barrel, coming to the same crawl as everything else around me. It didn''t take long for me to empty my clip as I began to feel a tingle in my spine. There was one thing left to do. Turn off my hearing. I''d heard it before in the simulation. Guns were loud. That went without saying. But what happens when you fire a rifle at an increased speed? When you empty the entire magazine in what was in reality a single second? That was very, very loud. I saw everyone around me wince at the sound of eighteen gunshots in nearly an instant. I was already ducking behind cover as I reloaded didn''t let me see my handiwork. But by that point, I''d already switched my hearing back on in time to be filled by the sound of explosions. "Give us some warning next time!" I barely heard Yuni''s voice over the sound of the shockwaves, so I chose to pretend I couldn''t hear her. "A heads-up of some sort would be appreciated if you''re going to do something like that again," the Commander said, rubbing his ears. The words sent a chill down my spine. Not because of the content. But rather the weight. It was just a suggestion and yet I almost felt the pressure on my mind. "Yes Sir," I said, doing my best to hide my sudden spike in hostility. What the actual hell was this shit? He suggested something and I felt like I had to listen to him? What the hell would happen if this guy gave me an actual order? Chapter 10 I was still bristling. I knew I shouldn''t have been in a manner. Even the slightest risk of my anger boiling over was proving itself to be impossibly risky. As in, it could get my head blown off, risky. But at the same time, why should I give a rat''s ass? These absolute lunatics threw me into a robotic body with breasts and made me into a soldier without any consent on my part, and as if that wasn''t bad enough, some people could just, give me an order, just about any order, no matter how demented or foul, and I''d have to listen to it. Had to obey it. I was steaming. Beyond that, really. There was simply no way to put how I felt into words. How could I? There was an entire group of people who could just defile my autonomy with just a few words! Just because they damn well felt like it! I wanted to lash out. To rage against yet another way the world seemed fit to deny my very humanity. But at the same time? I was starting to get tired. Rage was only good when you had a lot of it to give. And I did. From the moron Syuen who did this to me, to, well, everything else. But there was a point where you could only give so much. And I was well past that point. Rage wasn''t bottomless, and neither was my temper. I was angry, beyond that. But exhaustion was already worming its way in, and it was only the freshness of this new injustice that was the only thing keeping my rage going. Of course, I wasn''t going to mouth off to my ''commanding officer''. No matter how much even thinking that made me wish I retained the ability to vomit. Syuen, I would poke well enough, because I was on technical grounds too important for her to just simply kill. This man? Could put a bullet through my head at wouldn''t even get so much as a slap on the wrist. If that. The best target for my temper were nothing but the Raptures themselves. Which was a good thing. Genocidal Alien robots always made of good punching bags and victim free stress relief. And these ones seemed, dumber, than the ones before. Yeah, they were still a problem, there was no way they wouldn''t be. But they didn''t seem like, Chatterbox, really. Which in my book, was a damn good thing. I''d rather not pick a fight with that bastard anytime soon. He could stay the hell away from me for all I cared, and I could live my life without seeing his stupid mechanical face ever again! Sure, that very thought process was nothing more than me waving a red flag in front of Murfphy''s face before egging his house, but again. I didn''t give a rat''s shit about anything like that. Not at this point. There were only a handful of ways Murphy could make my life worse right now, and frankly? He was going to make me suffer more before he resorted to things like that. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x Mihara resisted the urge to massage her forehead. She should have seen this coming. Of course, 313N was going to have issues. Again, and again, just leaving her out like this without proper preparation was going to bite them in the ass. At least at the moment, 313N was keeping her mouth shut. But it was clear to pretty much everyone that she was stewing. Perhaps not the Commander. In that case, he could either have noticed, but not cared, or simply not noticed. It was always a toss-up in situations such as this. The important part was, what had pissed 313N was enough to keep her from running her mouth. She''d been willing to poke and proud at Syuen at the drop of a hat. So 313N not resorting to antagonism straight away was a bit of a surprise. Though what set 313N off in hindsight was obvious. Stupidly so. Who thought that no exposure was going to be a good idea? Every Nikke was used to a Commander. It was drilled and inserted into their minds before they saw combat. Experience that their special unit with a messed up NIMPH didn''t have. Not that they wanted 313N to have much, either, as she was meant to be a special model, put on the front lines only because Syuen ordered it so and was kept there because of a freak accident that gave her use to Misillis as a whole. An ability they wanted to keep under wraps, understandably so. Sure, it wasn''t pure benevolence on the part of the board, but the alternatives could be considerably worse. Even if limited to Chatterbox, it was exceptional. If it could be broadened to Tyrant classes overall? Even better. Such a power had important recon and intel applications. One that the military itself would love to get their hands on if they knew about it. They would be considerably less gentle about things. Yes, the board was concerned first and foremost with its profits. But the military had its brand of politics, one more focused on personal status than simple wealth. One that would easily have considerably less issue rendering 313N down into nothing more than a pile of scraps if doing so even had a slight chance of working out in their favor. So on one hand, trying to keep that under wraps, and keeping 313N away from any Commanders that could have higher obligations, or even worse, ambitions, was understandable. Money could only go so far in paying someone off, after all. And all it took was one person getting a bad idea to cause issues. So understandable, but still liable to bite them in the ass. "Is she going to do alright?" Maxwell whispered to her, even as everyone was keeping their guard up. 313N was scanning the sky, looking for airborne targets. Despite her angry state, she was still picking up good habits. "It''s hard to tell with her, really," Mihara frowned, trying to put it in a way that wouldn''t draw as much attention. Or invite further poking from their allies. 313N did not have the temper to deal with any more unpleasant surprises at the moment. "It''s best to give her time to cool off." That was probably the best option they had at the moment. The best way to deal with 313N was to either let her cool down or say screw it and set off that land mine. And while detonating a land mine had its appeal, this was the wrong place to even try such a thing. Maxwell''s expression told her that the blonde wasn''t entirely sure on the matter. Letting someone at least release their frustrations was the best option. But the problem was, who was causing the issues was in earshot constantly. Something 313N had to be aware of. So for now, their best option was to just, wait it out, and hope the mission was done by the time 313N was ready to release her frustrations. Speaking of 313N, she had raised her rifle, focusing on a distant point off on the horizon. "Please don''t tell me Raptures have cruise missiles," 313N''s voice made it very clear that she was past the point of being done, even if it had a twinge of fear running underneath. "Nah, that just looks like a miniature Storm Bringer. Not the biggest deal," Maxwell said, looking through her scope. Even though Mihara could only see the back of 313N''s head, she could almost hear the muscles twitch in her face. She could almost imagine the expression of pure disgust that 313N had to be wearing. "I can already tell by the name alone that God will be shitting in my dinner once again," 313N said with all the enthusiasm that she was capable of mustering. Though, it was hard to deny why 313N felt the way that she did. Especially with that again remark. Because that seemed to be the story of just about everyone''s lives at this point. "Which one?" Yuni teased, as 313N scowled at her. "Does it matter?" 313N ground out, still keeping her weapon trained at the rapidly approaching target. Maxwell was right. This one was considerably smaller than the usual Tyrant class. It had to be a lesser model. Not that such a thing was going to make the ensuing fight any less dangerous. Just more survivable. "Get to the most secure cover that you can. If we have to fight this, it needs to be on as many of our terms as possible," their Commander said. "If we can get it to pass us by without giving us a second thought, that''s great, but if it chooses to engage us, I want us to be ready for it." Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Mihara nodded. So they managed to tap a smart one. Good. They could take it now, but it would cost them. Not enough to jeopardize the mission, unless something went wrong. But conserving their strength would be the smarter move. Even if it may just be a futile effort in the long run. They quickly began to move into positions among the ruined buildings before them, as the air slowly began to fill with the charge of electricity. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x "She''s capable, if nothing else," though that wasn''t saying much. Many Nikke''s were just that. Capable. "Though based on her behavior, I''m unwilling to say if she''d be willing to consider your offer." "What makes you say that?" The man raised an eyebrow, curious as to why. "A few different reasons. While there is no doubt in my mind they wouldn''t at least consider such an offer, I don''t think they''d be willing to accept such a thing from us specifically," the expression on the younger''s face was almost unreadable. "Merely making a suggestion aimed her way caused an unnatural amount of obedience. Enough that made her grate under such orders." The older of the two paused. Needing to give a Nikke orders was nothing out of the ordinary. That was, unfortunately, the way things were. A Nikke being too responsive to orders? That wasn''t entirely unheard of, but it was not a problem that tended to pop up all that often. "I believe it unnerved her, considerably so," the younger man continued, though the older could already see the picture that was being painted. Unwilling might not be the proper word then. Rather, untrusting. Unwilling to let someone else have that much power over them, no more than was necessary. That was a considerably harder bridge to cross, though not without his sympathies. Yes, trust was something that could be earned, but coming from such a perspective, it would be hard-earned at best. Impossible at worst. An ultimately concerning prospect. Not an insurmountable one by any means. Having eyes on the inside, especially those of a Nikke into what Misillis was doing would be an asset. But it was better to have someone willing to work for you on such matters, rather than one that was working for you because they felt like they were forced to. Especially when it came to one who would likely be second-guessing their memories or if this was something that they''d been ordered to do. Never mind that they would likely have the thought at the back of their head about whether they''d be ordered to take the fall. For many, this would be ideal. He wasn''t foolish enough to deny that a fair share of high-ranking commanders would order Nikke''s to fall on their swords, as the saying went. Even those of his rank tended to look at Nikke''s like disposable weapons. Fit to serve their orders and for nothing else. Which was a tragedy, and something that served him little. There was a reason he preferred those who were willing to work with him without such means. Nikke''s were human. And despite the feelings of his contemporaries, treating them accordingly, always produced the best results. If she was willing to work with them despite what was now becoming an increasingly clear mess, then all the power to her. If she was unwilling? Then at the end of the day, that would be her choice. Even if he believed he would be able to help with such matters. To react to what was being described to him was a sign. And it was not a good one. Not being exposed to a commander was far from the most abnormal thing, there was more to this Nikke than what was apparent. Did he know what Misillis did? No, he certainly did not. But he could make a few stabs in the dark, as it were. She was a prototype unit, something that Misillis would want to keep under wraps. And was by and large doing so. Attaching her to their black ops unit was a bit out of left field, pointing to some unique skill that went beyond what was intended for the improved design. That alone was possibly a sign that they considered converting her into a personal model, like the rest of Wardress. Considering the keyword, as such things took a considerable amount of effort to perform. But beyond that? Anything more fell into the territory of pure speculation. Sending a prototype model to the frontline for active testing was not unheard of, but it was still rare and oftentimes was considered a waste of resources. Survival on the surface was far from a certainty, even for short periods. Combat situations tended to make things all the worse, even without mitigating factors. Hopefully, he would be able to meet them in person, even if by this point such an event seemed unlikely. That was a shame, but it was her choice whether or not she chose to meet with him. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x This is what these lunatics consider to be a non-issue! Raputres apping off a mythical creature straight out of Native American folklore! I swear, at this rate, I wasn''t sure if my sanity was going to be intact. I wasn''t even sure if my rounds were having a notable impact on the thing. Sure, Nikke guns weren''t exactly normal firearms by any sane measurement, but that didn''t mean whatever I was shooting into the thing was going to have much purchase simply due to the damn thing''s size. Things of such sizes tended to be utter bullet sponges. And that was if it wasn''t pulling off Chatterbox''s healing trick. Honestly, the odds were more likely the thing was simply large enough to tank the hits we were throwing its way. Well, that was for those of us with more mundane weapons. Safe to say, Matis earned their paycheck. All that fancy equipment wasn''t going to waste. They were having considerably more impact on the monster than just our normal weapons. Maybe. Or maybe I was missing every damn shot by a country mile! Okay, that likely wasn''t the case. For something that flew, it was fairly stationary. Though when you threw around lightning like some cheap knockoff Greek god, I suppose one didn''t need to dodge bullets when you could just smite something down with wind and electricity. Speaking of which! The bolt of lightning whizzed past my head as I ducked behind cover at the last second. I could almost feel the heat from the strike as it bit into the rubble, leaving scorch marks in its wake. I took the time to reload, though it wasn''t like I had almost emptied the clip anyway. Peeking my head around cover to make sure it was focused on somebody else, and to make sure I wasn''t jumping my way into a bullet before I returned fire. Somehow, despite all the lightning, and the literal shock and awe, Chatterbox seemed like a far more imposing foe. Maybe because, despite the fact this thing was a literal force of nature, we were holding our own and hurting it back. Unlike Chatterbox, who didn''t care about any of the injuries we inflicted on him. Another laser beam erupted from Laplace''s cannon, this time punching a hole through where the head should be. It''s frame shuttered and sparked, twitching almost the same way a living creature would before its frame went still, crashing down somewhere in the distance. I kept my rifle trained on the horizon for a few moments longer, half expecting it to spring back to life and continue its rampage. But it didn''t. Nothing came up above the line of ruined buildings. No sign of movement. Just the silence I was beginning to associate with the world above. I took a deep breath, finally pulling myself out of the rubble. Our cover, which had once looked imposing, now looked as if it had been bombed into an even greater mess. Part of the place was crumbling. Slowly, granted, but still. What could have easily stood for years more probably wouldn''t last a month now. "It''s down! As expected for heroes!" Laplace shouted, shaking me from my thoughts. Matis seemed more than happy, each one wearing a grin on their face. No, they didn''t seem happy. They were happy. How? How were they able to be happy in a place as messed up as this? Chapter 11 BOOM! I would like to think at the end of the end of the day, if we all weren''t in an intense fire-fight, trying to stay alive, we would have all facepalmed at what had just happened. It was something out of an action movie. We are at one end of a long, narrow bridge, Raptures on the other. With our superior positioning, we were able to deal with the swarming numbers as they came across, using the city ruins as cover. Given how Raptures had flying units, I had taken the liberty to deal with them before they became a problem. One slipped through. Then Laplace, in what I could only describe as a no-brain cell moment, decided to fire on the thing before I finished reloading. All the while the Rapture was just as much of a special type of stupid because it made no effort to evade the rocket. The projectile hits home, and the Rapture spins out of control. No problem, right? One more Rapture destroyed, one less to focus on. The problem was, the thing spun out and crashed. Right onto the bridge. A bridge that we were also at least supposed to secure for a possible future operation. It''d been news to me, but I wasn''t the one who was a danger to the structural integrity of bridges. The result of a who knows how many-ton flying machine crashing onto a bridge that has not seen major maintenance in decades if I''m being generous? The crash and explosion were the straw that broke the camel''s back. So everyone watched as our objective crumbled apart, gravity no longer being denied its prize, taking most of the Raptures along with it as it crumbled into the canyon. Concrete and metal screaming was enough to drown out the noise of the gunfight, not that there were many Raptures that remained in range after that. Still, I think Laplace could tell all of us were staring at her in both awe and a bit of contempt in equal measure. On one hand, she did just take out several dozen Raptures in what amounted to a single shot. On the other hand, the lack of any kill count bets prevented me from making a that only counts as one reference. And she destroyed our objective. Part of the reason we''d come out all this way for. And I don''t think any of us liked that very much. Sure, it probably wasn''t massively important, but it was still the principle of the thing. We''d just risked life and limb for something she blew up by what amounted to a freak accident. And while it probably wasn''t fair to blame her for that. I doubted it was going to stop anyone from doing so, even if just to give her shit. "Ops," Laplace rubbed the back of her head, looking rather mortified as she did so. "At least none of us were on the other side, right?" I stared at her for a brief moment. All of us did. Just stared at her. I really could describe my luck right now as a critical failure. There was simply no gentle way to put it. But if that wasn''t a natural one moment, then there would be very few things that were. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x Well, our first official mission could be considered somewhat of a failure, thanks to a certain someone. The most elite squad, my damn ass. Still, we left a whole lot of wrecked Raptures in our wake, as if nothing else, that would at least do some damage in theory. I say in theory because frankly, I imagine these types of missions didn''t really end up accomplishing much. It wasn''t like Raptures controlled the surface, giving them access to all sorts of resources. Or they could literally recycle their own damn dead. It wasn''t like we were fighting living things, but machines. They played by different rules. I wasn''t going to deny that while we did kill a lot of them, killing a lot of them wasn''t going to win us the war. Of course, I was perfectly aware of what I considered a lot was in reality less than a chip off the top of the iceberg. Raptures had to exist on a scale that I simply couldn''t fathom. So what victory that we could claim really didn''t exist. We might have made for another bridge, but by that point, our ammunition supplies had started to run low. At least as far as Wardress was concerned. Matis was probably a bit more fine, due to all the energy weapon bullshit, but we''d been firing our weapons a lot. I was down to just a handful of clips myself, an already concerning prospect given the situation at hand. Thankfully, by that point, the Commander was willing to have us pull back. Sure the objective was destroyed, but it was now denied to our enemies. It sounded like a bit of coping to me, but I didn''t have his marching orders. I was willing to take what I could get. Thankfully, getting back to the transport was completely uncomplicated. Some Raptures were scouting out our path of carnage, but compared to everything else today, they were a minor annoyance at best. And after all that? I was just, kinda done. Thankful that Chatterbox was a no-show, but otherwise, I just wanted to be done with this whole mess. I''d rather not have to deal with any more Raptures or antics. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x I don''t know which was more impressive. The fact I was so tired I managed to fall asleep in a moving vehicle. The fact I missed the antics of everyone on that flight while doing so. Or the fact that someone managed to slip something into my pocket while I was passed out without a single other person in the aircraft noticing. And no, I wasn''t exactly joking, either. Somehow, someway, someone managed to slip a letter onto my person. The process of elimination made things rather simple. It wasn''t Yuni or Mihara. Neither would jump through any number of hoops just to pass me a note, even without taking into account the context of it. Never mind that they were supposed to be keeping an eye on me anyway, so something like this was suspicious if it were from them. While Matis? Between Laplace and Drake, the two couldn''t do anything quietly. Maxwell might, and the girl seemed more than willing to be a bit of a prankster. But this didn''t read like a prank. Then again, I was never the best at telling what was a prank or not. But that left one suspect besides the pilot. The Commander. Which only made things more suspicious. These were coordinates. For a meeting. Which was kinda stupid. Like, come on. I literally just found that people of military rank could effectively mind-control me, and I find this crap in my pocket? That''s, just no. Utterly stupid. If that was a giant red flag, then I didn''t know what was. I''d have to be a complete dumbass to do something like that. And I certainly wasn''t a dumbass. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x No, I was a curious dumbass! And desperate! Unfortunately for me. Nothing had happened, yet. I was honestly a bit surprised. I figured something would have gone wrong by this point. While I was sure I hadn''t been followed, in large part due to Yuni and Mihara appearing to be distracted, I was still nervous. For obvious reasons. This was a stupid idea. And yet, I couldn''t help myself. One way or another, an escape route to this hellscape was being dangled in front of me. Of course, there was a good chance that said escape route simply led to even more hell. With the way my luck was, I couldn''t discount such an option. But damnit, I was already grabbing at sand here! If this could get me a way out, even just the start, I was willing to make the gamble! At least we seemed to be approaching what could be a nice part of the Ark. The buildings were tall and imposing, but they looked clean, and spotless actually, even in the dark of the fake night sky. That had to be there for mental health reasons. Living underground was probably something humans didn''t exactly cope with well. I was pushed through the back in a hurry, led to an elevator, and sent up, with nobody saying a single word. By this point, I was too nervous to even ask questions, and my heart, if I still had it, would be beating a mile a minute. The doors opened with a soundless ding, emptying into an office. My eyes scanned the room. There wasn''t much in the way of light, a little bit coming from a lamp on the desk towards the back. And behind that desk was a man. Despite him sitting down, he felt imposing. The decorated military uniform only enhanced his piercing glare. I swallowed, feeling as if the pressure was only growing more intense with each passing second. He certainly wasn''t the same Commander I''d met before. He was probably just south of middle age, but if so, the man aged like wine, a full head of brown hair kept short. "Please, sit down," his voice was stern yet smooth. I almost bristled then and there, waiting for the pressure to make itself known in my head. But it didn''t. It hadn''t been a statement. It should have been an order. And yet. I slowly made my way over to the chair. Sitting down, it was fairly comfy, despite how minimalist it was. "Thank you. I suppose you''re wondering why I asked to meet you?" He asked. Sitting down across from him only made him seem all the more imposing. "You wanted someone with eyes on the inside of Syuen''s more, discrete business, I imagine," I found my words again, fingers digging into the torn-up letter in my pocket. I would have set the thing on fire if I could, but I couldn''t find a lighter or a fireplace to throw it in. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. There was a slight upward twitch in the man''s lips. "In part, yes," I blinked at his words. In part? Oh, fuck, it was going to be those situations, wasn''t it? "For a mass-produced Nikke to be assigned to a squad like Wardress is uncommon. Living to tell the tale about an encounter with Chatterbox? Even rarer. And if what I''ve heard is even partway true, that''s the least interesting thing about you." So, he already had spies. In a cutthroat world, that wasn''t hard to tell. Everyone was probably spying on everyone else. "Would you mind telling me about yourself, Ms," he paused, offering for me to step in. With a name. The blow hit my chest like a sledgehammer. He was asking me for a name. Not an identification number, or a model number. But the name of a real, breathing person. It was both awe striking in its significance, as it was in its simplicity. "I need to get back with you on that," I swallowed. Then I began to talk. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x The first thing that became apparent to Anderson was that a lot of what he was hearing was illegal. He was well aware that there were ways around it. With enough money, signatures could be easily forged, documents falsified. It wasn''t impossible to get caught, but it was difficult. One of his coworkers had converted his daughter into a Nikke as to raise her from the dead. It didn''t go well. Even without bringing a Rapture of Chatterbox''s caliber onto the Ark, which was its own can of worms, Syuen was breaking several laws. Of course, making such a case in court was impossible with what he had. And it wasn''t as if this Nikke''s case was an anomaly. Sure, she hadn''t agreed to be turned into a Nikke, but it was increasingly clear that she wasn''t the owner of the original, either. Who very well may have consented, only for someone else to wake up. Even without the ability to fabricate evidence, the act in itself fell into a gray area. Everything after that? If not outright illegal, what followed was morally questionable at best. She would clearly be willing to stab Syuen in the face if she had the opportunity to do so. NIMPH was going to stop things before they ever got to that point. "Do you have any idea why Syuen wants to capture Chatterbox?" He asked, careful with how he spoke. Tone was important, and if she was as sensitive as reported, then he needed to treat this carefully. "Something illegal, or unethical. Even if it isn''t, something like Chatterbox? Needs to be kept a long way from here," he raised an eyebrow at her words. Fear was laced everywhere in them. As a Tyrant-class, Chatterbox was imposing. "He''s not like the other Raptures. They just charge in guns blazing. But Chatterbox? He''s smart enough to think. He''s smart enough to plan." "He''s smart enough to talk and mean." Anderson''s pen stopped. Chatterbox was a name given to it, and it was not without reason. It had always been clever. It tended to stay one step ahead, and its body was clearly inspired by great apes like gorillas. This was known, though there was precious little else. "How so," he did his best not to push. To not use even the slightest scrap of his authority. "He can speak with intention. He knows what he says has meaning," the anxiety and almost terror was written on her face as if she expected something to reach out and grab her. "He tried to give me orders." It took every ounce of will to make sure his pen didn''t snap between his fingers. To remind himself that when she returned to the Ark, she would have been scanned. Twice now. "I told it to piss off. Shot it in the face, grabbed Yuni and Mihara then ran like hell," she seemed to be venting now. Anderson wasn''t under any illusions. He was more or less the girls'' therapist at this point. Not that he blamed her. "It followed, obviously, before someone else showed up and shot it, though I don''t know with what. Scared him off though," she breathed, as if her brain finally reminded her that she was supposed to need air. Still, that was concerning. It was possible that details had become foggy with time. "Was the person in white?" He asked, trying to collect his thoughts. Corruption couldn''t be on the table. There were instances of Nikke leaving the Ark unexplainably Corrupt and sabotaging operations. It was rare, but it happened. But she''d gone out twice, and had been scanned twice. Chatterbox being even more intelligent than it initially appeared was a problem on its own. Anderson was privy to information kept secret from the rest of the Ark''s civilians. Raptures were smarter than they appeared overall. How much smarter could be up for debate. So for a Rapture, even a Tyrant-class one, to be operating on a close-to-human level? It could have been a simple circumstance. But that wasn''t something he would trust. "They were, actually," she said. "They had some type of large canon, too." This, couldn''t be a coincidence. Chatterbox, and a Pilgrim? How did one girl end up at the nucleus of these different events? Anderson did not consider himself a paranoid man. Not exactly a trusting man, but far from paranoid. But she had survived a run-in with a Tyrant-Class Rapture, among the more infamous ones at that. Survived due to the intervention of what was most likely a Pilgrim, a group he had long held interest in. She was also a tentative member of Misilis''s black ops team, and an axe to grind with Syuen, the CEO of Misilis. And she just, dropped into his lap. Hell, Chatterbox had tried to give her orders. For all he knew, she could very well tie into the infrequent problem of Nikke''s from the Ark being corrupted. It was almost perfect. Almost. There had to be some type of catch. The story of how she woke up was somewhat suspicious. If there was a truly abnormal part of her story, it was that one. But yet, one didn''t survive in an environment such as the Central Government without being a good judge of character. She did not seem like she was lying. The expression on her face when he asked for a name was the most telling. Most Mass-Produced Models would give their serial numbers. Non-Mass-Produced would give their names. But her? She acted as if someone had punched her in the chest. That the simple act of even asking for a name was some grand gesture, a common kindness she had not gotten in a while. That was not simply a thing one could easily fake. A reaction a person would only have if they remembered what they had been treated like, and wrongfully been denied even that little. All of this? This was an opportunity. His intentions had always been to reach out and see if she was willing to be eyes on the inside of Misilis. One close to Syuen, even if he doubted the CEO would trust the Nikke. He had his own contacts, but it took time to rise through the ranks. But now? She was becoming increasingly more important. She had greater knowledge of Chatterbox than anyone else alive, even if by simple circumstance. And while she likely didn''t know much about Pilgrims, she had encountered one as well. She had value, even if Syuen didn''t know it. Or maybe she did and just didn''t care. It would fit the young CEO''s attitude. "I have an offer you might be interested in." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x It wasn''t a complicated offer. More or less, it could be summed up pretty simply. Make sure Syuen has a bad time. It may not have been today, it may not be tomorrow, but the day would eventually come. Okay, that was more what I was getting out of the deal. Spy on Syuen, so when she finally brought Raptures into the Ark, Anderson would know, and the proper steps could be made. As well as keep an eye on her in general. It wasn''t exactly a bad deal. It just relied on me being spiteful above all else. Sure, I had zero reason to not leave Syuen to get her just deserts. Getting to play a role just made things all the sweeter. But I wasn''t an idiot. Syuen was the devil I knew, and while Anderson seemed nice and willing to extend me kindness that I hadn''t gotten in what felt like months, I had no way of knowing if he was being genuine. It really wasn''t that hard to ask for a name, after all. "I do want some assurances, though," I vocalized. "Those should be simple enough to accommodate," Anderson nodded. "I imagine you want security, to not simply be dropped in case of discovery." That, was exactly what I wanted, actually. "I do believe we can work out the finer details of what exactly that would entail," there was a slight grin on his face again. "Do we have a deal?" It was the devil I knew versus the devil I didn''t. Fuck it. If I get burned, I''ll just take him down in flames too. "I think this could be the start of a very fruitful partnership," I grinned. Sure, I wasn''t exactly the best when it came to spy work, but it wasn''t as if Syuen had an ego a mile long. I could play off that. "Excellent. Have you come up with a name, by chance?" He asked. I had, actually. My old name was dead and dusted. Bringing it back was going to cause me nothing but pain. Plus, I wanted to use it regularly. It wasn''t the most creative name I''d ever heard, but it was still better than a bunch of numbers and letters. "Please call me Elen."