Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I’m not sure where to begin in telling our story, but it must be told. We must not forget what we learned. What it cost, and the weight of the future that died at our hands.

He deserves that much.

---

“Say 2B. When do you think you’ll be willing to call me Nines?”

9S followed behind 2B as they raced across the rickety bridge on their way to the forest that Pascal had told them about.

“9S works just fine.”

“Well…”

Suddenly, the ground started shaking.

“What was that?” cried 2B.

Pod 153 responded. “A sudden spike in energy was detected from the city ruins. This seemed to be the source of the earthquake we just experienced.”

9S chewed his lip anxiously. “Do you think it’s another machine attack?”

His pod responded. “Negative, no machine lifeforms detected at the epicenter of the event.” At this, the pod hesitated, as if it had more to say but wasn’t sure how to put it into words. “I do detect one energy signal at that location. But I cannot get a reading on it from this distance.”

2B’s pod piped up, “Proposal: 2B and 9S could visit the location to obtain more data.”

9S locked eyes with 2B through their respective blindfolds. “What do you think, 2B?”

“I don’t know. It could be dangerous, and it’s unrelated to our mission at present. However… command will likely want to know about an anomaly of this nature. Just… be cautious, 9S. I have a bad feeling about this.”

The two androids both dashed back the way they came. The forest ground flew underfoot as they raced towards the city and whatever they would find there.

---

As they neared the city, the first sight that met their eyes was a giant white tower.

9S looked up, mouth agape. “How… how did this get here? Where did this come from?”

His pod responded helpfully, “Unknown. It’s unlikely that a building of this size could be constructed without being noticed. Hypothesis: the tower was constructed elsewhere and transported here.”

“But, why?” 9S asked in confusion.

2B, who had been considering the sight in silence, spoke up. “The ‘why’ doesn’t matter. We should treat this as a potential threat, and notify Command immediately. Pod, relay the data from the phenomenon to Command and request further instructions.”

“Data transfer already in progress,” Pod 042 reported helpfully.

Turning on her heels, 2B announced, “For now, we should return to the Resistance Camp and resupply, so we’re ready when our orders come in.” And with that, she strutted towards the camp, not looking back to see if 9S would follow.

9S jogged a little to catch up. “Hey, 2B?”

“Yes, 9S?”

“That tower, it’s like nothing we’ve seen before.” 9S pursed his lips. “It could be important. Is it really safe to leave it there?”

“It’s outside of our orders, 9S. Our obligation is to YoRHa HQ and to the preservation of humanity. We can’t act recklessly, or we’ll become a liability.”

“...Okay, 2B.” 9S fell silent, trodding along behind 2B’s more graceful footsteps. He offered a long, thoughtful gaze over his shoulder at the tower as it faded into the distance.

---

9S, as a Scanner, was naturally curious. It was his job to be so, and he was very good at his job. He was the best at his job, actually. So although he followed 2B back to the camp, his mind never left the tower, instead furiously buzzing with thoughts and ideas and questions.

He meant this figuratively of course. His mind was currently very much in his body, although that couldn’t be taken as a given. He tended to spend much of his time in hacking space lately, or in the body of various machines, ever since being assigned to 2B. He’s gotten more ground experience in the past few weeks than ever before. Normally, as a Scanner, it would be much too dangerous to perform the operations they’ve been doing. Good Androids have died that way.

2B makes it look easy. She cuts a path through their enemies, distracts them, and dodges their blows as if she’s dancing. 9S can almost stand still in the battlefield, trusting that she’ll protect him from any threats.

He’s never felt safer.

He’s never felt more afraid to lose something.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got orders from Command,” 2B announces.

They’ve hardly gotten any rest -- Androids don’t need sleep, after all, and they weren’t heavily damaged. Returning to camp was more of a formality.

Even so, 9S found himself groggily dragging his thoughts back to reality. “What’d they say?”

“We’re to investigate the Tower and gain any information we can. If we find hostiles, we’re to eliminate them. All nearby YoRHa units are already stationed on other missions, so we’re going in alone.”

That wasn’t true, really. 9S hadn’t gone anywhere alone since being assigned to 2B. That was the point.

Outwardly, he just nodded.

Ending A: Sudden [A]nomoly

Chapter Text

I still have nightmares. Nightmares of glowing red eyes on a familiar face. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a virus, spitefully planted from a being of hate, but no matter how many times I run my system diagnostics, they return green. Apparently there’s nothing wrong with me.

Is there really nothing wrong with me?

---

2B wasted no time in departing, once she had received her orders. She prided herself on her efficiency. Efficiency benefited YoRHa. Efficiency saved lives.

9S quickly gathered his things into his small pack, and took his rightful place at her side.

The two Androids proceeded on foot towards the tower that had appeared only hours before. Up close, it was even more obviously out of place. The stark, white walls were unnaturally smooth and uniform.

The two of them descended down into the collapsed pit, as they had done countless times since its formation.

2B felt, irrationally, that every bad and worrying event lately had stemmed from this pit. As if it were a pit leading down to hell itself, and unearthing it had unsealed something powerful, fierce, and forbidden. Seeing the tower there, looking for all the world like it sprouted out of the ground itself, did little to assuage her superstition.

Her straight back and confident stride did nothing to betray her misgivings. She kept her gaze fixed firmly in front of her, chin up, and she strode purposely towards the apparent front of the tower. All the while she kept her senses alert for any potential danger or ambush. Strangely, none came. The pit was devoid of even the usual collection of mindless, mingling machines. The absence was striking.

"It's quiet," 2B half whispered. In the stillness, her voice easily carried.

"Alert: no machine lifeforms detected within a fixed radius of the tower," Pod 042 chimed helpfully.

"That's… strange," 9S said as he looked around. He seemed as hesitant to believe this as she was. In their career, it didn’t pay to take things at face value.

Plus, her instincts were still screaming at her that something was very, very wrong.

Even so, they must continue forward. It's their mission, and the tower is no less a threat if they leave it be. Better to face it head on now, then have it bite them later.

Her feet took her to the tower's base, where she saw a shimmer in the air. Cautiously, she reached a hand forward. When her fingers reached the shimmer, she felt it was solid. "A forcefield…" she muttered. "9S, can you disable this somehow?"

She turned to her dependable Scanner. He's already leaning towards what appears to be the door, his face so close that his nose nearly touched the barrier. He had a faraway look, which 2B had come to recognize as his usual expression when he's hacking something or working out a difficult puzzle. Right now, he might be doing both.

Abruptly, he stumbled backwards. 2B didn’t fully understand the process, but it seemed that 9S experiences some kind of recoil when he fails to hack into a protected system. It's worse against especially strong machines, and judging from how dizzy he looked, she'd say protections on this tower are strong.

She wished she could say she's surprised.

Instead, she waited for 9S to collect himself. "How was it?" she asked.

9S shook his head. “The barrier is… it’s strong. There seems to be some kind of closed defense system. It’s nearly impossible to hack into from the outside.”

2B frowned. “There must be a way in.”

As if in response to her statement, the tower’s shield flickered off and on before falling altogether.

The two androids waited with bated breath for something to happen, but nothing else did. The tower’s shield was gone, but nothing else in the area had moved or reacted. It was as eerily still as before.

“Well, that was convenient,” said 9S with his usual good humor, although it seemed a bit forced.

“It’s suspicious,” 2B said what they were both thinking.

Her pod spoke up, “Report: the barrier over the tower has been disabled from the inside. Entry into the Tower should now be possible.”

2B shared a glance with 9S. From the inside? What was that supposed to mean? Was there someone else inside the tower?

It didn’t matter, she decided. This was their mission. They would just have to proceed with caution. She had 9S with her, and he was the best backup she could ask for. Whatever was in this tower, the two of them could take it.

With that resolve, she went to the door and firmly pressed it open.

---

The inside of the tower matched the outside with its white walls and floors. The sparse furnishings in the mostly empty rooms were also white. It reminded her of the Bunker, in how color seemed to be completely desaturated. Something about the materials and the lighting.

“This almost reminds me of the Bunker,” 2B let her thoughts slip.

“Really?” 9S mused, “I was going to say it looks like… like hacking space.”

2B hasn’t been into hacking space, so she couldn’t say for sure. She even needed assistance to reboot herself into a new body. It was… a bit embarrassing, for an android of her caliber.

But if 9S says so, then it must be true.

The door to the tower had opened into an empty circular room. When the door closed behind them, and no other exits presented themselves, she had worried that it was a trap after all. She’s still worried it might be a trap, of course, but the room they’d entered into had turned out to be an elevator. After it rumbled for a minute or two (it was hard to determine how fast they were going, or how far -- the ride was too smooth), the original doors opened up again into a new area.

The new area, where they now found themselves, was -- vast.

They faced a long stairwell, framed on both sides with more archways. On either side of the path was a large drop -- below, she could see nothing but fog, or perhaps a cloud-filled sky. I seemed almost as if the world had turned upside down, with the skyscape towering below them.

“We must’ve gone pretty far up,” 9S murmered from beside her.

Oh. That made more sense, actually. She faintly recalled seeing a much wider area far, far above the tower entrance, impossibly high into the sky. If they were in that area now, it would explain how large the space was.

Which would mean the clouds beneath them… were actually clouds. That would be a dangerous drop, should they lose their footing. Thankfully, they had pods to protect against accidents like that.

She took a moment to be grateful that she couldn’t get altitude sickness, like she’d heard humans suffered from. Large pressure differentials wouldn’t harm their tougher android bodies. It was a miracle humans survived on earth for as long as they did.

She pulled herself from her musings to refocus on the room in front of her. For such a massive construction, it was surprisingly... incomplete. Spotty, at some locations, as if someone had tried to make a staircase but gotten bored halfway through. It seemed at odds with the otherwise masterfully constructed archways and towering stone walls that emulated historical human building practices.

A diffuse white light permeated the area, providing sufficient illumination to see by, but with no clear source.

It was no more strange than anything else here.

After climbing up the fractured staircase, they came to a set of faux-wooden doors, which opened easily under 2B’s hands. They’d seen nothing here try to stop them, not since the exterior barrier. No enemies, no hacking gates, no nothing. It was very strange. Why leave a place like this undefended? Did it really have nothing to hide? Or were the creators so confident that they didn’t bother to set traps?

And what of the barrier outside? It was a very strong one, from what 9S said, but it dropped without any apparent cause.

It seemed, although 2B was alarmed at the idea, almost as if they were being invited in.

Invited by whom, and for what purpose? She couldn’t begin to guess. But if they kept proceeding at this pace, she probably wouldn’t have to wonder for long.

Ending B: [B]arrier to Entry

Chapter Text

To whoever’s parsing this log, you have to understand, it wasn’t his fault. It took us a while to understand that, but it wasn’t. He was just a catalyst for a series of events that were centuries in the making. He nearly killed us, but… he probably saved us, in the end.

-----

The two androids walked into the wide, rectangular room. At first glance, it appeared to be as empty and innocuous as everything else in this tower had been so far.

As 2B took a wary step forward, on the other side of the room there was a golden flash. Where previously there was nothing, a single figure had appeared on the far side of the room. Hidden by shadows, the only thing they could make out clearly was a vague humanoid shape.

“Who’s there!?” demanded 2B as she drew her signature white katana into a defensive stance.

The figure didn’t answer, but 2B’s pod did, “Unknown. Enemy analysis unavailable.”

2B kept her eyes on the figure and her arms held a ready stance as she directed her next question back to her pod. “Unavailable?”

The pod responded, “There’s a highly aggressive firewall blocking access to the entity. Any attempt to bypass the enemy’s security would risk irreversible system damage.”

2B nodded, not altogether surprised at this assessment. This wouldn’t be the first opponent she had faced without intel. She suspected that 9S would be able to disrupt the firewall if needed, but as for herself, she didn’t need to understand something to kill it. She leveled her sword at the figure, who still hadn’t moved from where it had first manifested.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” spoke 2B as she tightened her grip on her blade “Who are you? Identify yourself and surrender or on behalf of YoRHa I will use lethal force.”

A voice cut through the room, so casual that it felt out of place, at the same time the figure stepped out into the open. “What, 2B, you don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.”

2B’s voice caught in her throat, because the figure before her was the very likeness of the android at her back.

---

9S felt as if he’d just been dunked in ice water.

He feels a chill go through his whole body. His limbs feel heavy. His head feels blank and fuzzy. It’s uncanny. Eerie. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong --

The Thing that looked like 9S chuckled. It was a low, broken sound, which built into a maniacal guffaw. “Oh, 2B!! 2B, it’s so good to see you here!!” The Thing gave a wide, toothy grin. It’s eyes, uncovered by the blindfold that 9S sported, were curled upwards in apparent delight.

The thing that looked like 9S also sounded like 9S. And yet, it sounded nothing like him at all. 9S didn’t speak like that. 9S didn’t make those expressions. It was like someone had made a basic imitation, but gotten all the details wrong.

That was what it had to be. An imitation. An imposter, posing as an Android to catch them off guard.

It wasn’t even convincing. How could anyone ever mistake this Thing to be 9S? What mockery of a play was this? As expected from Machines, they couldn’t even imitate intelligent life correctly. Without empathy or complex thought, was this the best they could come up with? Was this what they saw 9S as? The thought is disturbing.

"Hey, you!" The Thing suddenly directed it's sharp gaze, which had not wavered from 2B, to look at 9S. "You don't mind if I take her, do you? We can share. You don't mind sharing, do you? You wouldn't deny me this, would you?" The Thing's voice grew louder and faster as it spoke, its grin equal parts manic and lecherous.

9S's stomach turned at what this Thing, which was wearing his face, was saying. Having presumptions towards 2B, treating her like an object to be taken, was repulsive.

And worse, it was saying this right in front of 2B. It was embarrassing. It was shameful.

This Thing wasn't him, but it wore his face and spoke in his voice and he couldn't stand it, couldn't stand for 2B to see him that way.

Yet he was also terrified, deep to his bones. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor, and his throat felt too dry for speech. Despite this, he managed to choke out a reply, "Hell no! What are you even talking about? Like hell a machine like you could have her!"

The Thing tilted its head, and if possible its grin got even wider. "A machine? Is that what you think I am?" The Thing looked down at its hands (one of which, 9S just noticed, was shaped like 2B's, and oh my god what the fuck??) "I suppose I might read that way on your sensors. Not that there's much difference between YoRHa and Machines anyway, at heart." It placed its hand over where its core would be, and cracked a wry grin, as if appreciating an inside joke.

"Are you implying you're YoRHa?" 2B interrogated from beside him.

That's right. 2B is here. He's not alone. The reminder centers something in him that had gone precariously off balance.

"Well, no," the Thing replied, still wearing the cocky, unhinged grin that looked so out of place on his face, "not any more."

At this, the Thing directs its gaze to 9S, meeting his eyes, and the Thing’s eyes flash a brilliant red.

"But I used to be. After all, I am you," says the Thing that is definitely not 9S.

---

The words rang out in the chamber. 2B could feel moreso than see 9S flinch behind her in response, unable to rally a response.

She looks the imposter straight in the eyes. “You’re insane,” she grinds out.

"Ahaha, I might've gotten a bit overexcited there. I've just missed you so much, 2B." He offered her a puppy-like grin. In contrast to his earlier behavior, this expression was almost painfully familiar.

2B stands warily, and raises her sword a few more inches into a defensive position.

Seeing this, the machine pouts.

"I admit I'm gone through a few… changes," he says almost sheepishly, "but c'mon 2B, am I really that unrecognizable?"

The statement might have held more weight if his eyes weren't glowing red.

“It’s okay, 2B, I understand,” the Machine grins, “I don’t blame you. I understand that you have to kill me. I’ve always understood. It’s fine. As long as I can be by your side, I don’t mind however many times you have to kill me. Here, go ahead, put your hands on my neck again.” At this, he tilts his chin upwards in a sign of vulnerability, exposing his pale neck.

His uncovered eyes held an expression of utter rapture. It’s madness.

"Ah, I may not die properly anymore, though," he muses with a familiar furrowed brow, "I'm connected to the network after all. So even if you kill this corpse or destroy my core, I'll probably survive." He sounded almost mournful as he pronounced this. His expression was apologetic. "So I guess that puts a damper on that plan. You can still do so if you like, though?" He shot her a hopeful expression at this.

"You said ’core’. So you are a machine." She'd suspected, but it's good to have confirmation.

"Core, black box, what's the difference? None, apparently. Isn't that funny? We were the same in the end. Completely the same! Isn't that hilarious??" the Machine's words grew increasingly maniacal until at last he burst out into uncontrollable guffaws.

He sounds… almost miserable.

2B has seen 9S in pain on so, so many occasions. More than she’d like to admit. And she can see it, underneath the veneer of madness, She sees her friend trying to bury his pain with wry humor, and she wonders if it’s possible for a machine to imitate his traits so precisely.

Or, is it possible that somehow the enemy had made an actual copy of 9S? She had been so careful to destroy any remains of 9S every time his body was destroyed, she’d made sure to not leave anything behind, but what if she’d made a mistake? What if she’d missed some crucial part that had fallen into enemy hands?

If so, then the machine in front of her was her responsibility. No, the moment that he appeared wearing 9S’s face he was already her responsibility.

2B narrows her eyes. "What are you?" 2B barked forcibly.

"I mean," the machine replied with a familiar grin on a familiar face. The words a hollow echo of what she'd heard earlier today, "I'd like for you to call me 'Nines'."

Her artificial blood ran cold.

"You're. Not. Him!!" She charged forward, weapon in hand, and swung at the imposter--

2B’s weapon swung harmlessly through the air, unable to make contact.

“What,” growled 2B.

“2B!” 9S cried urgently, “It’s forging a YoRHa energy signature. Your identification chip is reading it as a friendly unit.”

2B jumped back away from the imposter, who hadn’t moved an inch during the whole exchange. Her lips folded into a scowl as she assessed the situation.

“It seems like you might need some time to process all this,” the fake 9S piped up, his calm voice indiscernible from 9S’s own, “I have a few things I need to take care of myself, so how about I give you two some space for now, hm?”

"We're going to stop you," 2B said firmly, her voice as unyielding as steel.

The imposter looks on with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I would like that very much.” And with that, he vanishes in a golden glow.

Ending C: [C]lose Encounters

Chapter Text

We were so stupid back then. We didn’t know anything -- no, it’s worse. We knew so much but didn’t act on it. We played dumb and kept silent. If we had learned the truth in another way, would we have done anything? Or would we have marched to the beat like the good little soldiers we are? I don’t know. I try not to think about it.

---

No one spoke for a few moments following the enemy’s sudden departure, but the silence spoke volumes.

Finally, 2B broke the quiet. “We should get going.” She started walking with steady steps further into the chamber, towards a door on the far side.

“R-right,” responded 9S. He stood in a daze for another moment until the words fully registered, and he blinked back into focus. He hastily jogged to catch up with 2B, who was already halfway across the room.

The door was unlocked, like the other rooms in the tower had been. It opened up into another long staircase. The androids deftly jumped across the gaps in the staircase, and it wasn’t long at all until they reached another door. Wary now, but resolved, 2B pushed open the door.

The new room was… full, was the best way to describe it. There were twin staircases leading up to a mezzanine level, which was framed by a short railing. On the ceiling hung a number of intricate fixtures holding what looked to be candles. None of the previous areas had any furnishings to speak of, so the contrast was striking.

“What is this place?” spoke 9S in wonder, as he filtered into the room behind 2B.

“Hypothesis: It is a representation of a Library, a data storage facility used by past human civilizations,” 2B’s pod reported.

“I’ve read about those!” 9S spoke excitedly, “Humans documented information by writing it on paper made of crushed, flattened tree pulp. They would collect these sheets of paper into a book, and those books would be further collected into a library! The books are sort of like files, and the library is a server which hosts those files.”

“I see…” 2B responded. She walked over to a wall which was covered in what she supposed were the books he mentioned to get a closer look. She grabbed one, seemingly at random, and flipped through it. “But these don’t look to be made of paper. They seem to be made of the same white material as the rest of the tower. And look, the pages are blank.”

9S peered over her shoulder. “You’re right. But…” his brow furrowed, “but they are files.”

“What?” 2B looked at 9S in surprise.

9S met her gaze. “That book you’re touching, it looks like it has a data file in it. I could try accessing it.”

2B nodded and handed him the book. 9S took a deep breath, braced himself, and dived --

****

>  -  - -   - -  - o

****

It was only mere moments before he snapped back to himself. He looked to 2B, who was waiting expectantly, although 9S thought he saw a hint of worry in her demeanor.

“What did you find?”

“It’s…” he took a moment to review the file he’d managed to salvage. “It’s an index. Of other items in the Library.”

“I see. That’s useful, if it proves accurate. We can use that to locate other files to extract. Our mission is to gather information, as you recall.”

9S hesitated a moment, as if he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Was there something else?” probed 2B.

“No,” denied 9S, “it’s just… the security system was way too low, practically non-existent. I was able to access those files without any resistance. And I saw the lock on the tower entrance, they should be capable of a much stronger data barrier.”

“You think they wanted us to find this,” stated 2B, cutting to the heart of the matter.

“I don’t know. Yes. Don’t you?” 9S ran his gloved hand nervously through his hair. “Whatever is operating this tower isn’t friendly, and it clearly knows we’re here. And yet it let us through, into this data server room. It doesn’t sit right with me.”

2B hummed thoughtfully. She took another look around the room, the so-called “library”. Assess the situation. Eliminate threats. That was her field of expertise. All of this data processing was work for a Scanner, or for the heads back at the bunker.

“9S, can you use that index to locate the critical data? And upload it all at once? I’d rather not linger here longer than necessary, and we need to report the new threat to YoRHa as soon as possible.”

Now it was 9S’s turn to look thoughtful. “Hm. Ordinarily hacking into multiple data points simultaneously like that wouldn’t be feasible, but the security here is so basic. I might be able to spin up multiple processes to access the necessary servers in parallel. For an ordinary unit it might be impossible, but… yes. I could do it.”

2B didn’t understand half of what 9S just said, but it didn’t matter. 9S said he could do it, and 2B believed him.

9S continued, “I don’t have access to the YoRHa network. Something about this tower seems to interfere with the signal. But I’ll upload it to our shared drive, and we can transfer it to the bunker when we sync later.”

“Then do it.”

Not needing any more signal, 9S carefully extended his consciousness. It was a careful procedure, and not one he’d had a chance to test out on the field before. He allocated fragments of his consciousness for each of the data sources listed in the index. There was a disorienting moment as he became them, and suddenly he was only one of a dozen distinct fragments of himself, each of which was having thoughts of its own.

There was a clamorous noise of competing thoughts until the original fragment, which was designated as the “master” fragment, asserted dominance and regained order. It (he?) distributed a destination to each “slave” fragment in turn, as well as a basic instruction to fetch the data, upload it, and then re-integrate.

Therein lay the danger of this operation. If he were interrupted during this process, or if one of his fragments were to be damaged during the hack, it might not be able to reintegrate. He could probably manage to reproduce the missing part via a self-repair cycle, or failing that, by accessing his backup in the bunker. But he’d rather avoid it altogether. Walking around without a critical part of his mind was not his idea of a good time.

Thankfully, there were no such problems. As he waited, each fragment completed its task, uploaded its findings, and integrated itself until it was him again, and he felt himself becoming more aware, more whole, with each fragment that returned. A few fragments failed to hack into the data and had to be deployed again for a second attempt, but it wasn’t long before the final piece clicked back into place and he was himself.

“That… was wild,” was the first thing 9S said once he was sure he was 9S again. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work. I mean, I’ve run through the idea in theory and it worked in my simulations, but to actually fragment my own consciousness, and to experience the same moment from multiple perspectives, and then to restore myself to a single entity again -- what a rush! It’s nothing like I had imagined!”

“9S,” came 2B’s voice from his side, sounding oddly subdued.

“What?”

“9S, have you looked at these files?” Her voice was flat, and had something unreadable to it.

Right, of course. The files he had uploaded. He hadn’t had a chance to view them, as performing the multithreaded hacking operation had required all of his considerable attention, but they should be all available in his databanks if he just looked --

>>>>

019 port 056776 Human Server Records
        Class 1 Patient: "Yonah"
                The patient's condition makes further treatment impossible... courses of action in the event of the patient's death...

022 port 062423 Tower System Summary
        Tower System Outline
                The tower facility processes and computerizes resources sent by resource-recovery units for use in its launch device. Made up of...

[Top Secret] Model No.2 - Nier Automata
        [Project 08-01: Operation of Model No.2 in the YoRHa Project]
                After the first descent of the YoRHa prototypes, Attacker 2 (A2) was the sole unit to return alive... she possesses excellent analytical and decision-making skills… we will install this personality data in the new lot of E models...

[Top Secret] YoRHa Disposal - Nier Automata
        [Project 0 3-0 1 : Disposal of YoRHa]

(Note that this information is classified as Level-SS, meaning that it must not be disclosed to anyone involved in the YoRHa project, including the Commander of the Bunker.)

The backdoor of the Bunker has been set to open once the time approaches to switch to new models when enough combat data has been collected. The Bunker will be disposed of by having it be deliberately attacked by machines. At this time, all materials regarding the YoRHa project, including this document, will be lost, and falsification of the information that mankind still resides on the moon will be complete.

*bzzt*

(Note that this information is classified as Level-SS, meaning that it must not be disclosed to anyone involved in the YoRHa project, including the Commander of the Bunker.)

The Bunker will be disposed of...

*bzzt*

(Note that this information is classified as Level-SS, meaning that it must not be disclosed to anyone involved in the YoRHa project, including the Commander of the Bunker.)

>>>>

The information came in as a rush. As a model designed for efficient enemy analysis, his data processing chip automatically preprocessed the text and highlighted details that its algorithms identified as important. He parsed the entire data set in under a second, but then he goes back to read it again because he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

This is... information from the Council of Humanity? From the moon base? What? How?

The destruction of the bunker? The destruction of YoRHa? Everyone on the base, the Commander, Operator 21O, the destruction of everyone he knew?

9S recoiled, his mind rejecting the information even as his systems continued to parse it. If even a fraction of what was written in these logs was true… if that were the case, they were all…

They were dead 'droids walking.

What could they do, what could they do… he didn’t know. This was too much to process. He couldn’t even begin to speculate what the ramifications were for something this huge. He shouldn’t be considering it all, the data was probably fabricated. It was placed there as a trap, what else could it be?

But telling himself not to think about it seemed to have the opposite effect. His mind was racing, considering the possibilities. What if? What if, hypothetically, the documents here were true? What would that mean for him, for YoRHa?

… It would mean the operation was compromised. The years-long, top secret operation was compromised, because of a leak in data. A leak in data to the absolute worst people to find out about it, the YoRHa units themselves. If anyone from the operation found out about this…

It wouldn’t even be a hard choice. YoRHa units were expendable. Even before reading these files, he knew that to be the case. How many units had lost their lives in battle? He’d seen who knows how many missions to hunt down “YoRHa defectors” -- and wasn’t it odd how often those units had to be destroyed for resisting? How they never seemed to be detained successfully? He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now…

What would stop them from being marked as “betrayers”, if the Council knew what they found out. What would the higher ups do to stop this leak from getting any further.

It was all too easy to imagine.

They didn’t have a choice. They couldn’t let this information end with them, even if it’s fabricated, it’s simply too important to risk. They have to find a way to get this information back to YoRHa. But… they can’t.

They can’t go back to YoRHa.

They can’t go back to YoRHa.

Not as things stand. Not when the absolute best case scenario would be detention and a memory reset. They… they can’t go back.

Oh god. Oh god. He can’t breathe. Does he need to breathe? He didn’t think so, but then why does he feel so light headed? Oh god. Oh god. He’s panicking. He’s having some kind of panic attack, he thinks.

A few red alert messages pop up helpfully in front of his vision to let him know that his vitals seem abnormal. HA. Thanks for that. He would never have guessed. He closes the useless popups. He focuses on breathing. In… Out… He’s okay. He’s fine. This is fine.

(This is the absolute farthest thing from fine he can think of.)

There’s a shift in motion beside him, and all of a sudden 9S remembers he’s not alone. 2B is right beside him. She has access to all the same data files he’d just uncovered. She was reading them too. She knows.

9S looked up at 2B. It helped a bit, to have something external to focus on. He knew what he thought, but what would she think? What he was considering would amount to treason. And 2B… she was committed to her job, a professional through and through.

He had no illusions about how quickly and effortlessly she could kill him, if she wanted to. If she were ordered to. Going back to YoRHa would risk memory deletion, but if he didn’t… if he ran away now…

It would amount to the same thing. If 2B informed command, they would have a hit order placed on him instantly. And then he’d be at the other end of her sword, and that would break him, in more ways than one.

It was very, very important what 2B thought of all this.

9S wondered if it was a bit embarrassing, how often he found his life in 2B’s hands. Usually, he didn’t mind. Right now, he just felt sick.

Ending D: [D]angerous Knowledge

Chapter Text

The air in the Library felt inexplicably heavier, with the weight of the information they had accessed there. The two androids remained fixed in their poses, neither looking at the other as they took in their recent discovery.

Top secret Level-SS classified information. The Council of Humanity. The disposal of YoRHa.

The quiet seemed to close in on them, making the circling thoughts that much more loud. But neither android seemed able to breach the silence. What was there to say? There aren’t words for something like this.

Finally 9S couldn’t stand it.

“2B--”

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as suddenly, they heard a faint sound from behind them. They turned on their heels to face… it. The fake 9S.

Both androids immediately jumped backwards and drew their swords.

“Ah, what a cold welcome,” not-9S said. “Did you find anything… interesting? In this library? It’s all true, I can assure you.” The Thing wore a knowing smile on his (not his) face.

9S felt rage pooling up inside of him again, hot and fierce, “You! You planted this didn’t you? You planted this here for us to find, that’s why you let us go earlier!” He thinks he might be choking up a little, and he’s grateful that his blindfold hides his eyes so no one else can see the tears threatening to form. It’s easier to be angry than to keep feeling afraid, betrayed, and hurt.

Not-9S glaced towards 9S, with a hint of disdain in its eyes, “That would make sense, wouldn’t it? Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for the careful curation of this library. I just... appropriated it, from the original creators.”

2B spoke out, voice clear and commanding, “What are you planning to do?”

“Do? That’s a very good question. It depends, I guess. What are you planning to do?” The question was very much directed at 2B. The Thing didn’t offer 9S so much as a passing glance.

(9S would very much like to know that answer to that himself, although it sickens him to think that he has any common thoughts with the Thing before him)

2B pursed her lips, but didn’t respond. Instead she barked, “How did you get this information?”

As 2B tensed up further, the Fake (not-9S-doesn’t-even-look-like-9S-monster) seemed only to relax more.

“Who knows. That was before my time. I figure the machines were keeping watch on the Moon Base communications for a long time, waiting to discover a weakness in the Moon Base server -- a small moment of vulnerability is all they would need. And once they had a way in, they just copied all the information they could find.”

The Fake looked around the Library critically, “It was shoddy work -- some of these files are basically useless, but others,” it grinned at this, “others are quite damning. Don’t you think?” It offered a long, knowing look at both androids. For a second, 9S can’t move under the pressure of its gaze and the choking certainly that it knows that they know oh god.

“But!” continued the Fake, breaking the tension of the moment, “Like I said, that’s all speculation. The original creators of this Library are long gone, and good riddance. The less said about them, the better.”

A thoughtful expression crossed its face (wrong wrong wrong) as it added, “Oh, but if you’re asking how I came to be in possession of it... well, after the previous owners were gone, there was something of a power vacuum. And I decided to fill it,” it stated matter-of-factly.

Maybe because 2B was feeling emboldened after the Thing answered her questions, or maybe it’s just that she’s 2B and is somehow actually unfazed by all this, but she kept her voice and expression level as she asked another question. “Who, exactly, are you? Where did you come from.” Narrowing her eyes, she added, “Are you collaborating with those humanoid machines?”

And it struck 9S all of a sudden how obvious it was. Of course. The glowing red eyes, the appearing out of nowhere. He’d seen it all before, in that chamber where they fought the machine lifeforms. It’s so obvious he feels embarrassed he didn’t make the connection sooner.

It’s one of the humanoid machines.

They already know that the machines can create a humanoid body out of essentially scrap, what’s stopping them from making one in the form of a YoRHa unit? And one that they’d fought before?

It all clicked into place, and 9S felt something ease inside of him as he realized that this Thing, this Fake, was just that -- a shoddily made facsimile, constructed by a bunch of unintelligent machines who only know how to imitate the behaviors of others.

Meanwhile, the Fake (machine-imitation) was still facing 2B, who was waiting for the answer to her question. “Who?” it asked, seeming genuinely confused for a moment, before it’s expression cleared in recognition. “Oh, what, Adam and Eve? I’d like it if you didn’t compare me to them,” it crinkled its noise in disdain. “I guess they were pretty advanced, for machine tech, but still far behind the YoRHa models. Their strength lied in their connection to the network.”

It pauses for a moment, seeming to consider its own words. “I suppose by that reasoning, you’re not too far off.” it says with a cheeky grin.

9S took in every motion of the too-wrong face (he doesn’t look like that, his expressions aren’t so perverse, he’s almost insulted that this is the best facsimile the machines could make, this is how they see him) as the Fake seemed to think something over.

“Sure,” it said at last, “let’s go with that. You asked who I am, right? There’s plenty of YoRHa units Type S, and 9 is just a number. You can call me... Cain.”

(Does the machine think it’s really 9S? Then it’s delusional as well. It’s almost pitiful.)

Heedless of 9S’s thoughts, the Fake -- Cain, he supposed -- repeats its chosen moniker a few times, seemingly getting a taste for it. “Yes,” said Cain, “I like it. It’s a name all my own, so that will be less confusing for the two of you, right? And, well, it does kind of fit.”

“Cain,” 2B called, “you didn’t answer my question. Are you working with the humanoid machines? What are your intentions?” Her tone was relaxed and measured, coaxing even. The only sign of tension was her sword, which she’s gripped firmly in a Battle-ready stance.

“Cain,” it repeated, “I really like the way it sounds when you say it.” For what might be the first time, a smile -- a truly genuine smile -- lit up its face. “I’m glad... that I came here. I’m glad I got to see you again. After all this time.”

“And I’m sorry,” it continued softly, “but I think it’s best we end it here for now. I really do have a lot to do. Until next time.”

Cain’s figure seemed to blur slightly, and that’s all the warning 9S had before he felt a sharp pain in his head, felt the world jerk underneath him, and finally, as his consciousness shut down, he mercifully felt nothing at all.

Ending E: Know Thy [E]nemy

Chapter Text

2B had lost her sense of loyalty a long time ago.

She was tired of this goddamn war. She was tired of fighting over and over again against an enemy that never got any weaker, for a people she had never met -- a people she often doubted even existed.

“For the Glory of Mankind.”

Every time she said it, it sounded a bit more hollow to her ears. She felt like a walking corpse, someone who was going through the motions for lack of anything else to do. Someone who used to have feelings, to have faith, but who’s heart could no longer generate them. She felt like a machine.

She didn’t understand how no one else had noticed. She kept expecting someone else to call her out on it, for being a fraud. For being a hypocrite. She expected someone to notice.

No one had. Or at least, no one had cared enough to confront her about it.

Maybe they were all fake too. Maybe everyone in the Bunker was an empty machine too, and their souls had all vanished somewhere without anyone noticing. She doesn’t know if this would be a comfort or not.

9S is… a breath of fresh air. He’s naive, and friendly, and carelessly flirtatious. He seems to really believe in everything that YoRHa stands for. He believes that the machines are mindless (a claim she’s been doubting in light of recent evidence) and that their war is just (something she’s doubted for much, much longer). It’s a bit foolish, she thinks, but it’s also warm and fresh and real. Real in a way that nothing has been for far too long.

She finds herself doing silly things, just so he’ll comment on it. She starts taking more gofer jobs, during their deployments to earth. They’re simple things that someone else could easily do, but it gives her an excuse to linger. And the longer they stay on earth, the more 9S talks to fill the space.

She really likes his voice.

He complains about the tasks, but that doesn’t stop him from doing exceptional work. She tries to explain it to him, that these things are meaningful. They’re delivering important items that might save some android’s life. They’re helping people, in a way they can’t do by shooting down enemies on the battlefield.

She doesn’t think he gets it, but that’s okay. She’ll keep trying. The more she tries, the more she herself starts to believe it. She starts to think she can feel again.

That makes it worth it.

And she smiles, every time 9S grumbles about the work, or an exceptionally obnoxious machine (it’s odd, how they seem to have personalities now. She doesn’t remember that happening before. It’s probably important). She tries not to let that smile show, every time 9S tries to get closer to her, introducing nicknames and such (she wonders what her nickname would be? What would people call her for short? Maybe she would ask 9S sometime…). She tries to hide the smile under a veneer of cold aloofness because it’s dangerous to be close to 9S. It’s dangerous to care.

She cares so, so much. She didn’t realize she was able to care about someone this much, before it hit her like a flood and now she’s drowning.

She thinks there’s probably no hope for her at this point. 9S is a disease that has infected her circuits and her memories and heart. 9S might be the only cure.

She’ll kill for him. She’ll die for him. He’s the only spot of color in her world of desaturated gray, and she can’t lose him, she can’t. She finally found something she can protect, something she can believe in.

She’s drowning in his light, and she doesn’t want to be saved.

---

Consciousness returned in bits and pieces. Her processes spun up, running diagnostic checks. Her status terminal filled with warning messages as her system protested that it was shut down incorrectly, and improper shutdown could lead to memory corruption. She internally silenced the warnings because yes, she’d shut down incorrectly and no, she was not planning on doing so again.

She was... hacked, she thinks. She’s not very familiar with being the victim of malicious hacking (9S was always careful when he hacked her system for diagnostics -- she couldn’t feel a thing outside of his reassuring presence) but it didn’t take a Scanner to guess what that was. Her system had shut down, completely, without Cain laying a finger on her.

Cain... 9S... she supposed that if Cain was anything like her 9S, it’s not surprising for him to have that level of hacking ability. Alarming, certainly, but expected. She’d have to ask 9S to create a stronger barrier before facing him again, a barrier so strong that even he can’t break it.

Because, if her suspicions were correct, then Cain might really be...

Her musings were interrupted by a loud metallic clank. She looked behind her to see that 9S had... kicked a door. And was now holding his foot in pain.

How cute.

“Stupid friggen door, open up already! I know you’re listening up there! Let us back in you faker!” 9S was standing in front of the entrance to the tower, shouting angrily up at the sky, where the top of the tower was hidden by a layer of clouds.

They’re outside the tower. Cain had apparently knocked them out and then carted their unconscious bodies outside the tower. Which, judging by 9S’s ineffectual struggles, was locked behind them.

That’s... not bad, actually. They’re safe. They’ve escaped the enemy-controlled territory. And (she briefly checked over her internal data storage, which appears unharmed) they’ve even retrieved the critical mission intel.

She could work with this.

Carefully, mindful not to move too suddenly, she rose to her feet (more and more system checks return green -- her body appears undamaged, and her nerve circuitry is fully functional).

She walked over to where 9S was now leaning his head against the tower door, occasionally banging his fist against it weakly. Her stance was, as always, confident, even as her system diagnostics continued to scan for backdoors, malware, and any other number of viruses that the enemy could have planted while she was unconscious. Just because she feels unharmed doesn’t mean she is.

But that’s not her problem right now. If she is compromised, she will find someone to fix it. Most likely 9S, unless he, too, is compromised.

“9S. Are you alright?”

9S jerked from his slouched position on the door, and spun around, almost tripping over his legs as he did so. It seemed that while he communed with the door, he didn’t notice her approach and she’d taken him by surprise.

She really needed to coach him on his awareness. An enemy could easily ambush him while he’s in such a state if she wasn’t there to defend him. But -- she took in her surroundings -- it seemed this area was as devoid of machines as it was when they first approached it earlier today.

“2B. You’re awake.” There’s something in his tone which is paradoxically both relieved and alarmed. She noticed that 9S now has his back firmly planted against the tower, like he’s using it to protect himself (a decent instinct, although a questionable choice of support. There’s nothing in that tower that she’d trust to have her back).

She nodded in affirmation of his statement, and looked at the tower door (which incidentally involved looking at 9S, given how he’d positioned itself). “It’s locked again?” she asked.

“What? Uh, yes. It’s locked. The defensive barrier is back in place. Closed defense system. It’s not violent, but it’s not budging either,” he sent a fierce scowl at the door behind him as if it had personally offended him, which in a way, it had.

“So we won’t be getting inside anytime soon. Not unless he wants us too,” she concluded. “Come one, let’s go,” she turned on her heel, trusting 9S to follow.

“Go? Go where?” 9S called after her. After only a moment, she heard his hasty steps as he ran to catch up and started keeping pace at her side.

“Back to the Resistance Camp. We need to restock and regroup. And maybe someone there can run a more objective diagnostic, in case our self-diagnostic systems were compromised.”

“To the... 2B, wait!”

2B turned to look at 9S, who appeared out of breath behind her. Maybe she should have slowed down -- she’d confirmed that her body seems to be functioning correctly, but she hadn’t confirmed the same of 9S. Maybe he was damaged by Cain, either during the hacking or the eviction from the tower. He never did answer her question about if he was alright.

“Just, just wait a moment, please?” 9S asked, and he sounded so tired that she couldn’t find it in her to insist that no, they should go on, it’s not safe here.

Instead, by unspoken consent, they both took a seat. By this point, they’d made it out of the hole and were back in the grassy area of the surface. There were still machines around, but they were small and largely non-hostile. It was as safe a place to take a break as any.

2B said nothing, content to let 9S catch his breath and do his own diagnostics. She kept half an eye out for any potential threats, but aside from a single moose, the grassy plain is vacant.

A few minutes pass where neither of them speak. Finally, 9S broke the silence.

“2B... how can you be so calm right now?” 9S asked plaintively.

How? That’s because... “Being upset won’t benefit the mission,” 2B responded.

“How can you talk about the mission at a time like this! Like everything’s okay, like nothing’s changed,” his voice cracked as he said this. 9S... is emotional. She knows this about him, and considers it to be in many ways an asset. But it isn’t doing him any favors right now.

Maybe that’s why he was out of breath. Maybe he’s not damaged, he’s just... hurting in other ways.

She never wanted him to have to see something like Cain. He never should have had to.

But he also had a point. “You’re right. Things have changed,” she frowned -- she’d been putting off thinking about the implications of the intel they’d gathered, focused first on obtaining the essentials: finding safety, repairing damages. That was short-sighted, she needed to think about the long game here. “Have you contacted the Bunker yet?”

He seemed taken aback by the sudden topic shift, and then looked guilty. “No, I -- no. I haven’t.”

“Good. Don’t.”

“W-what?”

“We don’t know what that man did while we were unconscious. We’d best avoid syncing to the Bunker just yet, or we risk introducing a trojan horse into the Bunker servers.”

“Oh. That’s what you meant. Of course.” 9S sounded a bit gloomy as he returned to looking at his shoes.

She let him inspect his shoes a while longer, before asking, “Are you ready to go? The camp isn’t far from here. Or is there something else you wanted to discuss.”

“No... nothing else.” He offered one last look at his shoes before pushing himself off the ground and brushing the dust off his clothes. “We can go.”

And with that, 9S joined 2B in the short walk back to Resistance Camp.

Ending F: A[F]termath and Reprieve

Chapter Text

“What do we do now?” asked 9S.

It felt like a lie as he said it. He’s pretending things are normal, that there still is a “we”, as if pretending will somehow make the events of the past day go away. Like maybe if he acted normal, 2B would act normal too.

(It won’t work, he knows, 2B is too rational and level-headed to fall for such a petty distraction).

But it’s all he has -- this cheerful front is all that’s protecting him from everything they’ve just learned, from the consequences thereof. Maybe if he can keep acting like nothings wrong, like this hasn't changed everything, he can buy himself a little more time to come up with a plan.

If he had more time, he could review and analyze everything that the machine-facsimile said, and cross reference it with the data he’d gathered in the library. He has it all recorded in his memory banks, and he’s sure that he could piece everything together if he looks it over in detail. The machine was clearly insane and deluded, but he clearly knew more about that tower and library than they did. And it talked a lot -- wouldn’t shut up, is more like it. Surely there were hints and fragments of truths in all that nonsense. Maybe if 9S could piece them together he could make a plan, find a way out of this. That’s what he does best: processing and analyzing information, but to do that he needs more time and he can’t think right now with all his panic processes running nonstop like this --

But, if he waits too long, they’ll take him and wipe his memories. Or kill him outright. And then he won’t have the chance at all.

So he’s waiting. Which was a stupid plan, except that for some reason, 2B doesn’t want them to connect to the Bunker yet (even though they’re finally free of the disruption the Tower caused, and could definitely get a strong connection to the Bunker from here). Which meant he still had time. Of course, it also meant that they don’t have any backups of their data, which meant that if they were killed (or otherwise silenced) that the information would die with them.

So now they’re in the Resistance camp, twiddling their thumbs until either he comes up with a plan or 2B becomes adequately convinced that they’re not a threat to the bunker servers. He came up with absolutely no ideas so far while 2B’s been inquiring with the Maintenance Shop owner, so he didn’t like his odds.

“He says there’s no one here who can perform a complex diagnostic like that. They said there’s a pair of androids who might be qualified, but they’re out right now. So either we go search for them, or we wait for them to come here.” 2B seemed frustrated at the thought of waiting, but this was theoretically good news for 9S. It gave him more time.

Time to do what, he’s not exactly sure, but he’ll figure it out.

She continued, “Ideally, you could perform the diagnostics yourself, but...”

But she doesn’t trust him right now. Not to do his assigned job of performing her maintenance. He doesn’t blame her, but he’s still bitter that he has to deal with this level of distrust thanks to that machine who decided to steal his face. No, it hurts, but he doesn’t blame her.

He’s not sure if he trusts himself fully, right now.

“It’s fine,” 9S said, “I get it.” He pasted on a smile, and asked, “So, where are these androids at?”

2B gave him a long look. 9S hoped his smile wasn’t coming off too stiff.

Finally, she answered, “They’ve apparently been sent to the Machine Village on some sort of diplomacy mission. We probably just missed them when we were there the other day.”

“That’s not far at all,” 9S observed.

“No,” agreed 2B. “But we will need to walk there. We can’t use the Access Points, with things as they are.”

Oh. Yeah. 9S hadn’t thought of that -- if they aren’t syncing to the YoRHa servers, then they can’t simply transmit their consciousness from one Access Point to another, like they’re accustomed to.

“Well, we unblocked that shortcut in the city ruins, right? So we can go straight there.”

2B nodded. “Right. Let’s restock, and then depart.”

As usual, 2B didn’t wait for his reply before she turned on her heels and advanced towards one of the Resistance traders with long strides. 2B hung back while she haggled, too lost in the swarm of his thoughts to pay attention. It felt like no time at all before they were both walking away from the Resistance Camp, cutting through a handful of unfortunate machines as they made a beeline for the Machine Village.

---

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you’ve just missed them!” Pascal chimed apologetically.

And to 9S’s chagrin, he did sound sorry. It grates a bit how utterly sincere the machine sounds. If he were in a better mood, he’d find Pascal’s machine community and their apparent fixation on peace a fascinating topic of study -- but right now their friendly veneer was just irritating.

“Do you know which way they went?” asked 2B, “We’re in a hurry.”

“Well, they were attending to some of the children, and one of them mentioned some machines in the Forest were acting oddly. It’s probably nothing, of course. Children can have such active imaginations! But one of the Twins offered to investigate.” Pascal waved his hands around guiltily, “I tried to decline, but she was very insistent.”

9S cut in, “So that’s where they are now? The Forest?”

“Well,” hedged Pascal, “I would assume so. Yes.”

“Thank you,” said 2B diplomatically, “you’ve been very helpful.”

And with that, she turned and walked away.

9S jogged a bit to keep pace with her. “So that’s it? We’re going to the Forest now?”

“What choice do we have? If that’s where the Twins are, then that’s where we’re going.”

“Yeah,” 9S said begrudgingly, “if we can take that weird machine at his word.”

“Pascal has no reason to lie to us,” chided 2B.

“Who ever said machines were reasonable,” grumbled 9S. But he doesn’t object further as they begin the long trek to the forest area.

Ending G: Into the [G]reen

Chapter Text

The two androids fell into a familiar rhythm as they dashed across the city ruins and into the commercial district. As they traversed the wooden bridge, 2B half-faltered as she was struck with a sense of deja vu.

It was here. They’d been in this exact location, the moment the Tower had appeared a day ago. Was it only yesterday? It felt longer. A sense of unease crawled along her skin, and she forcibly shook away the thought.

It wasn’t important. She knew that logically, there wasn’t anything special about this location. So it didn’t matter.

They made quick work of the machines in front of the building -- large and tough, but stupid. 9S disabled a few with his hacking, and 2B sliced through the remainder. She felt her body loosening up as she cut another machine in half, taking comfort in the practiced movements. By the time they’d dispatched all the enemies, 2B’s core was humming and pleasantly warm from the exercise.

As they entered the building, 9S looked around appreciatively. She followed his gaze to the worn-down walls, but couldn’t see anything noteworthy. It looked largely the same as the other ruins outside.

9S looked at her eagerly, “2B do you know what this is?” 2B shook her head. She didn’t know. “It’s a shopping mall! Human’s would come here to buy goods. But not just that, it also had significant social implications as a gathering area, and was often used for recreation…”

2B nodded along as he went into a long explanation of the nuances of shopping in human culture. She offered commentary and retorts in the appropriate places as 9S continued talking about food courts, and arcades, and dates.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture it from 9S’s description: Human’s walking about in great numbers. Rows and rows of shirts in different styles and colors. The smell of cheap and delicious food.

… No good. She couldn’t picture it at all. She simply lacked the data to render such a model.

“Don’t you think, 2B? … 2B?” 9S was looking at her now.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, I… nevermind. I’ve gotten us really off-topic, huh? We should probably keep going.”

2B watched 9S for a moment longer, as he played with his hands self-consciously. She felt like she said something wrong, somehow, but she’s not sure what.

“Right,” she agreed.

After a brief pause, 9S piped up again, “It’s interesting that we haven’t been attacked here. This complex seems like prime territory for machines to gather.”

2B looked around. “It seems like there was a scuffle before we got here. And see? There was some kind of explosion over there.” She pointed to an area at the far corner of the complex, which was covered by a rusty metal gate. A large hole was blown through the gate, leaving more than enough room for a humanoid to pass through.

“Huh. Do you suppose it was the Twins?” 9S offered.

“Maybe,” she hedged. “It’s likely that they came this way, at least.”

“Hm.” 9S looked thoughtfully at the wreckage as they walked through the destroyed gate. “Were they combat models?"

“Not that I heard. But you aren’t a combat model either, and you can hold your own.” She offered 9S a slight smile. He appeared surprised for a moment, and then hastily looked away.

… Did she offend him somehow? She meant it as a compliment.

Neither spoke for a while, and she quickly put it out of her mind. They proceeded in silence towards the lush, open forest.

---

“Who the hell is the ‘Forest King’?” 9S asked rhetorically as another wave of machines descended.

“Focus,” chided 2B as 9S only barely dodged a slash aimed at his torso.

They had barely set foot into the main forested area before a wave of sword-wielding machines descended on their position. The machines here were considerably tougher than the ones in the city ruins, and much better coordinated. 2B had her hands full with deflecting and dodging the incoming attacks.

She saw an opening and directed a stab at a nearby soldier. It crumbled instantly. She then had to hastily dodge as three of its comrades used the opportunity to slash at her. She retaliated by moving behind one of them and bisecting its torso. In this fashion, she managed to whittle their numbers down little by little.

Belatedly, she realized that she’d gotten separated from 9S in all the hubbub. Just as she was thinking this, she heard a machine scream from the other side of the battlefield. She smirked -- that would be 9S, then. Finishing off the last few remnants around her was easy, since their formation had completely fallen apart.

Moving to where she had heard the cry, she found 9S was still locked in combat with several medium-sized machines. She frowned as she took in his appearance. He looked beaten up.

She watched as 9S threw his large sword into one of the machines, completely obliterating its core. As he moved to pull the sword back out, another machine was closing in on him, blade swinging.

Without pausing to think, she put a burst of strength into her legs. In a single leap, she instantly closed the gap, got between 9S and the attacker, and brought her sword up to catch the blow. Behind her, 9S had successfully extracted his blade. He struck down another machine at the same time that she sliced through the one before her.

Both machines fell, leaving only the two androids still standing amidst a field of metal debris. Carefully, when she’d confirmed that there were no other apparent threats, she replaced her sword to its sheathed position at her back. Beside her, 9S did the same.

She turned to face him. Outside of the battle, she could confirm what she’d seen earlier. 9S, still breathing heavily, was bleeding out of several shallow gashes. “You're hurt.”

9S blinked in surprise, and looked down at himself. “Oh, yeah, I guess? It’s nothing, really. It’ll heal in a bit.”

2B frowned. “You should have been able to dodge that last attack. You were being careless,” she admonished. “If you’re not safe to fight, you need to tell me.”

“I’m fine, 2B. Really. Not everyone can be a battle model like you. I can hold my own, like you said.” 9S offered a smile, but it seemed a bit stiff.

2B looked at him a bit longer, before nodding her head slightly. “Okay. If you say so. Just be more careful next time.”

9S didn’t have a chance to respond before a mechanical voice rang out.

“Intruders detected!”

Instantly, 2B and 9S were on guard again, back to back with weapons drawn.

“We must protect our king!”

“Protect our king!”

“They just don’t stop, do they?” 9S observed with a slight huff of laughter. “Absolutely no self-preservation instinct.”

2B declined to answer as she focused on cutting down the machines descending upon them. The enemy’s number didn’t seem to decrease at all, as new machines emerged from behind to fill in any gaps.

“Loyal knights! Give your lives for the king of our forest!”

“For the king of our f-forest.”

“Give-give-give your lives.”

“2B… these ones are talking weirdly,” 9S observed with a tinge of anxiety.

2B replied, a bit out of breath, “Just ignore it.” She slashed through the horde of machines again, felling two machines with one blow.

“Don’t let -- intruders -- get in.”

“The e-enemy is a-a-a-mong us.”

“The enemy is among-- among-- among among among...”

There was a loud screech of metal gears grinding, and the machines seemed to seize mid-movement. Where before there was a veritable din of metal swords and armor, it was now eerily silent.

9S noticed it first. “2B, their eyes.”

Shuddering through the machines like a wave, from one side of the horde to the other, each machine’s eyes flashed a bright, familiar shade of red.

The two androids watched in shocked horror as the machine’s eyes flashed red, then reverted, only to flash red again. Blinking on and off like a pulse, each machine’s rhythm out of sync with its neighbors. It looked like a low-budget light show, or a visualization of an encoded data packet.

“We must protect -- protect our --”

“The enemy is among us.”

“Aim for… a-androids...”

The machine’s were all talking over each other, words stilted, with none of the coordinated unity they’d displayed before.

2B looked around uneasily, searching for nowhere the next attack would come from. “9S, what’s going on?” she asked her Scanner.

Hearing no response, she risked a glance behind her. 9S was facing away from her, limbs loose at his side. He looked… vulnerable.

“9S? 9S!”

Still no response. She looked around, and saw that the machines still weren’t attacking. In a split second, she made a decision.

“We’re retreating,” she declared. In a smooth movement, faster than the machines could react, she twisted on her heel, ran past 9S, grabbed his hand, and kept running. Thankfully, 9S ran behind her, his feet stumbling under him. She wouldn’t have to carry him.

When they'd run for what 2B considered to be a safe distance, she turned around to face her companion. His gaze appeared unfocused, and he still hadn't made a peep. ‘Unresponsive’, her mind supplied.

Tearing her gaze away, she instead inspected their surroundings for a good location to regroup. There. A clearing, not too far from their position. The open space would be difficult to ambush, so she’d have time to react if a new threat appeared.

She gave another tug on 9S’s arm to get them moving again, but was mildly surprised to feel resistance.

“What?” came a confused but familiar voice. “Where'd the machines go…?”

She snapped her gaze back so quickly it almost hurt. “9S!”

9S looked back at her, expressive and present. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Ignoring his query for the moment, she leaned in and snapped her fingers in front of his face. Good. His eyes were tracking movement.

“Uh... what are you doing?”

From this close, she noticed his skin color seemed slightly off. 2B put a hand on his forehead experimentally.

“You’re cold,” she reported.

“Is that right? I do feel… kind of off.” He looked it, too. 9S was swaying unsteadily, and she didn’t trust his feet to hold him.

“Sit,” she ordered. She pressed a hand down on his shoulder to emphasize the command.

Still appearing confused, 9S compliantly sat criss-cross on the forest floor. “Um. Do I get to know what happened, now?”

2B grimaced at that. “9S, you were unresponsive,” she reported unhappily. “... How much do you remember?”

“I…” he started. Then squinted a bit in concentration, or possibly pain. “There was the machines, and they received some kind of signal, and… then it's kinda fuzzy for a bit.”

2B frowned. They're androids, they shouldn't have ‘fuzzy’ memories. Not unless something goes wrong. “You said you were feeling fine, before. Pod!” she called to her personal droid, “How are his vitals?”

The pod responded back politely, in its usual matter-of-fact tone, “9S has several mild contusions from the previous fight. Auto-repair is activated and has already made a protective seal.” In other words, mild scrapes and bruises that were already healing. “There appears to be an unusually high degree of deviation in his main consciousness process, which is affecting older functions, including body temperature regulation.” Almost apologetically, the pod added, “I am unable to identify a cause.”

9S’s pod, which was also reviewing the information, piped up, “Symptoms are consistent with the human diagnosis of ‘shock’, which could occur following a traumatic event.”

2B looked at the femine-voiced pod dubiously. She wasn’t sure how much a human diagnosis helped here. Certainly, they were built around a humanoid design, with similar emotional and hormonal functions, but androids weren’t as vulnerable to diseases as humans. That’s why they had survived, when humans… didn’t.

9S seemed to agree. “I’m not in shock,” he protested. “It was… that was clearly a malicious attack of some sort! Pod, rerun the diagnostics and virus checkers. Do redundant scans and compare them for any irregularities.” His pod beeped in affirmation, and 9S relaxed a tad as he could feel the scans kicking off.

2B stood over him, looking on worriedly. She chewed her lip, and seemed to be wrestling with something mentally. Eventually, she seemed to come to a resolution. Her usual determination returned to her posture, and settled onto her shoulders like a mantle.

She looked away, towards the castle-like building in the distance. “We need to find the Twins. They’ll be able to run a proper diagnostic.” She returned her gaze to 9B, who was still sitting on the ground, and said firmly, “You need to fall back for now. I can fight better if I’m certain you’re not in danger.”

“... Right. No problem,” 9S agreed with a weak smile.

For a moment it seemed like 2B had something else to say. But she held her piece, and silently turned to follow the trail they'd been on. 9S, as always, was right behind her, although he kept a larger distance as per her request.

2B stopped short and called back to him, “You're more vulnerable to ambush back there. When we're not in combat, I need you to stay by my side.”

“Yes!” he agreed, jogging to close the distance between them. This time, the smile on his face didn't seem forced at all.

Ending H: It’s Just in Your [H]ead

Chapter Text

“Are we sure the Twins came this way?” Asked 9S uncertainty.

They'd been following the primary path through the forest for some time, and fortunately hadn't encountered any more machine battalions. Without the din of combat, the forest was actually rather peaceful. There was a smattering of wildlife -- boars and the like which kept a safe distance, as well as some birds chirping from the forest canopy. Overall, it was a pleasant place for a walk.

The Bunker didn't have any wildlife, not even bugs. It was a completely sterile environment. The Bunker… didn't have anything like this at all, 9S mused.

It was his pod that answered. “There are signs that two androids came through here recently. Based on the information provided by the Resistance and the machine ‘Pascal’, it is highly likely that these tracks belong to the androids you are searching for.”

9S sighed wearily, but didn’t object further. He was feeling the fatigue of the recent battles. Although androids didn’t need to eat or sleep like organic beings did, that did stop him from feeling the mental fatigue of sustained combat. Even more so for him, since he wasn’t a combat model to begin with.

He looked up at 2B, who was running just a few steps ahead of him. If she was feeling any fatigue, she didn’t show it. Remarkable as ever, that one.

He thinks the machines here are tougher than the ones they’ve fought this far. He doesn’t know what that means, just yet. Nothing good, certainly. Perhaps the machines have been gathering their strength here, training and preparing for an all-out assault. The heads at the Bunker were in charge of anticipating such attacks and assigning missions to preemptively eliminate them. Typically the preemptive strikes went after large infrastructure hubs and factories -- locations which pose the greatest threat, and are also easiest to detect from orbit. It wouldn't be surprising if they overlooked this location, which is more organic than mechanical. If the machines were manufactured elsewhere, and subtly brought here for training… the enemy would be able to amass an army right under their noses. And so close to a major Resistance camp, too.

It's a good thing Pascal sent them to investigate this. A good thing, and suspicious. Perhaps he'd meant it as a trap, sending two YoRHa androids without backup to be quietly eliminated.

If so, 9S thought smuggly, he'd underestimated them.

After a time, the trees around them parted and they were faced with a large, open space. Without the cover of tree canopy, he could see the towering walls of an enormous stone fortress, and it's amazing. It's clearly dilapidated, but the stone construction had held up admirably against the elements. There's multiple stone bridges spanning the length of a wide canyon -- or they had spanned it, once. Either from earthquakes or lack of maintenance, they've all crumbled. Still, the architectural know-how required to build them, with the limited tools they had at the time…

Human ingenuity really amazed him, sometimes.

Of course, 9S observed with some concern, that also means they're at something of a dead end.

He looked at 2B, who had been leading the way thus far. He may be a Scanner model, but she had him beat when it came to following tracks. She hesitates only a moment, looking up and down the canyon, before she confidently chooses a direction to continue in. After following the path a bit more, they find a place where they should be able to cross, which hadn't been visible from their previous location.

At least, 9S thought with some relief, they wouldn't have to go down into the canyon. That would be quite a hike.

They cross the bridge, and 9S can't help himself from looking over the side. A long drop, that. Not as far down as it was from the Tower, but…

Nope. He's not thinking about that. Not right now. He's not.

On the other side of the canyon, they got his first good view of the fortress interior, and it didn't disappoint. Front and center sat a large castle, several stories tall and made of stone -- it's walls were completely overgrown with ivy and moss, giving it a natural, earthy look.

“I guess we know why they called it a ‘Kingdom’ now,” remarked 9S. “It has a castle.” Pausing a moment, he added, “... How much do you wanna bet that the twins are inside of that?”

“No bet,” 2B answered glibly.

As they approached the castle, they entered into a wide courtyard decorated with several large pillars. It was also decorated with several large machines, who looked none too pleased to have company.

It became a blur of combat as the machines noticed their approach and descended upon them. He could hear the clang of swords on steel, where 2B was cutting down swarms of smaller enemies. 9S was outside of his body as often as not, as he hacked into some of the bigger machines. The fight was over in seconds.

This set the trend for their incursion into the fortress. It was full of machines -- much more densely than the forest outside was -- but none of them posed much of a threat. The interior was a bit of a maze, going up and down and up again to bypass crumbled floors and collapsed passageways. He's not sure if either of them knew where they're going at one point, aside from further in.

They were just about at the top of the castle, and running out of places to look, and 9S felt he might scream if after all this they didn't find their targets. He's just kinda done with the whole thing.

And then, as they navigated a long hallway near the top of the castle, they could make out voices coming from up ahead.

“... give it back.”

“No! … just want to…”

The voices were hard to make out, and interrupted by the unmistakable sounds of combat. 2B and 9S both picked up the pace, sprinting across the hallway, up a grand staircase, and through an archway at the top.

And then, as they emerged into a wide, open room, they found not two, but three female androids.

---

For a solid several milliseconds, 2B didn't know what to do.

On the one side, there were the twin redheads. One of them, with curly-red hair, was standing near the center of the room. The other, a far distance out towards the room’s edge, was crouched down on one knee. 2B nearly sagged with relief to see them after all this, unmistakably the ones they'd been looking for. Hopefully the ones that could finally help them.

On the other side, attacking the standing twin with great prejudice, was a YoRHa model android.

And for a beat, she didn't know which side to aid.

Then the moment passed, and she made her resolution -- she needed these redheads, they were known allies of the Resistance, and she would not let them fall here.

In the blink of an eye, she vanished, and reappeared in front of one of the redheads just in time to catch and deflect the YoRHa android's blade with her own.

Meeting the other android's eyes, she saw recognition, which was expected, and also resentment, which was less so.

… Maybe not an ally after all.

As if on cue, a message came in from her pod. Without preamble, the voice of the Commander spoke out, “Bunker to 2B and 9S. We’ve picked up a signal from the black box of a fugitive known as A2. What you see in front of you… is your enemy.”

From the corner of her vision, she could see 9S flinch. Weakly, he objected, “But she’s…”

The Commander continued, “She deserted us. She’s destroyed multiple pursuit androids. Now kill her before she kills you.”

2B pursed her lips, and spoke to the still-active channel, “Commander, we have two civilian androids here who are imperative to the Resistance.”

The reply came after a brief pause. The tone is cold and firm. “... I see. In that case, prioritize your safety. I trust you to make the right call, 2B.” And with a click, the channel closed.

2B firmed her grip on the sword. The right call. She understood it for the warning it was -- a reminder of her duty, as if she could forget.

The YoRHa-type android -- the YoRHa deserter, A2 -- had not moved to attack during the conversation. She was watching them warily, assessing the new threats they represented. 2B let herself do the same, taking in A2’s long, unkempt hair -- much too long for regulations, for field operatives it would get in the way -- and tattered clothing. It was difficult to tell how long A2 had been rogue for, but 2B suspected it wasn’t a short amount of time.

She blinked, and then A2 moved. All of a sudden, A2 was in her face with blade in hand, leveling blow after blow with such force and intensity that it made 2B’s arms as she instinctively held up her blade to block the attacks. Recognizing that she was at a loss in terms of brute strength, 2B jumped backwards to gain some space, but it made no difference. A2 closed the gap between them immediately, and 2B gained no reprieve before she was once again caught in A2’s onslaught.

From her new angle, she could see 9S was looking over the other redhead, the one who was farther away. She's on the ground, possibly injured, and 9S was helping her to her feet. Good. They might be able to run for it while 2B held off the fugitive.

A2 seemed to have noticed this too, and she made an unsatisfied tsk. She made an aborted attempt to run past 2B, but 2B anticipated her trajectory and moved to block her, adding in some Pod fire for good measure. A flash of annoyance crossed A2’s otherwise impassive face. “Loyal dog. Stay out of this.”

“Loyalty isn’t an insult,” 2B retorted. Thankfully, it came out steady. It wouldn’t do to show how much energy she’d exhausted holding A2 back.

Many more emotions cross A2’s expression, nearly too rapidly to identify. Pain, sympathy, fury, before it settled on scorn. Her face, 2B noticed, is made more open by the lack of blindfold.

“Fools who don’t know anything should keep their mouths shut,” A2 replied scathingly.

That’s it. Keep her talking. She just needed to buy more time. She could already see 9S shuffling the first of the two twins back towards the door. There was an Access Point back there. The twins might not be part of the Bunker, but with 9S’s credentials they could still use it for shelter.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who betrayed the Bunker,” 2B accused. She was starting to regain some feeling in her shaking arms -- a bit longer and she could mount a counterattack.

This got a rise from A2. She was outright sneering now. “The Command betrayed me,” she growled, and her voice was all hurt and fury.

Now. 2B launched forward, taking the offensive this time. With the twins nearly out the door, her attention was no longer divided. In an instant she is moving, using her smaller blade to unleash a series of slashes from all directions, leaving behind only flickering afterimages to show her passing. She doesn’t, mustn’t stay in place long enough for A2 to land a counterattack.

A2 was visibly frazzled by the assault. Although she’s not taking too much damage, she was put off balance, and 2B used this to carefully maneuver A2 to the far side of the room, towards an open window and away from the others.

The attack lasted only a few seconds in total, but as 2B landed a few feet away, she can see that A2 is hunched over slightly, holding a wound at her side. Many smaller cuts littered her body.

9S, meanwhile, had left the twins and reentered the room. He came up just behind her, ready to assist in the assault.

“Go,” 2B demanded. “You're outnumbered.”

A2 looked at her levelly, and for a second it seemed like she would attack again. Then the aggression visibly bled out of her posture. “Fine,” she spat, “take your prize. For whatever use you get out of it.” With that, and without turning her back to them, she jumped onto the windowsill. And then jumped out of it.

The moment her visage vanished out of sight, 2B’s knees hit the floor.

“2B!” came 9S’s worried shout.

“I’m fine,” she answered shakily, holding out a hand to deflect his concerns. “Just… tired…” She was breathing heavily now, and she’d definitely pushed her gears past their intended stress threshold, but the fugitive was gone.

They’d found the twins. The mission had been completed successfully.

She could afford this show of weakness now.

Ending I: [I]ncriminated

Chapter Text

“Thanks for your help back there,” one of the redheads, the one with curly hair, remarked. She was shaking out her wrist, and looked a little worse for the wear, but seemed mostly unharmed.

After A2 had retreated, the two redheads had hesitantly made their way back into the room. 2B’s self-repair cycle had activated, and had offset enough of the damage to satisfy 9S for the time being. Now, the two pairs of androids faced each other in a loose circle.

“Yeah,” said the other redhead, the one with straight hair, “you really saved us.”

2B was quick to deflect the praise. “Think nothing of it. We were just doing our duty.” It was a YoRHa android -- an ex-YoRHa android -- that had attacked them anyway, so in a way it was partially their responsibility that the redheads had been in danger. “Can you tell us anything more about the fugitive who attacked you? What was she after?”

Straight-hair worried at her lip, and looked away nervously. It was the curly-haired one who answered, “We found something in the castle. The woman who attacked us wanted us to hand it over. Really rude if you ask me. We found it first.” Casually changing the subject, she asked, “By the way, I don’t believe we’ve met before…?”

“Of course. I’m YoRHa unit 2B, and this is my Scanner, 9S.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” offered curly-hair blithely.

“Devola! Be nice!” interjected straight-hair. “I apologize for my sister. I’m Popola, and this is Devola. We’re support-specialized androids working with the Resistance.”

With this, the newly-introduced Popola bowed forward slightly at the waist in greeting. 2B reciprocated with a nod of her head

Then something caught her eye. A bundle that Popola was carrying -- she’d seen it before, during the fight, but hadn’t gotten a good look at it. During the bow, the fabric had shifted slightly so as to reveal the inner contents.

It was… a machine’s head? A bundle of machine parts?

9S seemed to notice it at the same time, and he leaned in with fascination. “What are you doing with that machine?” he asked curiously.

“That’s…” Popola took a nervous step back, and curled in around the bundle defensively.

Devola smoothly stepped between Popola and 9S. “It’s a baby.”

“A… baby?” echoed 9S in disbelief.

Devola growled, leveling her best glare at the two of them. “Yeah, a baby. What of it?”

9S frowned back at her. “A baby machine? But machines don’t have juvenile phases any more than androids do. They’re fully developed from the moment they’re assembled. So someone created a machine… baby?” Now 9S leaned in curiously. “Why? For what purpose?”

“Wait… was this the thing you ‘found’?” asked 2B with a hint of disbelief.

“So what if it was?” Devola answered defensively. Her arms were crossed and her body language was tense, as if expecting a fight.

“That android, A2, she was going to kill it,” added Popola, who was still half-hiding behind her sister.

“And you were… protecting it,” 2B more asked than stated.

“Why?” demanded 9S in confusion. “Did you need the parts or something? Why is that machine worth risking your life over?”

“Because it’s a baby!” cried Popola. Behind Devola’s outstretched arm, Popola seemed to have recovered her boldness. She was standing straight now, her determined expression mirroring her sister’s.

Both YoRHa androids were surprised into silence by her uncharacteristic shout. Popola took this opportunity to continue. “In the ruins we, we found something… a machine record from many years ago. This baby, it’s their king. The one they’ve all been protecting.”

Popola looked at them all earnestly as she explained the rest of what they’d found. There had been a previous Forest King who had led these machines, but he’d died. The machines needed a new ruler, so they’d attempted to resurrect their king from his parts. This small machine was the result of their efforts to reincarnate him.

“...So they’ve been protecting this baby, his heir, until it has the chance to grow up,” Popola concluded.

The YoRHa androids, and Devola, had remained silent throughout this explanation. 2B looked on impassively, and 9S listened with a sort of morbid fascination.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re protecting it now,” 2B said, cutting right to the point.

At this, Devola sent Popola a concerned glance. Popola met her eyes and smiled softly. The two of them seemed to convey an entire conversation in that small interaction. Eventually, it was Devola who spoke.

“It’s because… babies are something to be protected,” Devola began. “Back when there were humans on this Earth, that’s something everyone took for granted. Babies are… innocent. They represent new life and infinite potential. Even in times of war, enemy children were not to be harmed. This is an axiom of human morality.”

“And we,” Popola continued, “are bound by that moral code. To see an innocent child in danger… we had to save it. Because we couldn’t save anyone back then… we had to try to save this child. To attone.”

9S protested, “But that’s nonsense! Even if it’s shaped like a baby, it’s still a machine at its core. It has the same programming as the other machines in this castle, which you had no trouble destroying.” He gestured to the various machine corpses on the floor, which had been there prior to his and 2B’s arrival.

“Besides,” 9S continued, “if we go based on age, that so-called baby is already at least a couple decades old. Certainly old enough to be considered an adult by human standards. Sure it’s… kind of weak and helpless looking,” 9S shrugged at the bundle of fabric that Popola still carried, “but… it’s not a real child.”

Popola looked at 9S sadly. In contrast, Devola looked incensed.

But before either of them could reply, it was 2B who spoke up.

“‘Everyone has things that are precious to them for one reason or another. It’s not for us to judge their value,’” 2B quoted. “When we were retrieving the photos for the android who lost her memories, I said that, do you remember?” She paused to glance meaningfully at the machine swaddled in fabric. “It’s the same thing here. That… ‘baby’ is important to them; that’s all we need to know.”

Neither side looked too happy at this forced compromise, but neither side looked ready to argue about it, either.

“More importantly, we came here for a reason,” 2B said, changing the subject. Looking at both redheads commandingly, she declared, “We need your help.”

---

Meanwhile, in a distant place, two figures sat at a long, long table.

“Brother, can we play now? I’ve read so much of that stupid book,” a certain machine complained.

“Hm… maybe so. I think I found something interesting to play with,” his brother replied with a smirk.

Ending J: [J]ustice is Blind

Chapter Text

2B explained the situation as best she could.

“We encountered a hostile android with hacking capabilities. We’re concerned he may have installed a virus or other malicious software and hidden it from our own internal systems.” She had only been taking precautions at first. She had good hope that they would prove only that -- precautions. And yet… “9S, at least, seems to be suffering some… aftereffects.”

9S jolted at this, and looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. Had he not been aware? Surely passing out earlier should've been a rather conclusive sign.

Devola and Popola shared a look, and it was Devola who answered. “We do some repairs for the Resistance, yeah, but software problems are somewhat outside of our field of expertise.”

Popola hastily added, “But we can definitely provide a full inspection! Diagnostic tests and all. If there’s a problem, we should be able to find it at least.”

2B relaxed a bit at that. “That would be very helpful, thank you.”

9S was pointedly not contributing to the conversation. His cheeks were flushed, and he was studying his shoes again. They were a bit dirty, she supposed, from walking in the muddy forest. Maybe they should take a shower when they return to the Resistance camp.

“Before that, do you mind if we mind a quick stop at Pascal’s village?” Devola asked sharply. “We’ve still got the kid to consider, and Pascal will probably know what to do with him.”

The ‘kid’ evidently meant the baby-shaped machine which Popola was still carrying.

“We saw a door, back in the forest… It was barred from this side. If we use that, it should lead right to the Village,” Popola suggested.

“Speaking of shortcuts, it looks like this window leads right out into the courtyard,” Devola added, pointing to the large window A2 had exited from. “I assume you two are fine with a short jump?”

2B answered, “We’re fine if you are.” Her limbs were still sore from the earlier combat, but a fall like that was nothing for a YoRHa model. It was more intriguing that the redheads had suggested it -- their bodies must be more capable than appearances let on. Then again, they’d made it through an entire castle of machines. Clearly their skills did not end at medicine.

“Then let’s go,” said Devola, and without a backward glance she promptly jumped out the window.

“I apologize for my sister. She can be a bit brusk at times, but she means well. Thanks again for saving us, I promise we’ll return the favor.” Popola offered them a small but sincere smile as she cradled her baggage to her chest before she, too, jumped out the window.

And then there was nothing to do but follow them.

---

Pascal was very understanding, and downright thrilled to receive their package.

“Oh, he’s so cute! It is a ‘he’, isn’t it? Or not, he can choose when he’s older. But he’s just so adorable!! Oh where did you find this precious angel?”

Popola proceeded to tell Pascal the same story she’d told them earlier, with a few new details added in response to Pascal’s questions.

By the end of it, Pascal was sobbing. “Oh, oh no. That’s so sad! The poor thing, he’s an orphan? And he’s had no one to teach and raise him? A whole castle of attendants, and no family -- how lonely you must have been!”

“Can you… actually raise the child?” 2B asked, morbidly curious. 9S, who had been unusually quiet on their walk to the village, also perked up in evident interest.

Pascal made a strange whistling-humming sound, in consideration. “Yes, yes I think so. I’ve seen great jumps in maturity with some of the children here -- each in their own time, some stay as children for years and years you know? Most will always be children. But some, a few, they watch the teachers and adults and they decide that’s what they want to be, and they play pretend, and then they just forget they’re pretending!”

“So yes,” continued Pascal. “We’ll get him some little legs, let him interact with the children, and in time I think he may grow up. If he wants to.”

9S seemed fascinated by this, and more than a little horrified. He seemed torn between telling Pascal exactly how wrong everything he’s saying is with exacting detail, and putting aside his pride to ask more about this unusual case study. In the end, he did neither, and just looked away sulkily. But his gaze drifted back to the baby, and the other children of the village, and there was a certain glint of interest that wasn’t there before.

---

They didn’t linger much longer in the village, after their purpose was met. They said goodbye to Pascal, and to the small would-be king -- Immanuel, it turns out his name was. 2B felt a bit embarrassed saying goodbye to the small bundle, but did it anyway to be polite.

And it was kind of cute, she supposed. If you looked at it a certain way.

They took the worn footpath back to the city ruins, and the Resistance camp therein. The twins kept up well, and more easily now that neither was laden with any cumbersome baggage. It seemed, she noted with increasing surprise, that the twins were fast as well as sturdy. Not many androids could keep pace with high-end YoRHa models such as herself and 9S.

They returned to the camp, and the Resistance Leader seemed relieved to see them. She offered a warm smile their way, and a nod of greeting, before she turned back to the male android with whom she was discussing. 2B could barely make out the details with her advanced hearing -- something about supplies and personnel management.

The Twins went straight for an open tent in the middle of the camp, behind some of the merchants. It had a number of beds, only one of which was occupied, as well as a few small machines she didn’t recognize.

With belated realization, she recognized it for what it was -- a field hospital.

The Twins seem right at home here. Devola goes over to one of the machines and turns it on, while Popola goes to the android in the bed -- who seemed to have sustained a knee injury. The skin was missing, exposing the wiring underneath, which also seemed to be damaged. Likely he couldn’t move the limb. He doesn’t seem to be leaking any fluid, at least, but that could mean he’d simply bled all the coolant in that area. Not all androids had self-sealing blood which would “scab” on injury.

She looked away. It wasn’t any of her business, really. Just another victim in their war against machines. At least this one had escaped with his life and his limbs still attached -- it would significantly reduce the cost of repairs. If he could save some money, he’d probably walk again.

Meanwhile, Devola was ushering 9S to sit down on another spare bed, on the far side of the tent. There was a curtain separating it to provide a small amount of privacy. 2B followed, keeping them in her line of sight but giving them enough space for Devola to do her work.

Devola turned to the small machine again. She’d brought it with her to this side of the tent. On second glance, 2B saw that the machine was on a cart with wheels for just this purpose. The cart had several shelves with smaller tools on it, some of which she could recognize as basic repair tools.

While she was examining the contents of the cart, Popola came up behind her. “2B, would you mind taking a seat for me?”

“Right now?” 2B responded, nonplussed.

“Yes, right now. There’s two of us and two of you. No reason we can’t get your diagnostic started. Now, would you like privacy, or would you prefer to remain in sight of each other?”

“That’s… in sight, please.”

“Sure thing.” Popola grabbed one of the partition curtains -- also conveniently on wheels -- and dragged it around to create a second cordoned off space. She could see 9S across the way, but had relative privacy from the rest of the camp.

2B felt a brief moment of nerves as she realized she was going to be inspected here, in an Earth encampment, by a relative stranger. She buried the feelings as quickly as they came.

At Popola’s pointed glance, 2B carefully laid down on the bed. It was softer than the ones in the bunker, and it sagged under her weight with a squeaking sound.

Popola went to a machine near the bed and untangled a couple of wires from it. The machine appeared similar to the one Devola was using in the other tent. Popola explained, “This is a basic medical terminal, which will output logs from your system. With your permission, I’m going to connect it to your processor now. It will run a basic script to connect to your system output files, but it won’t affect any of your processes.

“I can technically do the checkup without the aid of a terminal, but I recommend using it. It provides a second, impartial source of data and is shown to make the test results more reliable on average. Do you consent to using this terminal for your checkup?”

2B nodded her agreement. The whole explanation went over her head, and she didn’t actually care either way.

Popola selected a single wire that ended in a small, circular node. She carefully placed the node onto 2B’s neck, keeping an eye on the terminal’s readout as she did. She adjusted the wire slightly until she seemed satisfied. “As you’re aware,” explained Popola, “android skin is conductive. So I can place the node just about anywhere. But I find the neck gets a particularly good signal.”

Popola clapped her hands decisively. “Alright, now I’m going to begin the checkup. As part of the process, I will be sending wireless commands to your mainframe -- since you are conscious and not in lethal peril, I will need your consent to make the link. You should see an internal popup when I attempt to do so.” As an afterthought, Popola added, “If you were unconscious and dying, I would attempt to hack you to provide medical aid. That falls under the Good Samaritan protocol.”

Popola started glowing slightly, and sure enough, 2B saw a system message warning about an incoming request to connect from an untrusted source. She sent a quick approval in response.

2B remained conscious for the procedure, but she didn’t feel much of anything. It was like a faint humming in the background which she unconsciously tuned out. Without anything to distract herself, she found her thoughts gravitating toward the recent events. The Tower. 9S. Cain.

…She couldn’t leave this alone.

She was so lost in thought that it took her a moment to realize the humming had stopped, and that someone was calling her name.

“2B, you can get up now. I’ve finished the diagnostic.”

She sat up in a fluid, effortless motion and brought her feet around to slide off the bed. Whatever the news was, she preferred to take it standing. “Did you find anything?” 2B asked.

Popola hummed disapprovingly. “Well, we did find some underlying concerns, yes. You’re overdue for maintenance, and it shows. Plus, you’ve really pushed your body recently, it seems. Some of your parts are showing sufficient wear that they should be replaced outright. As you know, most android components are rated for a few decades of service. Your limbs are only a few years old, but to already be this worn…” Popola shook her head in wonder.

“It’s a necessary consequence of being a combat model,” 2B justified.

“Well, you’ve got YoRHa supporting you, so you can probably just get a brand new body on-demand. Must be convenient. Not everyone has that.” Popola said wistfully, but not unkindly.

“What about the rest?” asked 2B. “I’m familiar with my physical condition, but are there any irregularities in my code?”

“Oh, of course, give me a second.” Popola went to the terminal and typed in a few commands. The display updated to show a different readout. Popola pointed at some numbers on the screen as she explained. “I ran the full suite of tests. Here we have your reaction test, which checks how quickly nerves are sending and receiving stimuli. Yours is off-the-charts fast. I assume you’ve had no problems with mobility? Good.”

Popola switches to another screen. “Here’s your consciousness and cognition test results. It’s based off a few things, logic problems, Turing tests, and so forth. It’s a bit harder to quantify, but basically it checks that you’re sentient, self-aware, and sane, by scientific standards. Which, congratulations, you are.”

She loaded another readout. “This one tests your emotional regulation. That’s especially important, since androids are even more prone to emotional disorders than humans. Human hormonal systems are more stable because they’re physical -- they have biologically hard-wired checks and balances. Our emotional programming simulates those systems, but it’s fundamentally more malleable, and vulnerable to both outside attacks and internal failures. Too much aggression, or too little, and people get… hurt. Android emotional irregularities happen with alarming frequency, and we still barely understand why.” Popola looked deeply, profoundly sad at this. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, before she came to herself with a quick shake of her head.

“But we were talking about your results! Right. So here’s a visualization of your emotional spectrum, with estimated highs and lows, relative to baseline emotional units. This test has higher variance than most, due to differences in personality between androids, but we can see here that your emotional capacity is within expectations. Anger, sadness, happiness, affection… all working as expected.

“And finally, here’s the result you might be most interested in: your antivirus scan. This isn’t going to be news to you, since you have the same antiviral programs installed in your body, but I’m happy to report that the scan detected no irregularities. It’s just you in there,” Popola concluded her report with a smile.

2B listened to the results with polite attentiveness, relieved when they finally reached the end of the report.

Relieved. Yes. She should have felt relief. This was good news. So why did she still feel anxious? What was this uneasy feeling clenching at her gut that wouldn’t go away?

“That can’t be right!!” came a shout from behind her, unknowingly echoing her own thoughts.

She turned to see an angry 9S facing a very unimpressed Devola.

---

9S knew he was shaking, but he couldn't help it. Because he’d been so worked up about the tests, scared of what it would mean if there was something wrong with him. But now Devola was calmly explaining that nothing is wrong with him, and it’s somehow worse.

“It can’t be,” he repeated plaintively. “You must have missed something.”

“Look,” sighed Devola. “These tests are the best we’ve got. So either you’ve got some kind of mega-virus that can evade detection, in which case, sucks to be you -- or, much more likely? You’re fine. And that’s a good thing.”

9S cringed inward, because she wasn’t getting it. “I don’t… The tests are wrong. Or they’re missing something. Something that wouldn’t show up on the antiviral scans.”

Suddenly, he had a flash of insight.

“That’s it!” he cried, “Something that wouldn’t show up on the antiviral scans -- what if a virus were planted, but programmed to erase itself after a period of time? Then the scans would show that there is no virus, even though the manipulation had already taken place!”

“Sure,” offered Devola dryly, “that’s what the other tests are for. And aside from being a bit high on the emotional spectrum, you’re completely normal, kid.”

“Then something the tests didn’t cover, something…” 9S trailed off. “Memories. Your test suite didn’t check for memory integrity. I…” 9S bit his lip, not wanting to say, but he had to explain this. “I blacked out for a bit. Back in the forest, earlier. I have several minutes with no memory storage. And it’s… not just that. I saw… flashes? Of something else. I’m not really sure, but…”

Now that he had started to talk it was all coming out at once, the words rushing out like water from a burst pipe. “I had some dreams, after. Really vivid ones. Of someplace I didn’t recognize, and it was just… really weird.” He looked Devola in the eye, appealing at her to listen. “It wasn’t normal.”

And Devola, to his relief, did listen -- she was looking at him a little more thoughtfully now. “These dreams. Are they still happening? Do you think if you went to sleep now, you would see them again?”

9S gulped. His mouth felt too dry all of a sudden. “Maybe? I don’t know. It’s possible.”

“Okay then. Here’s what we’re going to do,” Devola said with authority. “We’re going to conduct a sleep study, right here, right now. On you. You’re going to lay down for a full-length sleep cycle, 8 hours long. We’ll hook you up to this machine, and if anything happens -- whatever dreams you do or don’t see, whatever subprocesses are active -- we’ll know.”

“And if… nothing happens? If I don’t see any dreams, wouldn’t the results be inconclusive?” Because 9S really, really didn’t want anything to happen, but not knowing seemed equally terrible.

“Fine. Just for you kid, as thanks for saving our butts earlier, I’ll throw in a special service. You said you’d seen these dreams before, yeah? That means they’re stored in memory. I can set up a subroutine to filter through your memories and check for any irregularities,” Devola must have noticed how 9S flinched at that, because she added soothingly, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna look at all your private memories. It’s just a script. It’ll flag anything that looks weird. I’m not going to look at your memories personally, don’t flatter yourself.”

That’s… Okay. They had a plan. That’s more than 9S was honestly hoping for, and for a brief second he felt lighter than he had in days.

“We’d appreciate that, thank you,” says 2B from right behind him and oh god how did he forget that she was right there -- was she listening the whole time?

Oh god. This was so embarrassing he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe he should hope that his memories have been manipulated, maybe he can ask to have this moment erased where he spilled his guts in front of the person he cares about most, and he looked like a total head-case, and oh god can the earth just swallow him now please?!

Heedless of his wishes, the earth remained cruelly rigid and inert.

“Will you be alright monitoring him for the full 8 hours? Do you want to arrange a system of shifts for taking watch?” 2B was still discussing with Devola. And his shame was just a little more bearable with 2B not directing her attention towards him.

“Don’t worry about it. Popola and I are usually just sitting around here all day anyway. We’ll keep an eye on him.” Giving 2B an appraising glance, she suggested, “You could use the opportunity to have a rest yourself. You look like you need it.”

“I… maybe I’ll do that. Yes,” 2B agreed stiffly.

9S didn’t have to endure his embarrassment much longer, as soon after Devola was leaning him into the bed, attaching a few wires to his skin, and murmuring instructions for him to initiate his sleep protocol.

Without further protest, 9S let himself sink into the soft oblivion of sleep.

Ending K: [K]eep me safe

Chapter Text

2B knew she should go, but she found herself fixed in place. She couldn’t take her eyes off 9S, watching as he slowly slipped into sleep mode and his breathing evened out.

She felt distant, and strange, as if she wasn’t really there. As if her real self were elsewhere, maybe back at the bunker, and looking down at 9S from there.

So 9S was seeing dreams. Nightmares, even, might be the correct term.

She’s still not sure what to make of that. Certainly, androids could dream. They didn’t require sleep like humans did, but it was recommended as a way to process information and learn. Dreams helped with that processing. So it could just be a completely normal response, to have nightmares after the trauma he’d faced in the Tower.

But if 9S thought it wasn’t normal, that it was something more sinister… who’s to say he’s not right?

What if 9S has been… damaged?

She hoped, desperately, that he hadn’t been damaged too severely. Because she knew what the consequence of that would be. She didn't want to have to do… that, again. She didn't want to lose the memories they've shared, and to have him look at him like a stranger.

So she’d put off sending the report to YoRHa. She was still putting it off, even now. Just a little longer. She wanted to indulge a little bit longer.

In his sleep, 9S’s brow furrows slightly. Was he dreaming already? She didn’t dare ask either of the redheads, who were dutifully standing by. Instead, she reached out a hand and stroked 9S’s brow, brushing her thumb over his brow as if she could smooth out his worries with the simple act alone. She noticed some of his hair was out of place, and combed it slightly.

Slowly, she withdrew her hand, although it nearly pained her to do so. 9S twitched slightly at the loss of contact, and for a moment she couldn’t bear to leave. But she had to. And if she did this right, he’d never have to know.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, suddenly acutely aware that the twins had witnessed her act of intimacy. “I’m going to go… take that rest you suggested,” she lied. Alibi established, she quickly exited the tent.

There was someone she needed to see.

---

The white door was unlocked, as it was before. She had no plan for what to do if it wasn’t, but that was the key point -- her whole plan relied on the assumption that she was welcome.

Everything she had learned from their first encounter pointed to that. He had let them in the Tower. He had let them read the data files. And when he had them at his mercy… he had let them leave.

He had called her by name. He said he missed her. Whatever Cain was or whatever he used to be, he had missed her. So he should be interested in meeting her again.

The elevator ride was unbearably long. She felt trapped and cornered and she needed to move. Not soon enough, the elevator emitted her, but... not into the same area as before.

She took in the new area with a keen eye. It was more open than the other area had been. She couldn’t quite call it a room, as there were barely any walls -- just spires and columns suspended in the area where walls might otherwise be. The floor was made out of a plain, square platform, which had a single staircase descending from it at the far side. There were no railings on the platform, and below it she could only see a dense, grey fog.

Behind her, she could hear the elevator doors closing and the elevator itself retreating downward, but she didn’t dare to look. Because in front of her, in the middle of the platform, was that man.

Cain.

And all of a sudden, she felt a righteous anger bubbling in her chest, warm and hot and fierce, and she was furious. Before she could even think, her sword was out, and she was crossing the gap between them. She stops her sword right in front of his throat, but her arms have some bend -- she could finish the stab in an instant if she chose.

Cain, on his part, didn’t so much as flinch. The shockwave from her rapid movement ruffled his hair, which was the only part of him that moved. That, and the small grin he was wearing slowly grew larger.

Before she could think better of it, the words were slipping from her mouth in a growl.

“What did you do to 9S?!” she demanded.

---

There was a resounding silence in response to her accusation. In it, she could hear her own heavy breathing -- heavier than it ought to be, for the small amount of physical exertion. The thrum of blood in her veins. It was all so loud in the unnatural silence.

She kept her sword poised at Cain’s throat, and pushed the blade until it touched skin. She was sweating a little from the strain of stance, and from the heaviness of the atmosphere, but she refused to move. She couldn’t give up ground here.

After an achingly long silence, in which she began to wonder if Cain even remembered her question, he answered.

“I’m sorry… I got caught up staring again. It’s really you, right 2B? You’re here, you’re really here.” And -- she wasn’t imagining it -- he was crying. There were actual tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I must look really uncool right now, huh?” He wiped a hand across his cheek to dry the tears there, but more tears quickly took their place. “You came all this way and I’m just blubbering like a fool, heh.” He laughed a little through the tears, which are still flowing in messy streaks.

It’s surreal. In this moment, he seemed so alike to her 9S that it was uncanny. A little more raw, maybe.

But he was not her 9S.

“Did you not hear me? What did you do to 9S.” She enunciated each word clearly and dangerously. She brandished her sword to highlight the threat of her words.

“Hm?” Cain acted confused. He put a hand on his chin and looked away thoughtfully. “Do…? Did I do something…?”

“Don’t play dumb!” she accused. “He had visions, nightmares. I know you’re behind it!”

“Visions…?” Cain started pacing slightly, looking intensely at his feet as he did so. “I don’t remember anything like that… Hm. How odd.”

She took in his apparent bemusement, and some of the anger drained out of her. “You’re lying,” she said, but it lacked bite. “When you knocked us unconscious, you did something then.”

“2B.” Cain was looking her in the eyes again, earnest and pleading, “2B, you know I’d never hurt you. You believe me, right?”

God help her, she did. “What about 9S? You resent him, right?” It was a leading question, but she needed to know. She needed to know if her theory was right. “Because he took the place that was rightfully yours.”

For just a second, before he could school his expression, Cain’s face winced in anguish, and she knew she’d hit the mark.

Carefully, he pulled himself together, buried the pain. But he still looked unbearably sad as he answered. “No, I don’t -- I don’t resent him,” he denied weakly. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t hurt him. I didn’t hurt him,” he added with greater conviction.

“Promise me,” she demanded. And she’d never admit that her voice was quavering with an unnamed emotion, threatening to break free from her tight self-control. She didn’t know if it was fear or sorrow or hope, but it was unbearably tight in her chest. “Swear to me that you’re telling the truth. Because if you hurt him, I will never forgive you."

She watched him so intently, she could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed dryly. Cain didn’t look away as he opened his mouth to answer with the reverence of a vow, “I swear.”

She held his eyes a bit longer, searching. Then she nodded. For the first time since her arrival, she returned her sword to her sheath and allowed her stance to loosen. She was no less armed -- she can manipulate her swords telekinetically in a fraction of a second -- but it served as a show of trust.

She walked towards him, arms loosely at her sides, hands open and unthreatening. Her heart beat faster, instinctual fear in the face of danger, but she was certain now that he was not dangerous to her.

Because this man, this android who was looking at her so sorrowfully and fearfully, as if he could make or destroy his whole world -- this was 9S. Whatever he was now, whatever had happened to him, he used to be 9S. Her partner.

Cain had even told them as much when they’d first met him. She just hadn’t quite believed it.

She paused in her approach when she was a few yards in front of him, just out of arm's reach.

“Cain… what happened to you?” She asked, gentle and empathetic. She needed to know. She needed to understand. This never should have happened. It was her job to make sure this never happened.

But it had. Which means she failed.

What did she miss? She was certain that she destroyed each and every embodiment of 9S. Could 9S have created a backup outside of the YoRHa servers? It wasn’t out of the question. But if that were the case he wouldn’t have been able to reboot without outside assistance. Someone, or someones, would have had to find him a body and upload him to it manually.

But where would they have gotten the body? It looks exactly like his, except for the left hand, which seems to have been hastily transplanted from another YoRHa model. The skin appears to be in excellent condition -- not what she’d expect from a junkyard salvage job. Unless someone had gone to great lengths to repair him afterwards. But if they had such resources, why the one mismatched arm?

(Or maybe, her mind offered traitorously, she had simply missed one. She’d killed so many, could she really be sure one hadn’t survived by mistake?)

But no, that doesn’t explain the transplanted hand either. She would remember something like that.

(How sure can she be that she remembers everything? Just like they keep 9S in the dark, they could just as easily ‘lose’ some of her memory backups. She’d never know.)

No, she’d get nowhere speculating like this. She needed more information.

“How do you have that body?” she probed again, carefully ambiguous.

Cain, who had remained silent following her first question, looked thoughtful. He had that expression that 9S always wore when he was thinking about something, but wasn’t sure how to tell her, or if he should.

“It’s mine,” he answered firmly, “it’s my body. I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re worried about. And it’s not fabricated either.” He clutched his right hand around his left forearm, where the transplanted hand was attached. A nervous tick? He seemed almost possessive of it, or of his body in general.

His body… of course! She had considered the possibility that his software could have been restored, but why not his hardware? Certainly, some of the corpses she’d left behind had never been recovered. YoRHa had confirmed their death, but if a third party had stumbled upon the body shortly after death, after 9S’s system had ceased to produce life signals, they might be able to revive him. But to revive him after she’d confirmed his death would require significant skill…

Perhaps enough skill to do a battlefield arm transplant. And if such a person made a habit of recovering and repairing deceased android corpses, they might just have a spare arm on hand.

It was still speculation, but if she estimated the likelihood of 9S surviving unassisted, compared to the probability of outside intervention… The chance of a third party causing Cain’s revival was considerably higher.

Then was that third party the reason for Cain’s mental instability? Was it an accident of his data recovery, or an intentional manipulation? She suspected the latter -- she’d never seen someone’s eyes start glowing by accident.

“Right,” she said coaxingly, “it’s your body. No one’s going to try to take it from you.” She might try to destroy it herself, if she thought it would end there. But if there’s a mastermind behind all this, she couldn’t risk it. This 9S -- Cain -- he was a symptom. She needed to find the source of the problem, and deal with it accordingly. Until then, Cain was both a threat and her only lead.

“Don’t patronize me!” he shouted at her, and his eyes flashed red again. Then, as quickly as the anger came, it vanished, and he looked appalled, “No I didn’t mean it 2B. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry, please don’t leave.”

Seeing Cain in this state -- seeing 9S in this state -- she only felt pity. If she could, she really would like to kill him and put him out of this pain he was in. But she can’t, not yet. But she knew, as soon as they find out who’s responsible for his condition and stop them, that she’d do whatever she could to ensure that he finds peace.

As Cain continued mumbling apologies, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. She took one hand and stroked his head, and whispered into his ear, “It’s okay. It’s okay, I won’t abandon you. I promise.”

Ending L: [L]ove you deadly

Chapter Text

The two sat there for a while, 2B holding Cain as he wept and muttered. 2B murmured soothing nothings into Cain's ear, while she tried and failed to make sense out of his ramblings.

She had so many more questions, but time was short. If she was gone too long, her absence may be noticed.

“Cain,” she said, releasing the embrace. “I will figure out what's going on here. I will set this right.”

“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question.

“I’m leaving,” she agreed. “I can't stay here, it's not where I belong.”

Where “here” was, and the true nature of the Tower, were yet more questions she didn't have time for.

“Will you… come back?” Cain asked, hesitant. He grabbed onto her skirt with one hand, like an anxious child.

“If I do,” she asked, “will you tell me more about this place? And about… yourself?”

“Sure,” Cain agreed readily, eagerly, “whatever you want, whatever you say. We can talk about anything.”

“Then yes. I'll come see you again. Until that time…” she looked him dead in the eye, and instructed sternly, “be good.”

“Sure,” agreed Cain flippantly, smiling widely, “I'll behave.”

She wasn't quite sure she believed him.

“Goodbye, Cain.”

“Goodbye, 2B. Until next time.” He said the words like they were sweet honey on his tongue. Something precious to be savored as long as possible.

The elevator appeared behind her as she turned to leave. She appreciated the courtesy, but it was also a reminder that she didn't know how to exit this place on her own should things go badly.

This was such a bad idea.

...What the hell was she going to write in her reports.

---

After 2B left, Cain stared into the space she left behind for a time, his smile fading in her absence.

Into the empty space, he spoke aloud, “You two can come out already. It’s bad manners to eavesdrop.”

“Ooh, have you found us out?” came a teasing voice from behind a pillar. “We didn’t mean to hide, it’s just that you seemed to be in an… intimate moment. And we didn’t want to intrude.”

Cain ground his teeth. “Voyeurism is bad manners, too,” he said caustically.

Two men emerged from their hiding spot -- both were bare chested, showing off an impressive collection of tattoos. “Is that right?” the first man replied, “My bad. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“You’d better,” Cain growled in reply. Seeing this bastard’s smarmy grin was putting him in a bad mood, and completely ruining the good feelings from his encounter with 2B.

The man continued, “Speaking of manners, I believe it’s customary to give introductions when first meeting someone? I’m Adam, and this is my brother, Eve.”

“I know,” Cain retorted.

“Is that right?” the man, Adam, raised an eyebrow, “How odd. But we don’t know you at all.”

“Hey brother!” Eve interrupted, “Who is this jerk! I thought we were going to play together?”

Adam hummed. “I wonder… maybe a new friend? What do you say, Cain?”

Eve gasped audibly, “Wait, Cain? That was one of those names from that book we read! Wait, is that why we didn’t go by Cain and Abel? Because Cain was already taken?”

Adam shot his brother an annoyed look. “I told you already, names aren’t something that should be changed lightly. And I was already going by Adam when you came along. ‘Adam and Abel’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Cain interjected tersely, “As amusing as this all is, I have actual business to attend to, so I’ll be going now.”

“Hey hey hey!” said Eve, “None of that! We came all the way out here to see you, you might as well play with us for a bit, right?”

Cain frowned. “You were the ones who decided to stop by and make a nuisance of yourselves.”

Eve ignored Cain and looked at his brother expectantly, “Hey brother, can we? Please?”

Adam looked at Eve indulgently. “Sure, why not? How about you play with him for a bit?”

“Awww,” Eve looked disappointed, “you won’t join?”

“I’m good. I’ll stay back and watch for now.”

“More for me then!”

WIth that, Eve jumped across the Hall, and Cain barely had time to raise his arms to block a forceful punch aimed at his face. Cain grunted slightly as the force of it pushed him back several feet.

“Hey!” yelled Cain, “What about my feelings? I’m not built for fighting, you knuckleheads!”

But Cain didn't have time to complain further, as another blow came, aimed at his gut. He barely had time to dodge to the side before Eve closed the distance with another flurry of blows.

"Grrr… will everyone just STOP. GETTING. IN MY WAY!"

As he spoke, the ground shook.

White spears burst up from the ground, forming a protective barricade around Cain. Eve was forced to jump backwards to avoid being impaled, but where his feet touched the ground, new spears shot upwards into deadly spikes. This time, Eve was the one on the defensive, having to dodge as the ground rose to attack him.

It was only after he established some distance, about 500 meters, that the onslaught stopped. In the space between Cain and the two machines, upright spears littered the floor like so many crooked fence posts.

Cain's eyes glowed red, and something rumbled underfoot, something large and mechanical.

"You've intruded into my house, and worse, you've interrupted my private moment. Do you know how long I was waiting for that?? And you totally ruined the mood!!"

A giant crack shattered the ground between them, spreading as if through glass.

Then the floor split.

Saying a crevasse opened up would be inaccurate, because there was nothing in between the newly fractured plates but a void and a long drop. Cain stood on one side, still entrenched in a barricade of spears, as Adam and Eve stood opposed on the other plate.

As the rumbling continued, two large machines emerged from the newly-formed rift. Each was large and spherical in shape, well over twice the height of the two machine men. Both had a half dozen turret cannons drawn and aimed at Adam and Eve.

For a moment, no one moved. The silence was all the louder compared to the deafening noise from a moment ago.

Then the silence was broken by a laugh.

"Heh…"

Cain and Eve broke eye contact to look over at Adam, who was huddled in on himself.

"Hehe… heh… haahahahahaHaHA!"

Eve looked at his brother with slight concern.

"Beautiful…" uttered Adam reverently, "Absolutely beautiful!! My curiosity was piqued before, but this is beyond anything I could've imagined."

Begrudgingly, Cain asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you don't know? That's just delicious. You've been leaving trails everywhere. You're very good, but you haven't really made an effort to clean up after yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

Adam smiled widely, holding his hands splayed out in front of him as if in some perverse prayer. "The machine network, of course! Most machines wouldn't know subtlety if you stabbed them with it, so I'm sure your ministrations have been largely undetected. But do you think we wouldn't notice such a large presence on our own network? And once we did, we simply had to check it out for ourselves."

Cain's frown grew sharper. "And?"

Adam smirked back. "Hm?"

Cain growled, "Do you intend to get in my way?"

Adam smiled placidly, "Why would I? I wish for nothing but mutual understanding between machines and androids, and you…" Adam sent an appraising leer up and down Cain's body, "you are nearly the embodiment of that.

"You are like us, and yet you are not like us. You are like the androids, but you are not like them. I sense that we have so much to learn from you," Adam concluded grandly, arms stretched outwards in a cross-like posture that was nearly biblical.

"Yeah, well, the feeling isn't mutual," Cain snarked. "I have nothing to learn from a couple two-bit has-beens who think that violence and death are the epitome of human society. So you can buzz off."

"Ooh, so salty," teased Adam with a smug grin. "It seems like we've caught you at a bad time, so we'll give you some space to think about it. Don't be too hasty to throw away our olive branch, hm?"

"I said I'm not--"

Before Cain had a chance to finish his response, Adam grabbed his brother's arm and the two of them teleported away in a burst of gold.

"--interested," said Cain to the now-empty room. "Assholes."

Ending M: God of the [M]achine

Chapter Text

9S was dreaming. He was at home, in the white-washed walls of… the Bunker? It wasn’t his room at the bunker, but it was familiar all the same. He was happily chatting with 2B. But then intruders appeared, and 2B vanished. He needed to get to her, but the intruders were blocking his path. “...Stop…”

He tried to shove past them, but they grabbed him, seizing his arms. “Stop…!” He struggled against the grip, but it just got tighter. He needed to go to 2B right now, she was in grave danger. He had to do something, it was important, couldn’t they see? Just let him go already!

“Stop getting in my way!!” 9S shouted, as he sat bolt upright -- or tried to. On either side of him, the twins were holding him down, their hands pressed down on his arms.

Reality returned to him in pieces. The twins, the medical tent, the… dream test. Right. He’d been dreaming just now. The twins had been monitoring his sleep to check for irregularities. And 2B…

Was still there. She was sitting in a chair across the way, looking as dignified as always.

He… Had he shouted all that aloud? Blood rushed to his cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look anyone in the eyes, so he just looked down at the cot underneath him and wished for the moment to be over.

Eventually, it was Devola who broke the awkward silence. “...You were thrashing in your sleep. We didn’t want to lose connectivity for the test, so we tried to hold you down.” She rubbed at a spot on her arm which seemed a bit bruised. “You’ve got quite a kick for an intelligence gathering model.”

Oh god, so the arms from the dream had actually been... “Uh, yeah. We YoRHa models are built tough,” he joked weakly, attempting to deflect some of the awkwardness. “Sorry,” he added quietly. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and to do so when unconscious and unaware didn’t sit well with him.

“Eh, no biggie. We’ve had worse,” Devola made a waving motion as if to dismiss the apology. “At least tell me we got the data, I have no desire to do all that again.” She directs this question at her sister.

“Mm, yep, seems like.” Answered Popola, who was looking over the machine readout. “We should be able to process this and get back to you in just a bit. Don’t go anywhere, ‘kay?”

With that, the redheads wandered off somewhere, bringing the machine cart with them. Suddenly he was left alone with 2B, and the awkwardness intensified.

“So, uh, 2B… did you manage to get some rest?” Because he sure hadn’t. If anything, he felt more tired than before.

“Oh. Yes. I rested sufficiently while you were asleep,” 2B answered stiffly.

“That’s… good.”

“...”

“...”

And like that the silence returned, even more oppressive than before.

Before 9S could attempt another round of smalltalk, and likely further embarrassment, the twins returned wearing indecipherable expressions.

“We’ve analyzed the findings, but you’re not gonna like it,” announced Devola.

Fear clutched 9S’s heart, and he forgot how to breathe for a moment. Over the rushing in his ears, he could barely hear 2B prompting for the results.

Popola pulled up an output graph that meant little to 9S -- if he were sent it as a data packet he could have easily analyzed it, but in the moment his eyes just glazed over the visual without processing it.

Devola launched into an explanation. “Like we planned, we monitored your brain processes during the dream sequence. You've got your sleep protocols activating here,” she points to a location on the graph, “where you produce a collection of input sources for the dream generator. These typically include recently acquired audio, video, and data packets.”

“We found nothing odd about the input files -- they included your personal authentication codes, and closely resemble the existing data on your hard drive. As for the dream generation function itself, that's harder to say -- dream algorithms are specialist stuff, and the implementation is pretty much a black box. I don't know how you'd go about debugging it. Arguably you could have problems with the dream generator? Which could result in PTSD-like symptoms, including nightmares. It's rare, but not unheard of.”

“I-I don't have... PTSD, or whatever! What is with you people trying to diagnose me with human illnesses?!” cried 9S in indignation.

“Did I hit a nerve? I told you you weren't going to like it,” Devola said with a shrug. “You know, Android brains are heavily based on human neurology. And that can even extend to ‘human’ mental illnesses, at times, like anxiety and depression. Don't assume Androids are above all that.”

“That said, I was only speaking hypothetically. My best guess? You had an alarming experience and now you're having nightmares. End of story -- nothing weird here, nothing to find. We found nothing in our results that proves anything nefarious is going on.”

There was a heavy silence following this proclamation as 9S attempted to process this, along with the strong emotions he was still reeling from.

“Okay. Thanks, for taking a look,” he finally choked out. They were staring at him, all three of them, and the concerned gazes felt like daggers. He was overwhelmed with the urge to be anywhere but here, and since he's apparently healthy, there's no reason he has to stay, right?

In an instant he rose to his feet and walked out of the tent, and away from the Resistance camp. Behind him, he thought he could hear 2B saying something, thanking the twins maybe, but he didn't care. Once he left the camp, he broke out into a run. He didn't have a destination in mind, he just ran.

He hadn't gotten far when a hand grabbed his wrist, forcing him to a halt.

“9S! 9S, are you alright?” called 2B, voice laden with worry.

“Do I look alright?!” 9S snapped. Immediately he regretted it, as he saw 2B flinch away. “I'm sorry, it's just… been a long few days.”

They're near the pond outside the Resistance camp where they went fishing sometimes. Almost on autopilot, he wandered towards it and sat at the water's edge.

Tentatively, 2B sat down next to him, looking forward rather than at him. She just sat there for a minute, not saying anything, before she ventured, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no, there's nothing… it's not...” 9S sighed in frustration. “I just feel so useless sitting here and doing nothing. It gives me too much time alone to think and it's driving me nuts. I need something to do, to work on, I need to help with something.”

“Oh,” breathed 2B. She didn't provide additional commentary, and they both sat there in silence.

9S felt slightly better for having got that off his chest, and he allowed himself to take comfort in 2B’s presence. He took a moment to just appreciate the scenery, and the person he was sharing it with.

Beside him, 2B let out a small gasp. He turned to look at her in confusion. “What's up?”

She turned to face him, and suddenly her face was all business. “You said you wanted something to do? Well I've got good news for you. We have a new mission from command.”

“O-oh.” He wasn't expecting that, but he probably should have been. It had been a while since their last mission, and they've just received the all-clear from medical.

2B continued seriously, “We've been instructed to track down a group of YoRHa deserters and detain them for questioning.”

Ending N: [N]eural Network

Chapter Text

9S wasn’t sure he’d heard that correctly.

“Wait, what?”

“Our mission is to track down and detain a group of YoRHa deserters,” 2B reiterated patiently. “Your name is on the mission too, you should have the missive in your inbox.”

At her prompting he opened his inbox, and sure enough there it was. A new, unread message from Operator 60 titled “Confidential Mission Details.”

“But… why?” He’s trying to wrap his head around it, but he can’t quite grasp it. They just... left YoRHa? Just like that? There’s no future outside of YoRHa, not really. What would compel them to up and leave?

2B fixed him with a level look. “I thought we’d already discussed this -- everyone has their own reasons for doing things. And in this case, the purpose of detaining them is to find out that reason. As for why we’re getting this mission now…” Her eyes went out of focus briefly, presumably scanning the contents of the email again. “It seems that they’ve made the mistake of stealing from a Resistance base. Perhaps they ran out of supplies and got desperate.”

“Jeez, that’s...” he trailed off, not sure what he meant to say. He buried his head in his hands and cussed softly into his knees. “Shit.”

“You realize that stealing from the Resistance camp means that these androids are criminals, in addition to deserters. The Resistance is barely getting by as it is. They need those supplies for their own members.”

“Yeah, I know, I get it. It’s just. Jeez. My prime objective is to fight machines, not other androids. Especially not other YoRHa androids. First that A2 unit, now this… It doesn’t sit right with me.”

2B leveled an assessing gaze at him. It was stern, but sympathetic. “I understand,” she said finally, “This is well outside your specialty. If you wish, I can take this mission alone -- although I value your support, I am fully capable of operating as a solo unit.”

“What? No!” 9S immediately rejected the idea, turning to face 2B. “I told you, I want to do something -- you don’t need to leave me behind!”

There was something desperate clawing at his throat at the idea of being abandoned, of being unnecessary.

“Look, you’re right, I don’t like this mission,” 9S admitted. “But I can handle it. I’m perfectly capable of setting my own feelings aside and getting my job done. You know I am.”

Beseechingly, he searched her expression, desperate for some confirmation that yes, she trusted him. Whatever he was looking for, he couldn’t quite make it out -- her expression was walled off, even more than usual. As the silence stretched out, it was all he could do to maintain eye contact, because he couldn’t back down here. He couldn’t show hesitation.

Just as he was reaching his limit, 2B let out a sigh. “I know,” she said. “I know you can do this. … I just wish you didn’t have to,” she added quietly, almost inaudibly.

“Yeah,” agreed 9S with a wry laugh. “Me too.”

---

Of course, they didn’t depart right away. There was plenty of prep work to catch up on -- first and foremost was a long overdue sync to the Bunker. 9S downloaded the latest security patches, and ensured 2B got her updates installed too, and only then were they permitted to sync with the system.

9S confided that it was something of a relief to have his data backed up after so long. 2B had to agree.

The next thing to catch up on was shopping, which 9S happily left to 2B. There wasn’t much to do -- they hadn’t gotten a huge amount of loot recently, so they couldn’t do any significant weapon upgrades. Instead, 2B bartered with the Supply Merchant, purchasing healing items in exchange for some of the duplicate chips they’d found.

When 2B returned, she saw 9S leaning over something intently.

“What’s that you’re working on?” asked 2B over 9S’s shoulder.

9S jumped slightly in surprise, but didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Oh, uh. I’m just doing some repairs on that one discarded pod we found, you know, in the desert? Figured it could be helpful.” And indeed, that appeared to be exactly what he was doing. He was crouched over it’s insides with a screwdriver and some other tool that 2B didn’t recognize. “I mean, you can always use an extra pod, right?”

“Right. I’m sure it will prove useful,” agreed 2B. “Would you like me to purchase a program for it?” she asked, nodding her head ever so slightly towards the merchants.

“Ah, no thanks,” 9S declined. “It’ll be easier to buy the stuff myself, since I know what I need. But I appreciate the offer.” 9S offered her a warm smile. “So, what’d you get?”

And the matter was dropped, as 2B gave a basic rundown of the supplies she’d obtained.

---

With supplies and maintenance done, there wasn’t anything left in the way of starting their mission. Except for the big question of how to start.

“So,” 9S asked, trying for casual, “Have you done anything like this before? Tracking down androids on the lam.”

“...Yes. I have some experience,” 2B agreed after a brief pause.

“That’s good,” said 9S with forced cheer, “Then you must have some idea how we go about all this? What’s our game plan here?”

9S’s pod offered an answer in its usual crisp tone, “Proposal: Search the surrounding area for YoRHa signatures.”

9S frowned at that. “That seems… inefficient. Our scanning tools only have a range of a couple hundred meters.”

2B hummed consideringly. “It’s not a bad strategy. According to the briefing intel, we believe that the deserters are hiding in the area local to the Resistance camp. If we can avoid tipping them off about what we know, we can prevent them from going to ground.”

9S didn’t appear convinced, “And running in circles around the city ruins is discrete?”

2B gave him a level look, but her expression held a hint of mirth. “It’s not so different from our usual patterns of behavior, is it?”

… Touché. They did end up running back and forth a lot in the course of their jobs. He hadn’t realized that earth deployment basically meant becoming an errand boy.

“Well, far be it from me to argue with our expert tracker. Let’s get going shall we?” said 9S with a sigh. Sooner they were done, sooner they could put this behind them.

Ending O: Field [O]perations

Chapter Text

“They don’t do things by halves, do they?” complained 9S as they walked. Now that he’d had some time to adjust to the mission, he was dealing with it like he dealt with most things: with a healthy dose of irreverence. “We keep getting all the intrigue missions. You’d think they could mix it up a bit. How about a giant robot? We haven’t fought one of those in a while. It’d be nice to be back in the flight suit again.”

He was half joking, half not. He did enjoy piloting the flight suit -- it made him feel safe and powerful to be encased in a layer of highly weaponized, ultra-resilient body armor. And he would prefer fighting another giant machine mech to, well, this.

“I’ll be sure to pass along your feedback to Command,” 2B deadpanned back.

Encouraged, 9S continued with a grin, “Hey, maybe this is a good sign. If we’re not being deployed to fight machines, maybe that means we’re actually winning, and they don’t have the numbers to sustain the fight.”

2B gave him an unimpressed look as she casually beheaded a machine in their path -- one of dozens they’d encountered on the way.

“Okay, fair,” he easily conceded the point. “But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? The end of the android-machine war. Right now, android forces focus mainly on combat and survival. But if the war ended, we would have drastically different priorities -- reconstruction, expansion… There’d be a host of new android jobs to fill. I wonder where I’d end up… historical research, maybe. Preservation and restoration of old human ruins. Could make them inhabitable again. What about you, 2B?”

“Hm?” she hummed distractedly.

“What would you do, if we didn’t have to fight anymore? I could see you… hm. You’re pretty stern, so a teacher maybe? Or no, a diplomat! You’re always considering the needs of the public, you’d be a great diplomat.”

“If, hypothetically, the scenario you describe did occur…” 2B began. 9S leaned in eagerly, interested. “Then the new jobs you speak of would be filled by new androids, manufactured to thrive in those positions. It’s significantly more efficient to produce a newer, specialized batch than to retrain and reallocate existing personnel,” she concluded firmly.

9S blinked a bit at that, shocked by the sudden tone shift. “...Harsh. You realize that’s not the point of the exercise, right? It’s a chance to daydream about the future and stuff.”

“You introduced a thought experiment,” 2B countered. “I extrapolated that thought experiment to its natural conclusion. Examining an unrealistic outcome does not help one prepare.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Unable to resist having the last word, he added, “Maybe you should be a lawyer instead.”

2B did not dignify this with a response.

---

They started their search in the derelict parking garage, reasoning that it had numerous places to hide and also blocked out radio signals. It would be the perfect place to go off the grid.

They didn't find the deserters, but they did find a number of other androids squatting there. 2B asked them some questions, as discreetly as possible, but none of them had seen anything -- not that they would admit to, at least. 2B thanked them for their time and politely requested they report to the Resistance camp if they did learn anything.

With that lead a dead end, the two androids inspected other conspicuous landmarks: the rusted Goliath, the overgrown buses, and the crumbled overpasses. Anything that looked like it might hide a handful of fugitives looking to lay low.

By mutual, unspoken agreement, they did not search inside the large chasm where the Tower still stood.

9S was feeling more than a bit discouraged at the lack of results. They were currently retracing their steps, again, circling the open tracts of the ruins.

“2B, I don't think this is working. Maybe they've already moved to a different area?” 9S suggested.

2B was about to respond, either to agree or to reprimand, but before she could answer, a quiet beeping sounded an alarm.

“Alert: YoRHa signatures recognized in the area matching rogue units.” Chimed the pod.

2B quickly silenced the alert, and raised a hand in a gesture to indicate stealthy approach. 9S nodded to show he understood. The two of them followed the signature, now represented as coordinates on their interval maps, until they reached the base of a building.

“This… is right next to the parking garage we searched.” 9S couldn't help but hiss out in frustration. “This was the first place we looked! How did we miss them??”

“The signal is coming from above us,” said 2B, ignoring his comment. “We need to get to higher ground. We can ascend through the adjacent building.” She gestures to the garage.

“We searched here already,” 9S repeated petulantly. But he agreed that it was a solid plan -- the garage was easier to ascend than the office buildings. Hopefully they could reach the source of the signal before the deserters relocated.

For the second time today, the two of them scaled the slanted concrete of the garage. This time, they didn't bother to search the shadowy corners, and instead they made a beeline to the top. In no time at all they emerged on top of the structure.

From this vantage point, their quarry was readily apparent.

“Oh come on!” cried 9S. “They're just out in the open -- on a rooftop?!”

2B looked at him reproachfully for the outburst, but only for a moment. In another instant, she was jumping off the rooftop and grabbing her pod for a perfectly-timed glide.

9S allowed himself to appreciate the gracefulness of her acrobatics for half a second, before he followed with his own jump-glide.

---

Their method of approach, though swift, was not subtle. By the time 9S and 2B's feet touched the ground, the deserters had seen them.

By their skittish reactions, it is already likely that they've deduced the reason for the intrusion.

“Alert: Targets are rogue units 22B and 64B, currently designated for detention.” The pod repeated unnecessarily. Well, if they didn't know before, they certainly would now.

As the pod spoke, 9S could see the information pulling as an overlay on his visuals, labeling the targets. 22B was the smaller one, with bright red hair like that of the twins. Not exactly a common color in YoRHa, which typically favored a monochrome palette.

64B was taller and broader, with silver hair like 2B's but in a much shorter pixie cut.

There were only two deserter androids present, which means one of them was still missing. Comparing the numbers the pod listed to the ones from the briefing, 9S concluded the missing member must be their captain, 8B. Former captain, rather.

A squadron of three YoRHa Battle units. Not a group he was eager to face in combat. And the missing member, the captain… was she elsewhere, or was she hiding nearby for an ambush?

Something like recognition crossed 22B's face as she said, “Um… hey, is that--?”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by her companion, 64B, who growled, “They've come for us, idiot! Prepare to engage -- and inform the captain!”

“Uh… Got it!” affirmed 22B with a stutter.

Without further warning, the deserters launched themselves in an all-out, coordinated attack.

While 22B might've been hesitant in speech, she had none of that hesitancy in combat. She landed blow after blow on 9S, who could only barely keep up his defenses. Just as her onslaught paused, her partner 64B traded in for another series of attacks. 9S wasn't given any time or opportunity to prepare a hacking attack.

Beside him, 2B seemed to be faring better -- unlike him, she was suited to close-quarters combat. She attempted to keep them off of him while getting in some attacks of her own, but they kept dancing away at the last second.

9S liked to think that he and 2B made a good team. They fought well together. But this… this was on a whole other level. This must be the result of years of training together. Whatever fighting form they're using, he thinks it might actually be designed to be used as a tandem martial art.

As he analyzed their fighting pattern, 2B was issuing their arrest. She informed them, “You're both currently wanted by Command for desertion. Disengage and surrender immediately.”

This proclamation did nothing to calm them. If anything, their attacks grew more fierce. “Shut yer trap!” yelled 64B defiantly. She was scowling fiercely. “This arrest is a load of crap and you know it. I know what you do to deserters.”

“Then you should have thought of that before deserting,” countered 2B primly. She caught the other's blade with her own. “If you will not come willingly, I will be forced to use force.”

9B let out a bark of laughter unintentionally. Was this them not using force, then? But he was too preoccupied with dodging and deflecting to add his own snark.

“YoRHa was the one who forced our hand,” pleaded 22B. Her voice, in contrast to her partner's gruffness, was nearly tearful. “We didn't want this.”

“Look, maybe we can talk this out?” appealed 9S. He managed to trigger a shield program in his pod, which was helping to deflect some of the assault. “We don't want to hurt you.”

He wasn't able to hurt them, either, but this was more due to his poor fighting skills than any innate pacifism. 2B, he noted, was having more success. She'd managed to get several clean blows on them. That should slow them down, at least.

He regretted looking away, as he felt his opponent's blade cut at his leg -- a low blow which reached under his shields. He cried out in pain and jumped back to avoid the worst of the swing. Still, it was a clean hit. His calf was bleeding pretty badly.

All four of the combatants were looking worse for the wear when 22B cried out, “Hold up! Th-the captain is ordering a retreat!”

“Understood!” 64B acknowledged immediately.

So 22B seemed to be the communicator of the group -- she probably had a private line open to the captain, and acted as a proxy for messages to and from 64B. Perhaps to avoid distractions, or maybe to keep the line more secure.

He shook his head as if to clear the thought. This wasn't important right now, he was letting himself get distracted again.

2B was already moving to intercept them, and 9S moved to follow, but before he'd taken three steps, his leg gave out from under him. He found himself kneeling on the ground. 2B noticed his fall immediately, and turned back to face him.

He could see the conflict in her expression, as she looked ahead. Their targets were still in sight but escaping quickly. A beat of indecision, and then she seemed to come to a resolution. Her mouth set in a thin line, she turns to face him again -- and starts wrapping his leg wound.

“They got away,” he said. He felt guilt pressing inward, but he pushed it away. Self pity wouldn't change what happened.

2B nodded, and offered him one of the medicines she'd bought earlier. He took it gratefully. She pulled out another, less potent one for herself. Thanks to the medicine, they should be able to heal up in a matter of minutes.

By that time, there was no telling how far the deserters would have gotten.

Ending P: [P]artners in crime

Chapter Text

9S let out a heavy sigh. “So much for not tipping them off. Now they definitely know we’re after them.”

He was trying not to show it, but he was feeling discouraged after the fight. He couldn’t shake the feeling that 2B could have handled it, if he hadn’t been there, getting in the way. Maybe she was right, maybe he should have just stayed behind.

“You’re right,” agreed 2B, never one to pull her punches. “If we lose their trail now, they’ll go to ground and abandon whatever hideout they were using.”

With this sobering proclamation, the two androids initiated pursuit. Their pace was slow at first, as 9S was favoring his wound, but it wasn’t long before his autohealing took care of it and they were back to their regular pace.

Even so, the delay cost them. The deserters had scattered and hid expertly, confusing the trail and erasing their tracks. They lost the scent time and time again, only barely picking up a track or errant signal to put them back on track. The process had slowed them down to a crawl -- they couldn’t move fast, for fear of missing something.

It was while they were scanning a small clearing, looking for a clue to follow, that 9S noticed 2B spacing out. Upon closer inspection, he noticed her gaze was out of focus, and recognized the familiar look of someone who was checking their inbox.

“Another mission update?” he guessed.

“Hm? No, not a mission update,” she denied distractedly. “Just a message from a… penpal.”

Oh. That was unexpected. “I didn't know you had a penpal,” he observed neutrally. Not that he knew everything about 2B, but she'd struck him as a loner, like himself. Realizing that she had her own friends that she kept in touch with digitally… made him feel a touch lonely.

“It's a recent arrangement.” At her clarification, something inside him eased a bit in relief. Oh, so it wasn't like there was someone special to her out there.

(Not yet, a darker part of his mind whispered, they weren't close yet.)

No, he was above being jealous of a stupid penpal. He was her in-person friend, which counted for more. ...Even though she’s his coworker, and therefore required to work with him. Even though he couldn't quite recall her ever explicitly admitting that he's her friend. And she refused to call him “Nines”.

… Now he was just making himself depressed. Best not to brood on that, or there'd be no end to it.

Still bitter, he chided, “Checking a personal email during a mission? It’s not like you to let yourself get distracted like that.”

Was he only imagining how her shoulders raised up defensively, and how she tilted slightly away? When she spoke, it sounded as calm as ever. “You’re right. It was my mistake.”

9S snorted despite himself. Like 2B made mistakes. Then he felt ashamed a moment later, because that was unfair, putting her on a pedestal like that. He should know by now that she wasn’t the perfect soldier she presented herself as -- she could also be soft and compassionate, and was so awkward about showing it sometimes. It was part of her charm.

They lapsed into quiet, both lost in thought. He assumed the matter was settled, so he was surprised when she spoke up, voice quiet and soft. “I had asked them for help. I thought they might know something about the androids we’re following.” She shook her head. “They didn’t.”

Now 9S was more confused about this penpal than ever, and unbearably curious. But he swallowed down his questions. He had an unpleasant feeling that should he ask, he wouldn’t like the answers.

---

They searched in this fashion for the rest of the day. Eventually they did find what seemed to be a hideout, which showed signs of being lived in, but it was thoroughly abandoned. There were hardly any marks that someone had been there, except for some conspicuous footprints and scuff marks.

It should have been easier to pick up the trail from there. But unfortunately, the area nearby the hideout was so covered in footprints that it was even harder to make out fresh paths from the stale ones. 9S and 2B found themselves wandering in circles, and coming right back to the abandoned hideout more often than not.

“Why is this so hard?” cried 9S in frustration as they reached yet another dead end.

2B looked around thoughtfully. “They must’ve been prepared for this to happen. This couldn’t have been accomplished in the limited time they had. It would have to have been laid out days in advance. Probably they chose this hideout with a quick escape in mind.”

It wasn’t the most reassuring thing to hear, but it made sense. “Well I guess they’d have reason to be worried. Given that they’ve made an enemy of both YoRHa and the resistance. ...What now?

2B’s lips thinned into a determined line. “Now, we widen the search. And we keep looking.”

---

9S kept his head down while they searched, scanning for errant frequencies while 2B watched the terrain. He followed instructions dutifully for as day turned to night and back again, without any results. They’d been at it for over 60 hours straight, without rest, before he finally cracked.

“2B, wait, let’s just -- take a break, please?” Without waiting for confirmation, he walked over to a nearby vending machine and collapsed in a heap on the grass in front of it. He bemoaned, briefly, that the vending machines didn’t actually distribute drinks as the veneer implied -- he could go for a refreshment right now.

It wasn’t long before 2B sat down beside him, daintily, into a seiza pose. He wondered that she could do so comfortably in heels. He wondered that she could do any of her fight moves in heels, really -- must be part of her model design.

Aloud, he complained, “This isn’t working.”

“Do you have an alternative in mind?” inquired 2B. The hours were clearly grating on her too, as she seemed almost eager for another option.

He hadn’t, actually, but now that she asked… “We need more intel. Something we can use to narrow down their new base of operations.” It takes him barely two seconds to make the connection: “The thefts! 2B, our briefing said they’d robbed the resistance, right?”

“Right...” 2B affirmed uncertainty, not quite following yet.

“That could lead us to their hideout -- where did they rob from, what did they steal? The Resistance has multiple stashes at various hidden locations, to protect against thefts like this. Knowing which one they stole from might give us an insight as to where they’re hiding. Also, if we can get an approximate list of the stolen goods, we may be able to deduce their current living conditions -- and possibly set a trap for them, if they plan to steal again. They’re bound to need more supplies eventually, after all.”

As he talked about the idea, he started to get more excited about it. “You said before that we should avoid asking around too publicly, to avoid tipping off the deserters. But that ship has sailed at this point. There’s nothing to lose by asking for help, and everything to gain!” He leaned on his elbows to look at 2B, smiling goofily.

2B appeared less enthused, for some reason. “I don’t know if we should involve anyone else. Our mission is meant to be confidential.”

Her denial doused his enthusiasm like water on coals. Only for those coals to light up again with an indignant outrage. With biting sarcasm, he retorted, “What, like you told your penpal about it?”

2B, for a moment, looked completely shocked. A flash of something that might’ve been hurt crossed her expression, before she schooled it into stone.

The pause was heavy and loaded. Finally, 2B pronounced stiffly, “Fine. We’ll go with your plan.”

As she got up and brushed herself off, she wouldn’t meet his gaze. The very air seemed colder as she entered into the vending machine waypoint without a word.

As he got up to follow, 9S couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d crossed a line he hadn’t known was there.

---

Anemone looked at them both with a blank, confused expression. “I’m sorry, there must be some misunderstanding. None of the warehouses reported any stolen goods.”

Something in 9S's stomach clenched. What?

Beside him, 2B asked, “Are you certain? Perhaps only a small number of goods were taken, or the theft was covered up.”

Anemone frowned right back. “Even if that were the case, how would you all know about the theft if we ourselves don't? Look I… appreciate YoRHa's oversight and protection. But we know how to manage our own supplies. Nothing's gone missing.” Diplomatically, she added, “If that changes, you'll be the first to know.”

2B locked eyes with her, and Anemone met that gaze unflinchingly. What was communicated there, 9S didn't know, but eventually 2B was the first to break it off. “Thank you for your time,” she said neutrally. 2B then turned, and made for the boundary of the camp in unhurried strides.

9S waited until they were outside of the camp, and far enough to not be overheard, before he hissed, “What was that?!”

2B didn't answer, only pursed her lips, but he wasn't really asking her anyway.

“This is ridiculous, there must've been a mistake in the mission intel. We need to clarify this with HQ right away.”

“9S, don't,” 2B protested softly.

But he wasn't listening. He was already dialing his Operator. “21O? This is 9S. I had a question about our latest mission.”

From the phone speaker came a put upon sigh. “9S. Good to hear from you, finally. You're overdue for your regular check-ins, and you still haven't handed in your reports for the last two missions.” There was no missing the prim disapproval in her tone.

“Not now, this is important,” he argued impatiently. A grunt of disapproval came from the other side of the line, but no further objection was voiced. “It's about the YoRHa deserters. We need to know what warehouse they stole from in order to track them, but the Resistance Leader says they haven't had any thefts recently, at all.”

This time, the silence at the other end of the line was much more foreboding. “I can't tell you much, 9S,” said the Operator. “This order came from the Commander herself. I'm not privy to the details.”

And why did that sound so ominous? Why did 21O sound so dead serious when she said that? “21O, please. You have to give us something. We need a lead,” he pleaded.

More than that, he realized, he needed an answer. It had been bothering him all this time. Why were they hunting down these deserters? The answer was simple, on the surface: deserting YoRHa was an act of treason. It was a crime that was met with heavy punishment in the YoRHa military.

But then why would they include the allegations of theft? The accusation served to place the deserters in a negative light, only… The story wasn't lining up. Anemone, the alleged victim, was denying the charges. Did YoRHa discover something that the Resistance missed? If so, they would surely have notified the Resistance Leader about it, right? Unless… there was never any theft to begin with.

But why? Why make this up? Desertion was already a crime without adding theft on top of it, so why would they place false charges in the briefing?

9S couldn't think of a reason, and it was driving him nuts.

He was so lost in thought that he jumped in surprise when a reply finally came through the phone speaker. The voice was terse, but if he didn't know better, he'd swear that there was an undercurrent of fear beneath it.

“Be careful, 9S. I have no further information.”

The click indicating the call had ended felt strangely like a betrayal.

2B's eyes on him, far too knowing and far too apologetic, felt like a betrayal too.

Ending Q: [Q]uestions with no answer

Chapter Text

Cain sat alone in a featureless white void. His eyes were shut, but a soft red glow could be seen from under the lids. His mind was a whirlwind of activity, but his body was perfectly still as he maintained a trance-like state.

Although in this void of the network, it might not be accurate to call it a body. It was more of an avatar, a visualization by which to better interact with others in the network.

Speak of the devil… A second person manifested into the space. There were no glowing lights like there would be in the physical world -- it’s simply that he wasn’t there, and then he was.

“Leave me alone,” Cain demanded without opening his eyes.

Adam offered a tolerant smile. “Now don’t be like that. Aren’t we comrades?”

“I’m not interested in being friends with a couple of religious fanatics. Go die somewhere else.” Cain replied shortly.

“Really? That’s rich, coming from you. Cain.”

Cain finally opened his eyes and glanced at the man who was standing beside him, but he didn’t stand up. “So maybe I’m a hypocrite. At least I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re what, two weeks old now?”

“Something like that.” Adam agreed amiably. “But age is a funny thing for machines. We’re born with so many memories and protocols already built in, so we’re never really children.”

“Or it just means you’re always children. Machines can’t grow.” Cain answered coldly.

“Really? Is that truly what you think? You, who’ve integrated yourself into the network -- I know that the YoRHa crusaders might believe that garbage, but you must know better,” Adam pried eagerly.

Cain looked away again. “Shut up. You don’t know anything.”

Adam responded with uncharacteristic silence. He just looked at Cain, studying him patiently.

Eventually, it was Cain who spoke up again, “Know better, huh?” Cain slowly got to his feet, “I know plenty. I know that machines are dumb, stupid, brainless pieces of code that can only follow a set pattern, even if it destroys them. They get an idea, and then they fixate. They repeat and repeat and repeat but they don’t learn, because they don’t know how to do anything else!!” Cain was ranting now, face flushed with emotion.

“The Forest Kingdom? They learned about feudalism. Those manics in the factory? They fixated on religion. And those horny machines that birthed you? They learned about sex. Even those machines in the village, they’re fixating on education but they don’t learn. And all of them died miserable deaths!”

Cain exhausted his anger, and his next words came out quiet and empty, “Each and every machine ruins itself following the same, stupid patterns. Machines are broken. There’s something missing inside -- inside all of us.”

Adam looked on soberly. There was no trace of his previous easy laughter. “So God created man in his own image,” he recited. “Humanity is full of folly. History tells us this. We, who learn from humans, can only be equally flawed. But in those flaws there is beauty.”

“I’m not interested in your philosophical drivel.”

“It’s -- it’s not drivel, you…! It’s culture…!” Adam looked completely affronted for a moment, before he managed to collect himself. He continued as if nothing had been said, “When the Tower of Babel was struck down, the people were scattered and unable to communicate. They fell apart as a consequence of their hubris, and couldn’t understand one another. Do you know why God struck them down?”

“Because they built something really, really tall and they acted full of themselves?” Cain answered disinterestedly. Belatedly, he added “...Wait. Is this about the Tower? Because that wasn’t my idea. My taste isn’t that tacky.”

Once again Adam looked mildly insulted. “What’s wrong with it? It’s a fine structure. But no. It wasn’t because the tower was tall, nor because of their pride. No, God said this: If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.”

Adam paused a moment to let the quote resonate. “Don’t you see? Even God was afraid of what the masses might accomplish if united. The machine communities you mentioned, they all speak different languages. They are, as you say, scattered and weak. But you and I are communicating right now. And we both possess the power to commune with the other machines on the network. Do you not see how monumentous that is?”

Cain scowled. “So what, you think that if you think for them, then something will change? Or what, we establish a machine hive mind? Been there, done that. Not a fan.”

Adam shook his head. “Just the opposite. I’ve been studying human records, looking for clues… and I believe that the network is holding us back. Machines can instantly relay and copy thoughts, so we merely replicate, and nothing new is born. There’s no disagreement. But this, right here? Right now, we’re both in the network, but we’re speaking as separate entities. In this way, new ideas can be created. We can evolve.”

“... So your bright idea for machine development. Is talking,” Cain summarized blandly.

Adam’s lips twitched upward with amusement. “Why not?”

Ending R: Losing my [R]eligion

Chapter Text

“You knew, didn’t you?” 9S shouted accusingly.

He’d waited until they were alone, far enough outside the camp to not be in hearing range, because he had that much discretion at least. But meanwhile, the betrayal in his stomach had churned. His doubts kept circling his mind, growing ever louder and more urgent the harder he tried to damp them down.

2B didn’t seem surprised, which was incriminating all on its own. She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “No. I wasn’t told anything more than you,” she denied firmly. “But… I suspected. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And you tried to hide it from me?” yelled 9S, his outrage further fueled by her confession.

“It would be easier if you didn’t know,” said 2B simply. In contrast to his growing distress, she seemed to grow even more calm. “Easier to do what needed to be done.”

“And it doesn’t worry you at all that our mission contains falsified charges? How are we even supposed to operate if provided false intelligence?” he protested indignantly. He wasn’t sure if that was what really bothered him, but it was easier to point to then the unsettling, moral wrongness of the whole situation.

2B crossed her arms defensively in front of her chest. “The orders came from the Commander herself. We have no right to question them.”

She was right, dammit, but that just made it worse. According to their command structure, they didn’t have any right to question their orders. And that stung. But even so… “This is wrong, 2B. This is wrong, and you know it.”

2B’s whole body flinched as if she’d received a physical blow.

Quietly, she spoke, “I don’t want to do this. But what other option do I have? Tell me, 9S, what else could I have done?” Her voice choked up, defiant and pleading all at once. To 9S’s shock, he could see twin streams of tears leaking out under her blindfold.

“What else could I have done?” she repeated weakly.

And 9S had a sinking realization that they weren’t talking about the current mission anymore.

“I… I don’t know, 2B. I really don’t know.”

---

They sat there in silence for some time, each with their own thoughts. 9S watched 2B with concern, but didn’t make a move to comfort her directly. Instead, he looked guiltily away. Seeing her cry felt wrong somehow. And wouldn’t it be worse if he comforted her, when he was the reason she was upset? When he was, even now, still angry with her?

Aside from the tear tracks, there was little in 2B’s expression that revealed her mood, and even those tears dried quickly. She quietly composed herself and, had he not seen her earlier breakdown, he’d never have suspected she was anything less than calm.

He didn’t know exactly how long they sat like that, before the silence was interrupted by the ring of an incoming phone call.

9S nearly jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. A quick check of his notifications confirmed that the call wasn’t for him, so he looked at 2B expectantly. She wore an expression that he couldn’t quite read -- half-nervous, half-perplexed. It’s not one he was used to seeing on her.

“Is it your penpal?” he pried, fairly sure he’d kept his feelings out of his tone.

2B looked confused at him for a second, before her expression cleared in recognition. “No. Someone else.” She paused, before clarifying, “It’s Jackass. I contacted her about a job earlier, I’m just surprised to hear back this soon.”

“Oh.” 9S hadn’t realized they had another job. Had 2B taken it on during his ‘sleep study’?

“It’s… sensitive, so I need to take this privately.”

“Oh.”

He watched her dash and jump over the rubble and out of sight, a thousand questions in his mind that he couldn’t voice. 2B had been acting strangely just now -- she had been for a while, now that he thought about it. Something wasn’t adding up.

Besides, what sort of mission was sensitive enough that he couldn’t know about it, but a Resistance member could?

---

2B waited until she was certain she was out of earshot to accept the phone call. Immediately, Jackass’s face appeared in a projection before her.

“About time you picked up,” said Jackass with a laugh. “I was beginning to think I’d done all that investigation for nothing.”

2B’s ears perked up at that. “You’ve found something?”

“Oh yeah, you’re going to owe me big for this one,” bragged Jackass. “Don’t forget, you promised to help me with my research, and I have plenty more experiments lined up.”

2B hissed impatiently, “I remember. Do you know anything?”

Jackass smirked. “Yeah, not that you gave me much to go on. ‘Any suspicious activity involving harvesting and restoration of YoRHa corpses’ is not really specific, ya know?’ I mean, look, you guys die all over the place, and there’s plenty of androids out there who would pay an arm and leg for -- heh, a YoRHa arm or leg. So there’s a lot of scavengers who make bank by picking up and selling any parts they can find. A few of ‘em are in the Resistance, actually, you might’ve seen ‘em in the market.”

“Anyways,” she continued, “I asked around for who’s been buying. Primary income comes from -- and this might surprise you -- YoRHa itself. Yeah, turns out building new bodies all the time isn’t cheap? So they recycle materials where possible, I guess. They pay the best, too, so the scavengers will generally give them priority.”

2B frowned. “That’s not new information.”

“Hold your horses, I’m getting to it! Sheesh. Here’s the deal, most non-YoRHa buyers fit a certain profile: androids with low-budget bodies that got injured or just broke down, who need spare parts to get up and running again. And you may not know this, being as you have your fancy Bunker to make your fancy repairs with off-the-shelf new parts, but down here we tend to use any spare part that fits -- or that we can jury-rig into fitting. Any leg is better than no leg, right?”

“But this one guy, he comes in asking for something real specific: processing chips compatible with a YoRHa type-S unit. Which is strangely specific, don’t you think? Type-S units -- well, I don’t have to tell you, that’s top-of-the-line tech right there. Way better than you’d need for a repair.”

2B stopped breathing. Her veins turned to ice. Everything around her felt distant and faded, as her attention focused entirely on Jackass’s message.

“Of course, the merchant didn’t have anything like that, and even if they did they would sell it back to YoRHa. YoRHa, uh, discourages distribution of their proprietary plug-ins. You know how it is. But they took note of it, said they’d keep an eye out and recorded his contact info. Which I now have. So yeah, that sound like the kind of ‘suspicious activity’ you were looking for?”

“Where.” 2B could barely choke out the word.

“Oh-ho, it is, I knew it. You’re lucky I’m brilliant, I managed to track this guy using his comm number. But you owe me extra, kay? And I will be collecting.”

“Where can I find him,” 2B demanded again. Her pulse was loud in her own ears.

Jackass must’ve seen something in her expression, because her voice shook slightly as she asked, “Uh, you’re not going to kill him, are you? Wait, nevermind, I don’t want to know. I’m sending you the location now.” And she promptly disconnected.

2B felt a sense of calm wash over her as she received the location data. She had the presence of mind to open a quick email to 9S, instructing him to keep an eye out for the deserters and attempt to locate them, but to not engage them until she returned. That should keep him occupied, and stop him from worrying too much.

Email sent, she pulled up the coordinates on her map -- somewhere in the desert, not far. She could be there in under an hour if she ran. She gripped the hilt of her sword, feeling assured by the familiar rigidity.

She knew what she needed to do, now. She was going to fix everything.

Ending S: [S]ensitive intel

Chapter Text

2B would admit that her expectations had been low, when she sent out the request to a few of her more discrete contacts. The request had been vague at best, by necessity. Having information about Cain leak would not do her any favors in her quest -- at best, she risked paying for false information. At worst, it would tip off her targets, or Cain himself. The element of surprise was one of the few advantages she still retained.

Someone had made Cain what he is, either by accident or by sinister design. Someone like that didn't come from nowhere -- they would leave a trace; a secret workshop, missing parts, a repair person. All of these could be tracked down.

The ground was a blur under her feet as she ran across the rooftop, leaping gaps and sliding through the ruins. Before long, the green overgrowth made way for an ocean of sand. 2B didn’t bother engaging the desert machines, she didn’t have time to waste. Instead, she danced past them, kicking up a trail of dust in her wake which was the only sign of her passing.

Their slow pace from before, when they were tracking the traitors, seemed like a lie as she swiftly made it to the Housing Complex in record time.

The signal on her map hadn’t moved. She slowed down to a more sedate pace as she narrowed in on the area. Her eyes tracked the large buildings for signs of movement. There were hardly any machines in sight now -- perhaps a sign that someone living here was keeping the population in check? She surreptitiously peeked through broken doorways and windows, looking for the source of the signal.

Then her eyes caught on it. Her blood went cold, and a shudder traveled down her spine, as she saw it.

A YoRHa type-S unit, alike to 9S in appearance except for raven-black hair, was standing at attention inside one of the buildings. He wore the standard YoRHa uniform with its heavy jacket and boyish shorts, completed by the blindfold over his eyes. He looked for all the world as if he’d just walked off the assembly line.

Her first thought was that’s not Cain.

Her second thought, expanding from the first, was there’s more of them.

This was exactly what she’d worried about. How many were out there? What was their agenda? Who was doing this???

Carefully, cautiously, not even breathing, she crept closer. The Scanner didn't seem to have seen her yet. She moved closer to the wall of the building and crouched beneath a broken window, angling so that she could still see him but he, with any luck, wouldn't spot her.

Which might not count for much, against a Scanner. They wouldn't necessarily need to see her to detect her.

Still, he gave no outward reaction, so maybe she was in the clear for now.

From her position, she can see both the Scanner and the room at large. It's… barer than she would have expected. Some scrap pieces litter the ground, but otherwise there's no furnishings. Perhaps this Scanner was just a guard, and the real hideout was on an upper floor?

She also, more importantly, saw no other life forms in the room, either machine or android. The Scanner appeared alone. She wouldn't miss this chance.

Faster than organic eyes could follow, she vaulted through the broken window frame and closed the distance to the lone Scanner, grabbing his wrist in her left hand. Her right hand held a sword against his throat.

The whole motion took less than a second.

...It took her longer than that to realize something was wrong.

The body was limp and yielding in her grasp. There was none of the resistance she would have expected, no tug or seizing of muscles. It was slack, like a corpse -- except not quite, because as she pulled the arm, the Scanner leaned forward, and his feet stumbled forward to prevent his fall.

She frowned. Something was wrong. Well, everything was wrong, but she felt specifically like she was missing something.

She didn't have time to consider further, because it was at that moment that she heard footsteps from behind her. She twisted around, dropping the arm in favor of grabbing her second sword.

Behind her, standing in the center of the room, was as android as ordinary and unassuming as any she'd seen. The only distinguishing feature was how harmless he seemed. Too harmless to be in the company he now kept.

Unwittingly, she lowered her weapons slightly. She squinted at the man, willing him to make sense. He wore a tattered cloak, practical for keeping the desert sand out of his gears. His build was sturdy and masculine, and he sported a short cropped haircut. Overall, a typical Resistance Android.

Then she remembered that this might be the very Android who was asking for YoRHa parts in the market, and her grip tightened so firmly on the hilt she could hear her joints grind. Because how dare he.

Before she consciously made a decision, her body was moving, colliding into the Resistance android and shoving him violently against the far wall. She grabbed the scruff of his oversized cloak and yanked him up by it, pushing her arm against his throat hard enough to hurt.

“You were buying YoRHa parts in the market,” she accused in a low growl.

He seemed to recognize the severity of the situation because he didn't bother trying to deny it. “Y-yes,” he confirmed with a stutter. 2B felt a dark pulse of satisfaction at his evident distress.

“Why,” she spat. It was not so much a question as a demand.

“I, I just wanted to help him. He-he needed my help,” the man pleaded.

“Help who?” she pried.

“The boy. He was, he was broken in battle and they just. They just left him there.”

“And you thought it was a bright idea to bring him back. Fix him back up again.” A nod from the man confirmed her claim. “To what end? What was your purpose in doing this?”

The number of uses for a military-grade Scanner were limitless, and none of them were good. Not for YoRHa, at least.

“I just wanted a family!” he cried out.

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't that. What?

“...What?”

“When I saw the machines together, I… I realized I wanted something like that. Someone to keep company, someone to protect -- a purpose to my existence. Please understand, I was just trying to help!”

It was an answer that clarified nothing at all. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, equal parts perplexed and angry. “There are dozens of Resistance androids out there in desperate need of repair, androids that may die if they don’t receive help. Why did you look to them for family? Why YoRHa?”

“That’s…” He averted his gaze guiltily at that, but didn’t back down. “He’s just. He’s beautiful. Once I saw him I knew it had to be him. He’s so young and pure and innocent -- not dirty like the rest of us here on the surface. He’s like an angel.” His eyes shone with conviction that bordered on obsession.

2B’s gut squirmed at the description, because no one in YoRHa was pure, not really. They might be shiny and new on the outside, but inside they were rotten with sin. But then, with the new S-Type models… they were kept innocent by force, weren’t they? Never allowed to know too much, reset over and over again, the S-Types might indeed be the most innocent among them.

But this man didn’t know that, he couldn’t. She took the blooming feelings of affection and guilt and smothered them, pushed them away, because neither was a feeling she could afford to nurture. Both were weaknesses. Instead, she focused wholly on the man in front of her.

“It wasn't your place to do that,” 2B reprimanded. “YoRHa takes care of their own. If they left him behind, it was because they determined him to be beyond recovery.” They would have ensured it, even, via remote self destruct if necessary.

The man shook his head. “That's no excuse to give up on him. He still has a lot of basic functions, and he's capable of reacting to his environment. See, look.” He turned to face the Scanner, as much as his current pinned position allowed. “Kid, how are you doing?”

The Scanner, seemingly named “Paphos”, moved for the first time upon hearing the question. Jerkily, he tilts his head to face the pinned man. “I-I-I am f-f-functional. B-b-battery level i-is w-within h-h-healthy ra-ra-range.”

The Resistance man nodded in approval, although the motion was stilted by the sword against his throat. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

“N-n-n-no.”

2B listened to the interaction with a sort of horrified fascination, like watching a spacecraft crash. Because that… that was not a functional or autonomous Intelligence. “Pod, perform a scan on the S-Type unit,” she commanded blankly.

Her pod chirped in affirmation. She only had to wait a few seconds for the pod to send her a data packet with the results. Aloud, the pod chirped, “Analysis complete: Unit's processing and personality matrix appear to be irreparably damaged. Data recovery not possible. The unit appears to be running secondary drivers installed by the manufacturing facility.”

2B frowned, confused. “Why is he like this,” she asked aloud to both her pod and the Resistance man. “The other one was much more advanced -- keenly intelligent, despite signs of psychosis.” Why then, was this unit so… shoddy?

Now it was the Resistance man's turn to look at her funny. He seemed to have calmed down some, and it was with pure confusion that he asked, “What other one?”

2B looked at the man askance, because what? He couldn't be serious. “The other Scanner. He called himself Cain. You might know him by the designation 9S?”

The Resistance man only shook his head, looking lost. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” he said.

No. No. “You're lying,” she accused, but it sounded weak to her own ears. Because he didn't sound like he was lying. Nothing in his demeanor was consistent with the mastermind she'd been anticipating. “You must know something, or you were working with someone who does--” she demanded almost desperately.

He shook his head ruefully. “If I had anyone in my life, I wouldn't need to resort to something like this. I've been alone for years. It's just me and the kid.”

2B narrowed her eyes, possibilities flashing through her mind as she tried desperately to reconcile this new information with her own deductions. She didn't like how it added up.

“Shit,” she cursed. “It's not you. It was never you.”

She was pacing now, her ire suddenly without a target and yet no less violent. She felt it boiling under her skin.

A deadend, a false lead. She'd been so sure.

Now she was back at square one. She had nothing, no answers, only her questions and fears and she was running out of time. Cain, and whoever he was involved with, would already be making their moves. Moves that she was no closer to understanding.

Abruptly, she was interrupted from her racing thoughts by an incoming message alert. She opened her email inbox with the barest thought, out of habit more than anything else, only to freeze when she saw the contents.

From: Unknown sender
Subject: Miss me?? :)

And suddenly all of the thousands of thoughts swirling in her mind left her in a rush. The transition was so sudden it nearly made her dizzy. Her mind sharpened and she regained her sense of focus. Because no, she still had one lead, one very crucial lead.

She almost dashed out of the room immediately without a second glance. She couldn't have left fast enough, but she saw the occupants and it tugged at something inside of her. She barely knew the Resistance man, and she liked him less for knowing him, yet still…

“I would advise you to abandon your current course of action,” she intoned severely. “That body might as well be a bomb, because the moment you get it working, if you somehow get it working, YoRHa will kill you." Quietly, more to herself than him, she added, “I should kill you right now for even trying.”

Maybe the sight of the body, looking so much like 9S, looking almost alive but not, had her off balance, because her expression softened as she advised, “That body isn't alive anymore, not in any of the ways that matter. Don't waste your time trying to save the dead.”

She said it to herself as much as to him. A mantra that has kept her sane, or nearly so. Forget the dead, focus on the living. Because that's all you have left.

That would be easier to do if the dead stayed dead like they were supposed to.

Warning delivered, she didn't hesitate to leave the room. Whether he acted on her advice was up to him, she could do no more for either of them.

She waited until she had some distance from their hideout, and was assured of her privacy, before finally looking at the email.

From: Unknown sender
Subject: Miss me?? :)

Hey ~*Penpal*~, how are things?

I’m so excited you finally decided to give me a nickname :D

It's been really lonely here, I hope you visit me soon. I'm sure I can be better company than that old man. ;)

Ending T: [T]orture and Interrogation

Chapter Text

From: Unknown sender
Subject: Miss me?? :)

Hey ~*Penpal*~, how are things?

I’m so excited you finally decided to give me a nickname. :D

It's been really lonely here, I hope you visit me soon. I'm sure I can be better company than that old man. ;)

The email was just as irreverent as their previous correspondences had been. It was something she imagined 9S might write, were he not so aware of both the company's policies and the opinions of his co-workers.

Still, the detail in the email itself was concerning. Because she hadn't shared that information. She had been very careful not to share any information of worth.

Hastily, she penned a reply:

Re: Miss me??

How do you know about that. Are you spying on me?

She received a response within seconds.

Re: Re: Miss me??

Always ;)

Which was… exceedingly creepy, but not out of character for Cain, she supposed. She didn't know the limits of his abilities, and it wouldn't be wise to underestimate him.

It was of limited consequence regardless. Even if he was spying on her, it wasn’t anything new -- she was so accustomed to being closely monitored every minute of every day, that she’d come to view it as the default. By now she knew how to keep things close to her chest.

Re: Re: Re: Miss me??

Do you have any relevant intel about that man? Is his case related to yours in any way?

If you can tell me anything about the parties responsible for the wrongs done to you, I will do everything in my power to see justice served.

I want to help you.

She looked over the contents briefly before sending. A bit heavy-handed, perhaps, but she’d lost too much time already on false leads.

As usual, she received a reply nearly instantly.

Hmm… I miiight have some answers for you… but only if you make it worth my while. ;)

So he wanted to bargain. That was a good sign, hopefully.

What are your terms? I will try to accommodate if it’s within my means.

If he wanted something outside of her budget, she might need to make a requisitioning request to YoRHa, but they tended not to ask too many questions when she was the one putting in the order. One of the perks of her unique position.

There was a slight delay before the next reply came.

Hm… how about… a kiss?

She stared. She blinked. She reread it, and stared again. What?! It took her a solid several nanoseconds to come to terms with what he was suggesting, and as she did she could feel her face heating up at the, the utter gall of this man...

And then she realized that she was blushing about a kiss. She tried to subdue her reaction, only to go even redder as the combined shame and anger left her systems overheating.

Before she had a chance to even think about how to write back, she received another message.

Oh my god, your face! Oh you should’ve seen it. I’m going to remember this moment forever, oh my god…!

(She couldn’t see it, but she had a very deep suspicion that Cain was laughing himself to tears right now, and suddenly she changed her mind: she was not at all okay with Cain spying on her if this is how he planned to take advantage. This was just petty.)

Okay, okay, don’t be mad, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t ask for something like that as payment. But I am lonely in this empty Tower. :( If you grace me with your presence, that would be more than payment enough!

I promise I’ll make it worth your while :D

She gave herself a moment more to recover her dignity after that childish prank, and then considered the offer. It read like a trap, and if it were anyone else she’d think it was a trap, but…

Cain had already had her at his mercy once. And that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stab her in the back, but… this was 9S. She liked to think she could still read him well enough to gather his intentions. Even this shameless, semi-psychotic version of him. And he seemed earnest to her.

Which didn’t make him any less dangerous or volatile. But she thinks she can trust him at his word, as far as that goes.

So, with less hesitation then she probably should have, she found herself once again sprinting towards the giant eye-sore of a Tower than seemed to have buried itself so suddenly and irrevocably into the landscape, and into their lives.

---

The door to the Tower opened readily for her, as it had on her past two visits. She wondered, in a distant and distracted way, if it opened especially for her, or if Cain just left the door unlocked by default. As the door closed behind her, she was reminded of a carnivorous plant -- all open and inviting so that it could chew and digest its prey.

Cain unsettled her deeply, but there was something about this Tower that went beyond that, something strange and other. They still didn't have an explanation for how it had appeared so suddenly, either. The Tower’s interior moved. It was evidenced by the stone-like fragments which floated lazily through the air, but also in the subtle changes to the layout between each visit. For tactical purposes, 2B took care to memorize the floorplan of all the places she visited, but the Tower’s rooms shifted in ways that made her map obsolete.

Such were her thoughts as she entered through the door, into the unfamiliar antechamber. She didn’t have much opportunity to consider the latest layout, however, before a voice drew her attention.

“2B, you came!”

She turned in an instant, smooth motion to face the sound, hand going reflexively to her sword hilt. She was less surprised to see Cain there, stepping out from the shadows, and more surprised that she hadn’t noticed him.

Cain made an aborted motion towards her, arm outstretched, but stopped when she jerked back reflexively. He grimaced guilty at her reaction, and withdrew his arm to his side, where he fidgeted his hands together restlessly. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I keep forgetting,” he said morosely.

2B was left with the surreal feeling that something had been communicated without her intention or knowledge. Combined with the earlier jump-scare, she felt uneasy and off-kilter. She met his gaze (uncovered by a blindfold, still strange, still jarring) and tried to read what she could.

Carefully, with great intention, she removed her hand from her weapon and brought it to her side. A loose, neutral posture, to project a veneer of casualness that she didn’t feel. “Cain,” she said in greeting. “You said you had answers?”

Cain’s mouth twitched into a bitter smile. “I have all sorts of answers, yeah, but you may not like them. I sure didn’t.”

2B was quite certain that what she “liked” had never factored into her job.

“It doesn’t matter, I need to know. What is this place, Cain?”

“I told you before, it’s a place I inherited by chance. The original owners are long gone.”

“Were those original owners the ones responsible for your… condition?" she pried.

Cain nodded, “Yep.”

A solid confirmation this time. She hadn’t forgotten his vague answers from before, however. “What do you mean by ‘gone’? Can you say for certain that they no longer present a threat?”

Cain opened his mouth to respond, then paused. Closed his mouth. Brought his hand to his chin and thought about it. Opened his mouth again. “Well, no, not when you put it that way,” he admitted.

This did nothing to alleviate 2B’s concern. She leveled him with her most unimpressed stare.

“I’m working on it!” he protested defensively. “I have it under control.”

2B was not convinced. “You said they’re gone, but are they still threatening you? Are they controlling you somehow?”

“No!” he denied heatedly. “No, that’s completely… they don’t know I’m even alive. Well, this me, at least.”

Her mind honed in the casual admission. “What do you mean by ‘this’ you. Are there others?” she demanded.

Cain waved a hand dismissively. “Not like that. I meant the other me. You know.”

“...9S.” It was both an answer and a form of address. Calling the name which Cain had given up, but was still his.

Cain smiles ruefully in confirmation.

The reminder that her 9S had someway, somehow, become this left an unpleasant lump in her throat. Because for all that he had been civil to her in their interactions, she couldn’t forget how he acted before, how unhinged he was. She could still see hints of that madness in his lopsided, too-wide grin and in the soft red glow of his eyes.

She had let herself get distracted again. For all Cain had told her, he’d said nothing of substance. She couldn’t ignore that. “You act like this is a threat you need to face yourself, but it’s not. If this presents a threat to android-kind, or to YoRHa, then we won’t let it stand. Tell me, who did this to you?”

Cain looked back at her, listening seriously, all trace of humor gone from his face. “...I don’t want to tell you,” he finally admitted.

2B felt a surge of frustration at the blatant dismissal. “Why not?” she demanded.

“Because I’m afraid of what happens if I do. If they know you know, if you find out… then they’ll kill you. It’ll be just like last time.”

The ominous declaration resounded in the room. 2B couldn’t bring herself to dismiss it as melodrama, because she’d never seen Cain look as serious as he did now. But she also couldn’t back down here. “If I’m in danger, then I need to know. I can protect myself better if I’m informed,” she argued calmly, levelly.

“Shut up. Shut UP,” Cain yelled. “YOU can’t protect yourself at ALL you FuCkiNg LiAR.”

2B had very clearly said the wrong thing. Or else Cain’s madness had slipped past whatever hold he had on it. She began to edge away carefully, but Cain wasn’t done.

“Did you even TRY to live or did you just aim for the first swoRd that looked cOnvEnient, so you could stAb your hearT out and LEaVe mE beHinD?!”

She didn’t understand. His words made no sense. But that wasn’t important. Establish safe distance from threat, secure escape route – he might be able to lock the door, she couldn’t count on that for an exit–

“Are you in such a hurry to DIE?? What the HELL is wrong with you?? I’m just tRyiNG to PROTECT yoU.”

She still hadn’t identified the white substance, hadn’t categorized its properties. Could she cut through it? How thick were the walls? She sent a silent command to her pod to analyze the wall density. Material appears self-repairing anyway, so unsuitable as an escape–

“2B please, you need to live, you HAVE to and–and WHY WON’T you LOOK AT ME?!?”

She did, at that. Met his eyes. Mentally, she was still running calculations, still braced for a fight. Not the right time yet, hold ground.

“I… fuck. Shit. No. No no no no, I’m sorry, I… that’s unfair, it wasn’t you I can’t… But I just need to know, why couldn’t she have waited? I was right there, I could’ve done something, could’ve saved her if I’d had a chance, but now she’s gone and I’ll never know why.”

Mood swings, she categorized. Rapid onset of anger as well as grief. Emotional regulation disorder caused by a software malfunction, possibly a virus.

“I’m sorry. I promised you answers, didn’t I? You wanted to know… something. You wanted to know… my disease?” He gestured to his eyes, which were glowing vividly.

Lack of lucidity, she categorized. Possibly more vulnerable in this state. Might be able to win in a fight, but risky without a partner as backup.

“You don’t have it. You’re fine. You’re safe, I made sure. Even if everyone else gets sick, you two won’t. So you don’t need to worry.” He frowned. “I’m not making any sense, am I? Are you– you are 2B, right? You’re not A2?”

He trailed off, muttering softly to himself, growing more and more still as the red light in his eyes died down. And then he slouched forward and stopped moving altogether.

Moments passed. For an uncountably long second, neither android moved.

Just as 2B was about to move, Cain jerked upright. “Jeez, ouch. Hard resets are no fun,” he complained, shaking out his limbs experimentally. “But I guess sometimes you have to turn it off and then on again.” He looked around, and then saw her, and his eyes widened with surprise. “You’re… still here.”

She already calculated several thousand scenarios for escape. The door is simplest, but failing that she can ascend the Tower – it had gaps one could fall through, jump through. Her pod would ensure a safe landing.

“You should go, you should… I’m sorry you had to see that. You should go.”

She really should. But she didn’t. “You promised me an answer. It wasn’t the Resistance man. Who was it.” Because as frightening as Cain was, she still had a mission to fulfill.

Cain crossed his arms and gave her a considering look. “You want to know who’s fault it is that I’m like this? Who did this to my brain?”

“Yes,” she confirmed impatiently.

“Well you won’t have to look far. It’s all YoRHa’s fault.”

“Be serious!” she growled, “YoRHa would never create…” A monster, a threat, something like you.

No, they would.

“YoRHa would never create something they couldn’t control,” she finished, and she can’t quite conceal the bitterness that seeped into her tone.

Cain gave a non-committal hum. “Well, they were trying to kill me. It just… didn’t quite work how they intended.” He scowled a bit, directing his gaze at his shoes.

That, she would believe.

“Although technically,” he amended, “it was the Council of Humanity that did it. YoRHa was just a pawn. I’ve gotta say though, a virus is a terrible way to go. It’s… sloppy. And painful.”

A virus. Someone tried to kill 9S with a virus -- of course that wouldn’t work, he’s a Scanner and their most advanced hacker to date. She… doesn’t remember that happening though.

Wait, no, why was she taking this at face value. “You’re insane. Why would I believe you.”

“I’m only a bit insane. Side effect of the virus. I couldn’t completely purge it, so instead I set up a web of self-repair functions and redundancies – I’m basically constantly rebuilding myself while my brain tries to eat itself alive." He offered a cocky grin. “I’m probably the only one who could pull it off.”

“...Isn’t that painful?” 2B asked without meaning to. Because how could he smile about this?

Cain’s smile fell for just a moment, before he put it back in place. “I’m used to it,” he denied. “Besides, it’s not all bad. The infection lets me break into a lot of backdoors that were previously inaccessible. It’s fundamentally a hive mind, and I can access it and use it. The virus doesn’t control me anymore. I control the virus.”

2B scowled. “You didn’t look very in control earlier.”

Cain grimaced at the reminder, but didn’t deny it. He averted his gaze guiltily. “Yeah… sorry ‘bout that.”

2B was just about done with this bullshit. “Saying sorry doesn’t excuse your behavior.” She shook her head in disapproval. “I came here looking for answers, and all you’ve done is level baseless accusations against YoRHa.”

Cain outright scoffed at that. “Oh, because you’re such a fan of the company. I know you, 2B. You don’t trust YoRHa any more than I do. You just stand behind them because you have nothing else.” Cain grinned menacingly, leaning towards her. His eyes were glowing red, but his gaze remained eerily lucid and piercing. “You know best of all how much of a rotten fruit that place is, shiny on the outside but on the inside? It’s all maggots,” he said with a cheerful giggle.

Abruptly he dropped the humor from his voice. His voice went cold and serious. “I may not have proof about who I am, and what’s happened to me, but believe me this: if you value your life, don’t stay in YoRHa. They killed me, they killed you, and one of these days it will stick.”

The pronouncement chilled 2B to her core, haunting and full of prophecy. Her body shivered involuntarily and it had nothing to do with temperature.

She shook her head, wishing she could unhear the words, but the seeds of doubt were planted, and his accusations against YoRHa were so similar to her own persistent doubts that she couldn’t shake it off. She tried to tell herself that he was just saying whatever he wanted to shake her faith, to encourage sedition. But the more she tried to bolster her belief in YoRHa and its cause, the more aware she was that her faith was a weak, crumbling thing.

“I should go,” she said softly.

Cain smiled peacefully back at her. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Even if YoRHa were to kill you, I wouldn’t let you die. So don’t worry, okay?”

2B felt her skin crawl. If that was Cain’s idea of comfort, it had the opposite effect. Without another word of goodbye, she turned to exit the Tower. Mercifully, the door let her out without issue.

Once she’d gotten a short distance from the Tower, she distantly noticed she had reception again. Only moments later, she got an incoming phone call. She answered it.

“2B, I finally got through!” spoke a feminine voice. “You received an urgent summon from the base, and I wasn’t sure what to do if I couldn’t get through… oh, this is 6O by the way. Obviously.”

2B felt somewhat calmed by the familiar babbling of her Operator, until she registered the content of the message. “A summons?”

“Yes. You’ve been instructed to drop whatever you’re doing, and report to the Commander. Um. Immediately.”

Ending U: [U]nsettling communication

Chapter Text

2B’s mind was whirling as she walked the familiar halls of the Bunker. It had been… oddly long since she’d been here. Without realizing it, she’d gotten used to the vibrant colors of the surface world. The Bunker, in contrast, seemed so dull.

She passed by dozens of familiar faces -- people she knew the designations of, but had never had a real conversation with. How much did she really know about any of them?

In a daze, she didn’t quite realize she’d made it to the Commander’s office until she was being called in. “Enter, 2B.” The door opened automatically in front of her as an invitation.

Mechanically, 2B stepped into the room. The Commander sat at a large executive desk -- grey, of course, like everything else. There were no personal items decorating the service. It was nearly entirely bare; all reports were submitted digitally, so the desk was more of a status symbol than anything else. A sign of the Commander’s absolute authority in this space.

She gestured from her large, ostentatious office chair to a smaller chair in front of the desk. “Please, sit.”

2B sat. Her swords were unequipped, as a show of deference, so her back was flush with the stiff chair back.

“Do you know why you’re here?” asked the Commander.

“No,” replied 2B. “I was instructed to come immediately, so I did. No other details were given.”

“I’ve called you here to discuss your recent mission.”

2B’s brows furrowed slightly, but her expression remained otherwise placid. “My apologies. We managed to locate the traitors, but they escaped. Rest assured that we are still looking for them. They won’t get away.”

The Commander looked back at her, stone-faced. For all that she was the only one at YoRHa not to wear a blindfold or a veil, her expression was no easier to read. “I’m sure they won’t,” she agreed neutrally. “But that’s not why I called you here. I’m referring to your other mission.”

A flash of panic streaked through 2B, although she gave no outward indication.

“Your report is overdue by several weeks,” the Commander admonished. She tapped a fingernail against the desk in a slow rhythm. “That isn’t like you.”

2B felt her pulse involuntarily quicken. The Commander’s gaze felt as heavy as rocks.

The Commander held out the silence a moment longer, before finally breaking into a small, shallow smile. “So I decided to take your report here in person.” Her voice was gentle, but the words were barbed thorns.

The sudden shift in topic had 2B feeling off-guard and uneasy. In an effort to regain her footing, she clarified, “You mean the investigation of the Tower?” Her throat felt dry.

The Commander’s smile widened at this, but it didn't reach her eyes. “Yes, exactly. We here in the Bunker have been quite curious what you found, as our remote investigations have revealed nothing.”

2B highly doubted that. The Bunker made a habit of finding things out. The only question was how much they knew.

It took her shockingly long to recognize the feeling running down her spine as guilt. She was afraid, because although her actions had been well-intentioned and she’d always prioritized her mission and YoRHa, she realized now that at some point she’d deviated from the condoned procedure. She wasn’t sure how her actions would be received.

“I’m still gathering data,” she responded. “I didn’t want to submit a report before verifying what we found. Misinformation could be dangerous.”

The Commander listened placidly. “I understand. However, I believe limited information is better than none at all. If you share your data, we can evaluate its… accuracy.”

2B realized with sudden clarity that she can’t share her findings. Because out of context her consorting with the enemy, and her failure to kill him, might be misconstrued. It appeared... treasonous.

Before 2B could decide what to say, what was safe to share, the Commander spoke up again as if reading her thoughts. “I understand that I may have put you on the spot. If it helps I’ve already heard most of the details already. I merely need you to confirm a few things.”

This time, 2B couldn’t quite stop the audible intake of breath that escaped her lips. She schooled herself immediately, but her back still felt unnaturally stiff. She had to forcibly will her shoulders to relax, because showing discomfort here was all but an admission of guilt, and she hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about. Her meetings with Cain were a calculated risk to eliminate a greater threat.

“Yes,” continued the Commander, “we’ve already called in 9S earlier. His report was both fascinating and concerning.”

Interrogating suspects separately, seeing if they’d give the same answers. A classic technique for rooting out traitors. That’s why she wasn’t warned of the purpose of this meeting in advance, so she didn’t have a chance to compare stories with 9S and -- she wasn’t a traitor, dammit!

Think, calm down. 9S couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t. So she should be fine if she told the truth too. He hadn’t witnessed any of her… private rendezvous, so it shouldn’t appear too incriminating.

“Did you know that we do regular screening of our backup files?” said the Commander conversationally. “As part of our regular checks for data corruption, we also flag any files containing certain keywords.”

Fuck. Her emails. They went through the company servers. Had one of the messages to Cain raised a red flag? She’d been careful of her wording, but he might not have been…

“Indeed. I was very alarmed to notice this file was contained in 9S’s latest data upload.”

Her thoughts ground to a halt. Wait, 9S?

It took her longer than it should’ve to look at the data shared by the Commander -- encrypted to prevent redistribution, and programmed to auto-delete shortly after receipt. She opened it, and the words were damningly familiar:

>>>

[Top Secret] YoRHa Disposal - Nier Automata
[Project 0 3-0 1 : Disposal of YoRHa]

(Note that this information is classified as Level-SS, meaning that it must not be disclosed to anyone involved in the YoRHa project, including the Commander of the Bunker.)

The backdoor of the Bunker has been set to open once the time approaches to switch to new models when enough combat data has been collected. The Bunker will be disposed of by having it be deliberately attacked by machines. At this time, all materials regarding the YoRHa project, including this document, will be lost, and falsification of the information that mankind still resides on the moon will be complete.

>>>

2B stared at the file in a daze. How? How had she forgotten about this? It had all seemed so important in the moment, but then Cain had reappeared and attacked them, and she’d focused on that. She’d all but forgotten about that library and it’s cursed secrets.

“Of course, the contents of this document are disturbing, if true. I do not appreciate the insinuation that there are parts of YoRHa’s workings which were deliberately hidden from me.” The Commander's voice lowers dangerously, and her eyes hold a fiery rage and the promise of retribution. “I am working to confirm the validity of this document. Discreetly.”

A deep breath, and the rage is hidden beneath a facade of calm. “But that’s not why I called you here, 2B, no, 2E.” The Commander looked 2B dead in the eye, and asked point blank, “Why haven’t you killed 9S yet?”

2B should respond, she really should, but this was all too much. She had one shock after another, and she can’t even feel the fear from before. She just felt numb and confused.

“This document proves undeniably that 9S knew, or reasonably suspected, that humanity’s survival on the moon was, in its wording, ‘falsified’. Were you aware that 9S possessed this information?”

“I was,” 2B choked out numbly.

“I see. How long were you aware of this security leak?”

The honest answer escaped from 2B without her conscious choice, “Since the beginning, when he found the files. The first day the Tower appeared.”

“That long. Indeed, I was worried it might be like that. That’s why I arranged for your recent mission. Three dangerous traitors, all highly trained Type-B battle units specialized in close combat, would naturally be challenging opponents for a Scanner. You might say his very life was in danger.”

The Commander placed her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on her folded hands. For the first time in this meeting, the disapproval in her gaze was undisguised. “Why is 9S still alive?”

Ending V: [V]ictim Blaming

Chapter Text

“Why is 9S still alive?”

2B’s heart beat faster. She hadn’t expected this. She should have expected this.

Why was 9S still alive? Because 2B didn’t want to kill him. 2B never wanted to kill 9S. But she did anyway, every time.

So why was he alive this time? What had changed?

“They were trying to kill me.”

Nothing had changed. Her mission still bid her to dispose of 9S. In addition to having access to confidential information, he’d been showing signs of mental instability. It was her duty to ensure he was reset before he could do harm to YoRHa’s cause.

“If you value your life, don’t stay in YoRHa.”

Unbidden, Cain’s words came to mind. Echoing in her brain like a whisper in her ear. A snake’s silver tongued temptations. She must not pay them any mind.

“You don’t trust YoRHa any more than I do. You just stand behind them because you have nothing else.”

She mustn't let herself feel. She mustn’t doubt. She was a soldier. A soldier who was built to follow orders.

(Except she had always felt so, so much.)

Nothing had changed? No. The thing that had changed… was her.

Carefully, her thoughts not yet fully formed, she asked, “What are your plans to combat the information leak?”

The Commander frowned. “That is not necessary for you to know.”

Something was building inside her. She didn’t know what it was yet. She didn’t think she could stop it. “Even if I killed 9S now, the information still in the Tower presents an ongoing threat. Do you know how that information was leaked? Or by who?”

The Commander repeated more harshly, “You do not require that information.”

No. She didn’t, did she? So she had never asked. She’d let herself fall into the role of the perfect soldier, became so adept at keeping her head down that she hadn’t even questioned the necessity of it. But she was questioning it now.

Spine straight, voice firm but diplomatic, she objected, “Why is it necessary to kill 9S at this time? His services as my partner are vital towards stopping the threat this Tower presents. I cannot afford to wait for him to retrain himself."

The Commander’s expression tightened, her mouth flattened into a hard line. In a warning tone, she reprimanded, “You overstep yourself, soldier. That is not your call to make.”

She should stand down here. She must stand down here, or she risked losing everything she’d worked so hard for all these years. It would be the utmost of foolishness, the kind of reckless act only 9S would do. And yet, maybe he’d rubbed off on her, because she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“What purpose could this possibly serve? At first, I understood it was part of the development process, that we needed to ensure the 9S model was stable. It hurt, but I accepted that the risk of a new model going rogue was too great. But it’s been cycles. 9S is more developed and stable than half of the YoRHa units, his performance record has been flawless. Why are we still doing this? When does it stop?” 2B was on her feet now – it was a blatant act of disrespect towards her commanding officer, but she barely registered it.

Something like sympathy flashed through the Commander’s eyes, there and gone in an instant, but no such softness leaked into her words as she firmly refuted. “I don’t order this because I prefer it, but it is a necessary evil, so that YoRHa can endure.”

“You know best of all how much of a rotten fruit that place is, shiny on the outside but on the inside? It’s all maggots.”

Inside 2B a frightening conclusion was emerging, something forbidden that she mustn’t acknowledge or even consider, connections were being made that she couldn’t unsee. Before the thought was even fully formed, she heard herself ask, low and dangerous, “Why was it necessary? Was it so that you could use the corpses for experiments?”

The Commander appeared confused. Carefully, she answered, “The development team did conduct post mortem analysis on several of the 9S bodies, to improve the stability of later versions. You knew this already.”

“Right, to view and analyze the log before disposal and recycling. But that’s not all they did, was it?” 2B accused, voice tight and strangled, “No, they revived the bodies and subjected them to tests. It would have been excruciatingly painful for the android in question, but I suppose that’s a small price to pay for the Glory of Mankind.” She spat out the mantra like an insult.

Her hand tightened around the familiar grip of her sword. She couldn’t recall when she’d summoned it.

The Commander stood to her feet, properly alarmed now. “2B, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t try to deny it. I have first-hand information that YoRHa was responsible for the creation of a variant 9S model,” informed 2B. Her grip on her sword was so tight she could feel it creak. “Was he meant to be a weapon? How many prototypes did you go through in the process? And how many of the ones that I ‘killed’ were used as your experiments??”

“2B stop, calm down!” The Commander retreated slowly, her hand groping for something at her side. “You’re acting irrational! Lay down your weapon and submit for a full inspection.”

2B continued undeterred. She couldn’t stop now, she didn’t want to stop. The emotions she’d been repressing were welling up and erupting like a fountain. Anger. Grief. Self-loathing. She felt like she would choke on them.

“What the hell was any of it for?? I believed I was doing the right thing, the necessary thing to keep him and all of us safe!” 2B raised up her sword, as if drawing a line between her and the Commander. She softened her voice, but her words were no less cutting, “...it turns out that was just as much horseshit as the rest of YoRHa’s values. Did you need to win the war that badly? What justification can you possibly offer for resurrecting and experimenting on the YoRHa android which YOU ordered me to KILL???”

There was a noise outside. The thumping of many harried footsteps could be heard in the distance, and it was drawing closer. Still, 2B did not move. Her sword was still held up to the Commander, demanding an answer.

The Commander raised her hands up in a gesture of surrender. In her right hand she held a button -- a panic button. She had called for help, and it was already on its way.

The Commander spoke in a carefully neutral tone. “2B, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

2B’s eyes shook, although it was unclear if the expression could be read past the blindfold. “...I wish I could believe that.” She lowered her sword and took a step back.

“I’m telling you one more time, 2B. Stand down. If you surrender voluntarily, I promise to minimize the military sanctions which you will face for threatening a superior officer.” The footsteps were very close now. The Commander was stalling for time, and 2B’s time was almost up.

2B dropped her gaze in an uncharacteristic display of hesitance. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this went on behind your back. I… don’t know if that would be better or worse.”

2B took a deep, resolute breath, and looked up at the Commander, “There’s something rotten in YoRHa. If you have any integrity, then search out the corruption in your own house.”

The doors to the office burst open, and half a dozen heavily armored YoRHa units stormed inside and surrounded the evident threat, guns ready and poised to fire.

In front of this audience, the Commander proclaimed, “Unit 2B, you are under arrest for crimes of treason. Pending a full trial, your rights to cognizance are hereby suspended.” She raised a hand into the air and, as a signal, brought it down. On cue, the poised soldiers released a barrage of gunfire.

Amidst this, 2B suddenly felt oddly calm. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. This was it, wasn’t it? There was no going back from this. All those years of following orders, of being the perfect soldier, and now she’d botched it all up in a moment of passion.

Now she’d been marked a traitor. No one would trust her again.

No one would trust her with orders again.

She couldn’t help the wide smile that crept on her lips.

“I’m sorry, Commander, Operator,” she whispered to herself. With a flourish, 2B ripped off her blindfold and threw it into the air. Using the momentary distraction as cover, she switched herself with a Decoy and dashed for the door. The ploy didn’t last more than a few seconds, but that’s all she needed. Sword in hand, she cut down the androids between her and the door – aiming for the legs, to immobilize but not kill – and slipped through the opening.

Emerging into the hallway, she could see more security squads pouring in. The alarms overhead blared a glaring red. The base came alive as if in response to a full on invasion. She was now vastly outnumbered in the most secure fortress known to android kind. A head-on fight would be suicide, she’d have to stage an escape – but the space-ready vehicles would be heavily secured against theft.

The tendrils of a plan begin to form in her mind. It could work – but it wouldn’t be something she could pull off alone. Still smiling, she continued her dash through the Bunker halls.

---

9S was feeling miserable.

First of all, 2B was gone. She’d left after getting a phone call about some secret mission that was apparently above his clearance. And he got it, really – 2B was a higher rank than him, she had a higher clearance level to match. But he wasn’t happy about it. But then a few minutes later he got an email saying she’d be gone for who-knows-how long, and that he shouldn’t wait up, which was… totally not cool. She could have at least said goodbye in person.

So he’d sulked for a bit. So sue him. He’d done what she said – “keep an eye out for the deserters and attempt to locate them, but do not engage.” He opened a channel to scan all major and minor communication frequencies. Some were public, like radio stations, but others were private lines so he had to hack into them with his decryption algorithms, which occupied him for like… ten seconds. Then he set up a regex to check for any relevant keywords that could pertain to the fugitives in question.

If he got lucky, he could spy on their interpersonal messages, but it was more likely that he’d find a rumor that could be a sighting. Of course, it was even more likely that he would find nothing at all.

He set up a script to automate the whole process, so that’s just a subroutine running in the back of his head right now. He can basically tune it out. Which meant he was now done with the task 2B asked of him, which left him more or less unoccupied for the next – however long it would take for 2B to finish her thing.

He was left alone, twiddling his thumbs at the Resistance Camp. And being alone led to bad thoughts. He was still angry with 2B – because killing their fellow YoRHa comrades, even if they had deserted, should not be their go-to solution! But he was also missing her terribly.

She should at least have the decency to stick around so he could be angry with her in person.

He had eventually crawled out of his funk enough to head over to the pool just outside of camp and start fishing. Just to have something to do with his hands. Meanwhile he went over several practice arguments in his head for when 2B returned.

Several hours later, he had fished up several pieces of trash, and one robotic fish. Which – why were there fish Machines? They served no obvious tactical advantage in the Android-Machine war, didn’t seem to have any capabilities as a spy or a weapon. They just… acted like fish. When had they become this spread out? What were they doing to the existing underwater ecosystem? He was pretty sure no one had researched this before. Maybe while he was on Earth, he could conduct a study…? Take some samples, accumulate some data during his visits.

He was interrupted from his plans to formulate a machine sea life research experiment by an incoming phone call. Thinking it was 2B, he eagerly answered, but his hopes were dashed when it was his Operator on the other line. Not that he didn’t like his Operator! She was great, really. Just she only ever talked to him when he had work to do, or was in trouble for some reason.

And it seemed now was no exception. “You’re recalling me to base?” he echoed, aghast.

In a cool deadpan, 21O replied, “As I said, you are being summoned for an in-person report to the Commander. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you had completed your reports on-time, as I repeatedly reminded you.”

With a groan, 9S rebutted, “But it was 2B’s job to fill out the report for our joint mission. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why do I need to file a report too?”

“It’s necessary for filing purposes”, recited 21O in the tone of someone who’d had this argument a dozen times before, “and having two overlapping reports ensures greater accuracy. But that’s besides the point, 2B hasn’t turned in her report either. Command is very eager for news.”

Wait, what? “That can’t be right. 2B, late for submitting a report? You sure it’s not a bug on your end? Maybe the packet got dropped during submission,” he said with a laugh. Because this was 2B. She didn’t do late.

“As I am not her assigned Operator, I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” she said diplomatically. “Regardless, you are requested at base immediately. You have an appointment with the Commander in 15 minutes, and we will both be very cross if you are late.” She hung up without waiting for a reply, but she knew him well enough to know the threat would hold. He didn’t need yet another coworker to be mad at him right now.

It’s only after the phone call ended that 9S remembered he was supposed to be waiting for 2B to get back. But, well… she’d ditched him first. And the Bunker had reception, so be able to find him whenever she finished her super secret thing.

Shoot, he considered optimistically, maybe by the time he got back she’d have finished, and this would all be behind them.

Ending W: [W]orkplace Crisis

Chapter Text

// The Bunker, 30 minutes before 2B's denouncement //

The meeting went fine, as far as 9S was concerned. He arrived on time, just barely. Sure, his commander had some very pointed questions to ask, and she was wearing a perpetual frown the whole time, but when wasn't she?

He stumbled over his answers, explained his actions over the past week or so, recently where he'd been and what he'd seen. He of course mentioned the psychopath, identity thieving machine by the name of Cain. He denounced it vigorously, highlighting its falsehoods, because the last thing he needed was someone at YoRHa command associating him with… that.

The Commander merely nodded, and had surprisingly few questions on the matter. Whatever. That was easier for him, he'd happily get this over with as soon as possible. He answered the few questions she had in as much detail as possible.

He even made mention of his theories regarding machine fish, and the implications for spyware and ecological destruction. He got kind of excited as he started discussing his research proposal.

The Commander's gaze was as cold as ice, as she refuted “Please stick to the important details, 9S.” Chagrined, he ducked his head in shame. Stupid. He should’ve known no one would care. Research was a waste of manpower, no use in the war unless it had proven tactical benefit.

Fish could have tactical benefits! But apparently he’s the only one who thought so.

Thoroughly rejected, he finished the rest of his report with disenthused, obligatory accuracy.

When he finished, he waited to be dismissed, trying not to seem too eager to be gone.

“Thank you for report 9S. One more thing, before you go,” appended the Commander. 9S, already halfway out of his seat, sat back down.

“There are some technical issues that need your expertise. It shouldn't take long. Please wait in your personal quarters and I’ll have someone bring you the files for review.”

9S grumbled a bit, on principle. He wasn't a workaholic like 2B, he didn't enjoy having random tasks assigned to him. But he made his way to his quarters anyway, because orders were orders.

The Bunker was bustling as usual, dense with Android activity. It was a night and day difference from Earth, where the Android encampments were sparse and largely deserted. He spotted a couple girls gossiping in the hall; he offered them a cheesy compliment, and to which one of them rolled their eyes but the other one giggled with a light blush. Nice.

Gosh, he was probably so behind on the latest workplace gossip. He should swing by the Command Center later to chat up the Operators, they were always up to date on that stuff.

…Or he could go there now. The meeting had been stressful and he desperately wanted to decompress a bit. The files would still be there when he got back.

—

As 9S made his way into the large open room which served as the Command Center, he was pleased to spot a familiar face seated at one of the computers.

“Heeey, 21O!” He said in greeting.

The Operator at the computer tilted towards him, but her gaze never left her screen. “9S. What are you doing here?” she asked in her usual deadpan.

“What, I can’t come see my favorite Operator?” he offered with a grin.

“I don’t have time for a social visit, 9S. I have other field agents to watch out for, and data to process.”

9S felt his mood falter a bit at her cold demeanor, his grin slipping into a sheepish expression. “Ah, right, sorry.”

“Moreover,” she added after a moment, “your compliment is meaningless given that I am your only assigned Operator.”

And his grin returned full force, because that? That was absolutely a joke. 21O was totally bantering with him. “Yeah, yeah. Look I, uh… got you something from Earth.”

Now 21O did turn to face him. “Oh?”

“Here.” He pulled out a thin object from his pocket. “It’s an old world writing implement. A pencil, they called it. I found it in a ruined shopping center and figured it might be a good souvenir for you since you like practical things, and all.”

She took the proffered item and examined it with a bland expression. “You realize that I have no use for physical notes, and even if I did, there’s nothing here to write on, yes? But… thank you. I appreciate the thoughtfulness of the gesture.” She set the pencil down carefully on her otherwise barren desk. “In all seriousness, I do have work to do, and so do you as I recall. Please don’t put it off.” With that, she turned back to her desk, signaling an end to the conversation.

9S waited until he’d walked away, totally dignified, before he let himself make a small fistpump. That was totally smooth, nice. Maybe he should get something for 6O too, next time? Would that be weird? Maybe he should ask 2B what her operator liked. Or, wait, scratch that, maybe he should ask 6O what 2B would like as a gift?

His musings were forcibly interrupted by a blaring alarm. Panic lights flooded the bunker with red light, as the room descended into chaos.

Androids were shouting over each other, troops in full armor were marching out the door in huddled groups, guns held at the ready. The once-calm room had instantly become a war zone.

9S could do little but stand there stupidly, being jostled back and forth by the defense teams who didn’t much care who they trampled in their urgency. His mind tried to catch up to the reality of what was happening.

There was a hostile in the Bunker.

Oh shit.

9S briefly recalled from training that he was supposed to find cover and follow the instructions of the nearest officer, but everyone’s shouting and no one’s actually providing any directions. There were evacuation routes – or was it lockdown protocols? Shit, what the heck was he supposed to do here?

Eventually he found an open area of the lower floor where a couple other androids were huddling with fearful expressions, and went to join them. The best thing to do for now, he decided, would be to get out of everyone else’s way and let the trained battle squadrons take care of it. Whatever the disaster was, it had nothing to do with him.

As it happened, his position allowed him an excellent view of a billowing dress and long, heeled boots as a figure leapt over his head to land in the center of the command room floor.

It took a second for recognition to kick in. “2B?!”

Her head snapped towards him like a magnet. “9S.”

And that was all the warning he got before, faster than his eyes could follow, she disappeared and suddenly he was being lifted into the air.

There was a brief sensation of flying, and then of falling. He dimly observed that he was now on the upper, entry floor of the command room. More pressingly, he registered that 2B was holding him. to her chest, her arms looped under his knees and torso in a bridal carry. Before he could process this, he registered one more thing: the armed squadrons in the room had, as one, leveled their guns in their direction.

One of the armored androids spoke. “Stand down and release the hostage. We will not hesitate to shoot you both.”

What the f–

A jolt, a blur of motion, as 2B dashed towards and through the crowd. There’s a barrage of gunfire, but bullets don’t make contact, and in a blur of motion they were out the door and in the hallway.

Breathless, 9S attempted to make some sense of what was happening. “T-two bee, why are you here? What about the alarm–” his question was cut off as they jerked in another direction and 2B jumped off a wall to leap over an approaching squad.

He vaguely recognized the path they were taking through the bunker hallways – dashing past the dorms, and the servers, around the circular hallway of the space station.

Above him, 2B replied quick and haltingly, “No time. Need to reach the Hangar. Can you hack into a flight unit?”

“Wh-yes?” He could do so in his sleep, but why…?

2B did not elaborate further as another squad approached them from the front, swords at the ready.

A creeping sense of comprehension was edging its way into his brain, seeing this targeted assault at him – no, at 2B. It was a thought which should have occurred to him sooner, but it was so antithetical to everything he knew about 2B that his brain couldn't accept it. The alarm. A hostile in the base. 2B needing to hack a flight unit.

As he formulated this thought, 2B shifted him into her shoulder, supporting him with one arm and summoning a sword into her free hand. She slashed into the incoming soldiers, forcing them backwards and deflecting their blows and she danced around them.

(How was she even fighting back? The IFF chip shouldn't allow that, and yet the unfortunate YoRHa who had failed to block her attacks in time were clearly injured.)

2B was the hostile? And she was, what, kidnapping him now, like some distressed damsel??

Maybe none of this was real, and he’s in some bizarre simulated space right now, living out some weird hypothetical scenario. Would he notice the difference? He heard that humans didn’t know when they were dreaming, but he wasn’t human, so…

“9S, activate your pod’s shield program!”

2B’s cry shook 9S from his thought spiral, and without conscious thought he was responding, activating the shield program just in time to block another round of gunfire. A melee units used the opportunity to strike, the sword passing easily through the pod's shield, and 9S flinched in preparation for an attack – that didn't come. The sword was blocked by 2B’s own.

The teamwork came easily and naturally, as familiar as ever. 9S used his two pods in tandem, one to shield and one to provide sporadic cover fire. 2B, meanwhile, carved a path forward with her sword while she carried him through the hallway.

It occurred to him, in a not-quite-real way, that what he was doing probably counted as aiding and abetting. He let out an aborted laugh at the realization, which came out more than a bit hysterical.

“Where are we going?” he asked, half breathless even though he wasn't the one running.

“Up.”

Quick as a whip, 2B veered to the side of the corridor – and slipped into an elevator. Her pod shot behind them, preventing anyone from following as the doors slipped shut.

For the first time since the impromptu kidnapping began, 2B lowered 9S to the ground. She spoke in hasty, urgent tones “I can buy you some time, but I need you to override one of the ships. …Please.”

The “please” was almost a whisper, but 9S heard it all the same. 2B looked him in the eye, searchingly, showing more uncertainty and vulnerability then he had ever seen from her before.

And… oh wow. Her eyes were uncovered. And they were beautiful.

In a daze, he distantly nodded. Because she was right in front of him, breathing the same air and looking at him like he's the only thing left in the world. He'd agree to anything if she asked him like this.

The door opened into the hangar, where a few mechanics looked up in stunned shock. In a moment they were standing, shouting, and reaching for their weapons.

“Go!” she cried.

9S made a dash for the back of the hangar, the area closest to the hangar door that ships could enter and exit by. With a quick glance he considered his options – 2B would need something she knew how to pilot, small enough to be evasive but with enough weapons to fend off pursuit.

There! It wasn't either of their assigned units, but it was the same Ho229 model. It wouldn't accept his credentials without an authorized mission, but as he told 2B, that was no problem. He could jailbreak it.

Behind him he heard a small explosion. He was tempted to look, but he was confident that 2B could handle herself. And she was counting on him to do this!

No one seemed to be paying him much attention, thankfully, so he found a spot with some cover… and… r e a c h e d

****

⬛⬛⬛⬜⚫⬛⬛⬜⬜
⚫⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜
⬜⬛⬛　　⬜⬜⬛
⬜⬛⬜　➤ ┈ ⬛⬛⬜

****

—

2B didn’t think. She didn’t allow herself to think. Moment to moment was life and death, and if she fell here then no one was going to restore her backup.

She steeled herself as she cut down the other YoRHa soldiers who moved to stop her. They were her comrades-in-arm, but right now they were the enemy. She’d made them into her enemy.

Don’t think. Slice. Block. Parry. Buy more time, keep them occupied.

She fired a warning bolt from her Pod towards a few androids who strayed a bit too close to where 9S had gone, taunting them back into the fight.

It seemed like minutes before she saw one of the far flight units rise a fraction into the air. That had to be 9S. A fierce thrill of satisfaction and pride bloomed in her chest. She dodged an incoming attack, and carefully left a mirage in the midst of her after-images which would distract them, if only for a moment. She didn’t need long, and her next step would be far from subtle.

2B dashed across the hanger as swiftly and stealthily as she was able.

It seemed like minutes before she saw a wave from the corner of her periphery, and recognized the spot of white hair peeking from behind cover. Good, she’d bought enough time.

2B quickly swapped out her Laser program with Decoy. She used her larger sword to slice through a nearby storage crate. It scattered its contents, acting as makeshift caltrops and providing a modicum of cover for her to swap out with a Decoy. The decoy acted as flashy as possible, whole her real self snuck past the circle of Android combatants.

The Decoy wouldn't hold up under scrutiny: it was designed to fool machines, not highly-trained androids. It was harder to tell it was a fake in the chaos of battle. Even so, she's bought maybe a minute of distraction, at most.

It would have to be enough.

2B made a dash for 9S's, moving almost faster than the eye could see. She found 9S hiding just behind a flight unit, looking warily towards the fight but mercifully unharmed. She appeared right in front of him, coming to a stop so suddenly she seemed to have appeared from thin air.

9S let out an (adorable) yelp, and might have fallen backwards if she hadn't reflexively grabbed his hips to stabilize him.

“You did it?” It was hardly a question, with the flight suit lit up and activated beside her, but she nearly sagged in relief anyway when he gave a small nod.

Despite herself, she found herself smiling. “Thank you.”

9S returned her smile with a small one of his own. Then he shook his head. “2B… what’s going on?” he asked, with a bit of a helpless whine.

How could she possibly begin to explain. She had barely had time to process her own actions, and there wasn’t time. “9S. We’re not safe here.”

9S laughed. “Yeah, I noticed, with all of the shooting,” he quipped.

She shook her head. “We were never safe at YoRHa from the start. I have so much I need to tell you, but there’s no time.” She bit her lip, feeling uncommonly nervous, “…If you want to stay, you can say I was threatening you – they’ll let you off lightly. But I’m leaving. I won’t be coming back.”

9S looked at her with something akin to shock. She wished she knew how he was taking this. She was so used to knowing his thoughts, openly offered and shared, but in this moment he felt closed off. Well of course he would be, with her springing this on him out of the blue–

“2B watch out!” 9S shot out a hand, and summoned his droid to create a shield, just in time to deflect a heavy projectile. At the same time, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards the mech. The flight unit obligingly opened up, the cockpit lowering for easy access. 2B allowed herself to be shoved into the cockpit, but 9S didn’t let go, keeping his hold around her waist as the cockpit raised back into the flight unit’s interior.

A mechanical voice alerted, “Authentication recognized. Welcome, pilots 2B and 9S. Commencing departure for planetary transfer.”

2B found herself at a loss. “9S, you didn’t have to– you’ll be throwing away everything and I haven’t even said why.”

9S looked up at her from very, very close. The space in the cockpit was cramped even for one person – with two pilots, their chests were pressed close together and their faces were nearly touching. “Are you serious, 2B? Why would I want to be at YoRHa if you’re not there?”

This close together, it was hard to tell whether it was his heart or her own that was beating like a drum. Maybe it was both. The warmth in her face wasn’t just from the heat of the cabin. “9S…” she didn’t know what to say. The whole day was catching up with her, she hadn’t even been sure she’d survive this long.

“9S, I’m really glad you’re here,” she finally settled on.

His beaming smile in return was so bright, she thought it would be worth tearing down YoRHa to protect it.

Ending X: E[X]odus

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 25

—

For just a second, as the flight unit lifted off, everything was completely weightless, and it felt like freedom.

Then the moment is shattered as a plosive force rammed into their ship from behind, almost shaking them out of the air.

Immediately, 9S was all business. In a realm 2B couldn’t see, he was integrating with the ship’s systems. He narrated aloud, “There are at least three ships on our tail. More incoming, probably. Engaging evasive protocol!”

Almost without thinking, 2B reflexively reached for the controls; 9S was facing her chest and couldn't reach them from that angle. She could tell from the monitoring systems that 9S was digitally controlling the thrusters, so she found the joystick for the guns and started leveling cover fire. The automatic targeting system wouldn't lock onto the fellow YoRHa suits, so she disabled it and aimed manually instead.

The shots mostly missed, but it was enough to force the pursuers to dodge and bought them a small lead. Any space they could gain was precious. The flight unit began to shake once more, but this time she recognized it not as an aftershock from a weapon, but the turbulence of entering atmosphere. The friction from the air shook their unit and created hot, fiery trails behind them.

Whatever 9S was doing with the steering, it seemed to be working. At the current rate, they should be able to land on the planet before they were surrounded or shot out of the sky. And then… she'd think about what came next after.

In some removed part of her brain, 2B felt a thrill of pleasure at how seamlessly they were copiloting in a unit that was never designed for copilots. She anticipated and responded to 9S's maneuvers as if they were of one mind. It made her feel warm all the way to her core.

…Or maybe that was just the atmosphere, still trying to burn their ship out of the sky.

The ground became visible below them, and then they were rushing towards it at amazing speed. For just a moment, in spite of herself, 2B was fearful that they'd crash, but even as she worried so the unit tilted upward, swooping in parallel to the ground and sailing perhaps a hundred feet above the ground.

“I'm going to aim for the forest area, see if we can lose them in the trees and ruins,” said 9S. Right now they were somewhere in the desert, which offered minimal cover.

The flight unit was fast, and in just moments they were out of the desert and into the grasslands. It was there that she felt a jolt, and suddenly they weren't flying – they were falling.

“Shit, they got one of our jets, we're going down, prepare for impact–”

Her teeth rattled from the force of the ship colliding with the ground. Several internal system monitors were blaring at her, protesting structural damage. It was the kind of thing that would certainly have killed an organic life form, but she should be able to walk it off. She hadn't lost any of her major systems.

Of course, this meant that they're now marooned on Earth, in the middle of an empty ruin, without a functional flight suit. She reached for the manual eject button to open the cockpit; at this point, staying in the ship would only make them sitting ducks. She pushed 9S lightly. To her relief, he responded, groaning slightly. He didn't seem severely damaged, either.

“Come on,” she urged, “We have to go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just. Give me a minute.”

An electric voice chirped. “You have approximately 34 seconds before other YoRHa units arrive at this location,” his pod informed.

“Nevermind then,” he said with a sigh. Then both the androids were scurrying out of the cockpit and into the surrounding grasslands.

34 seconds might have been a generous estimate, because across the field 2B could see several flight units landing on rooftops. The firm concrete made for smoother landings and takeoffs, she knew, but it wouldn't take any time at all for the YoRHa soldiers to close in on them from the higher ground.

She looked around desperately for a way out, only to find that in the brief few moments it took to emerge, they'd already been surrounded.

This wasn't good. She drew her sword, prepared to deflect any blasts, but the soldiers seemed content to hold their fire as they waited for the trailing ships to land, increasing their already overwhelming numbers.

She couldn't see a way out. Her analysis engine has always, always been able to find a way out of any situation. It was what her model was known for, what had made them an overwhelming success. But this – she couldn't see a way past this. Was this really as far as her rebellion would go?

No. No, she wouldn't allow this to be for nothing.

—

We're screwed, thought 9S eloquently as he took in the situation at hand. He'd half expected things to go horribly wrong for a while now. Maybe not like this specifically, but he'd had a general sense of doom ever since that Tower had appeared. He'd tried to set up some contingency plans, but they weren't ready and now they never would be. Shit, this was it. They were totally gonna die.

He looked to 2B for some form of assurance. Her expression was grim, and something in his stomach dropped.

“9S, when you see an opening, you need to run,” said 2B in an urgent whisper.

“What about you?”

“I'll stay back and hold them off.” Saying so, she assumed a battle stance, lowering her center of gravity and drawing her short blade.

“2B, no! I'm not abandoning you to die!” 9S protested loudly.

2B met his gaze, her eyes deadly serious. “9S. I don't intend to die here.” It's an assurance, but not enough of one. “But you're not designed for close-quarters fights. You'd only be a liability.”

And that hurt. It hurt because it was true, but also because it wasn't fair – 9S regularly participated in combat against machines, often killing larger threats with his hacking in half the time it would take 2B with her sword. He might not be a combat model, but he could fight.

Under her breath, barely a whisper, 2B added, “And if I die, at least it means something if you survive.”

And suddenly 9S wasn't conflicted anymore – he was angry. “No. No way, 2B. How do you think I'd feel if I find out you died because I ran away? How long do you think I'd even last on my own, afterwards? I need you, 2B. I can't,” he let out a hysterical laugh, bubbling up from all of the emotion he hadn't had time to process, “I can't do this without you. And… and I think you need me too. So I'm not leaving.” He felt bold, in a way that he was probably going to be horribly embarrassed about when he had time to process later. But he also felt right.

2B, for her part, still looked conflicted. Her eyes were watering conspicuously, and she looked so sad and desperate and afraid. Afraid for him, maybe, he dared to wonder.

(Was she always this expressive, under the blindfold? What all had it kept him from seeing?)

2B opened her mouth to say something, possibly another plea for him to go, but before a sound came out, the earth shook under them.

At first, 9S thought it was another bombardment, but it didn't stop shaking. Instead, the rumbling grew and grew in intensity and volume. Was this an earthquake? Was there even a fault line here?

And then there was a high pitched, deafening screech of metal on metal, and the Goliath – the rusted statue that had become a centerpiece for the city ruins – stood up.

Oh shit, 9S thought, we're so dead.

Faintly, he hears a shout from one of the YoRHa androids on the rooftops. There's a burst of motion as those soldiers who had gotten out hastily returned to their ships. 9S knew from experience that the Flight Units were one of the only known ways to defeat a machine Goliath.

He exchanged a worried glance with 2B. Their Flight Unit was still at the other end of the clearing, and in no condition to fight even if they could reach it.

At least, he rationalized, this meant their pursuers were distracted. Maybe if he was lucky, he and 2B could slip out before the Goliath noticed them.

Through all this, the earth continued to rumble as the Goliath shook off the dirt and debris and took its first shaky step forward.

With all this, it took him longer than it should have to notice what else was happening in the clearing.

The other machines in the ruins – easily forgettable thanks to their propensity to only attack when provoked – were also moving. At first, it was barely noticeable, just a bit of twitching and spasming from a nearby cluster. But then it spreads like a wave, and the phenomenon manifests to other machine groups in the area. 9S felt something go cold in his chest with the crushing realization that he had seen this before.

He knew what was about to happen just a second in advance when, as one, the eyes of every machine in the clearing glowed a deep, terrifying red.

Ending Y: Goodbye [Y]oRHa

Chapter Text

While 9S froze under the pressure, 2B didn’t. Swift as a knife, she grabbed him by the wrist and jumped backwards, dodging a blast of incoming fire.

Her tactical subroutines, which had been distressingly, fatalistically silent, were firing on all cylinders. She instantly took in the lay of the land and combatants, and saw – an opening, there! She pulled 9S after her and weaved behind a herd of machines, using them as shields from the onslaught and scanning for the next opening. Behind her, she could hear 9S shouting in fear and protest, but she tuned it out – if he could complain like that, that meant he was fine.

Without letting go of his wrist, she made a dash for the next safe spot – there, under the Goliath. 9S screamed behind her as she ran straight towards the descending leg of the giant, which was now fully excavated from the rubble. She pulled 9S to her chest and dove under the foot just barely sliding to the other side in time to not get crushed. The two melee soldiers from YoRHa who had been on their tail were not so lucky, and she repressed a wince at the sound of bodies being crushed.

They’d be fine, they would just revive again at the base later. She didn’t have that luxury.

Quickly, she jumped to her feet, pulling 9S up after her by the hand. Thankfully, none of the other combatants were insane enough to come near the Goliath and instead the machines and YoRHa both were giving it a wide berth. The dust clouds it kicked up also provided excellent cover, and with luck YoRHa might assume they’d been crushed to death as well.

“2B, you nearly ripped my arm off!” complained 9S, rubbing at the offended shoulder with his free hand, the one which wasn’t interlaced with hers.

“Our models are designed to resist several G forces of tug force on our wrist and arms, for compatibility with Pod rescue programs.” This was a fact which 9S would be well aware of. That aside, “9S, can you disable tracking for both our bodies?”

He looked taken aback by the abrupt topic change. “I mean, yeah. It’d only take a minute.”

“Good, do so.”

“What, now?” he looked above them at the towering Goliath which was actively firing missiles at the YoRHa ships still in the air. “Here??”

“It has to be here, or they’ll know we escaped.” Seeing his worry didn’t abate, she pressed, “The Goliath is strong, but it’s not fast. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.” She squeezed his hand to emphasize her point.

9S bit his lip nervously, but still he nodded. “Okay. I trust you.” And then his eyes got that glazed look, and she knew he was gone.

Hyperalert, she kept them pressed up against the Goliath’s foot, taking advantage of the cover it offered. Outside the makeshift shelter of the giant’s legs, she could still hear heavy fire. The dust cloud was illuminated by flashes of explosions and the barest red glow of beady eyes. The other foot started to rise, and she tracked its progress carefully. The far leg descended with an earth-rattling force, and she dodged over to it just as she felt their own leg begin to rise again as the Goliath lumbered forward.

This process repeated once more, before 9S stirred out of his trance. “It’s done,” he reported.

Efficient as always. She didn’t feel any different, but she’d take his word for it. Now they just had to get out of here, ideally without being seen.

She considered their location relative to the local map data. The forest wasn’t too far, now, and would provide good cover against the vehicles still in the air. If they wanted to dissuade further pursuit, it wasn’t enough to destroy their opponents – they needed to bury their trail as completely as possible. They couldn’t be seen leaving this battlefield. 2B and 9S needed to “die” here.

And they now had two convenient corpses to help sell the lie.

Wordlessly, she beckoned 9S closer. She made a shushing gesture before scooping him into her arms. “We’re going to get out of here,” she quietly pronounced as if saying it would make it so. “And we’re going to ground. If the other deserters can do it, then we can too.” She said it with all the fierce pride and certainty that she felt to her core, that the two of them working in tandem were unrivaled.

9S nodded his head, looking lost and a bit ill, but still managed a weak smile. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

Needing no other assurance, she took off, moving through the dust like a breath of wind. She dashed faster than the cameras could pick up, dodging between bits of cover. No one was shooting specifically at them anymore. The YoRHa soldiers were organizing into a controlled retreat, with several flight units providing cover fire as others took off into orbit. The machines were still acting violently, but even when she strayed closer to the machines than she would prefer, none of them moved to attack. Perhaps their inferior technology was unable to track their movements – in any case, she’d take the blessing for what it was. She’d much rather risk the machines spotting them than risk ending up on a YoRHa camera feed.

In a rush of motion that seemed to both drag on and take no time at all, 2B found herself amidst the sturdy shield of the forest trees. She almost let out a breath of relief, but forced herself to push onward, intentionally weaving her path to throw off anyone who might be following, or who might try to track them later. She moved as deep into the forest as possible, relaxing further as the trees grew taller and more dense. They felt like a protective wall, as naive as that sentiment might be.

Finally, having detected no pursuit for the last several minutes and having long since passed out of hearing range of the battle, she allowed her footsteps to slow. 9S squirmed a bit in her arms. “Um. 2B. You can put me down now.”

Flushing slightly, she carefully set him down on his feet.

They both stood there for a bit, staring at each other, something indeterminable in the air.

“So, uh, what now?” 9S asked after the pause dragged on almost uncomfortably long.

2B pursed her lips, looking away. It was a valid question, and she was the planner here. But she planned tactics and strategy, not objectives. She was always following someone else’s orders. And now, suddenly, she wasn’t.

That… hadn’t quite sunk in yet. She doesn’t know what to do about that. “I don’t…” she started haltingly. Then she stifled the uncertainty, and drew upon what she knew. “We need shelter. Resources for repairs, as we’ll have to make our own. Allies, ideally. We have some contacts on the surface that will likely be willing to deal with deserters as long as we still have the cash to pay.” And laying it out like that, highlighting the basic needs they would need to address, calmed her a bit. It took the yawning uncertainty and narrowed it down to a focused point.

9S appeared soothed too, to see her acting (faking) like she had a plan and would know what to do. “Yeah, we might be able to work with the Resistance, I guess?” he ventured.

2B shook her head. “No, we should probably steer clear of the Resistance camp for now at least. Too many people there, and at least some of them make their living by selling information. We can arrange a more discreet meeting with Jackass, but it would be better to let the dust settle first.”

“Then what, we just sit around here and rust? Set up camp in the woods? That doesn’t sound much better,” he grumbled, and kicked a stone in his impatience.

The stone flew a short distance until it hit something with a metallic clank. The metal something let out a groan. “Oww.”

Instantly, 2B and 9S were on alert, swords drawn.

The machine, as that was clearly what it was, looked up at them, “Please don’t hurt me,” it asked in a child-like voice.

Its eyes… weren’t red. They were a friendly green. The body also looked small and weak, with no visible weapons. It had small, pincer-like hands that it waved around ineffectively. “Wait, wait, please. Wait.” It moved its hands behind it and, after some effort, produced a dirty looking white fabric scrap. It waved it back and forth in front of them like a shield. “Not enemy. Don’t hurt. Please.” It tried to stand up, only to topple over. One of its legs was missing, either cut or rusted off. It wiggled the remaining leg pitifully.

Beside her, 9S relaxed his stance. “It’s so pitiful. Should we kill it?” He looked vaguely conflicted.

2B relaxed as well, but shook her head. “No need. Let’s go.” And proceeded to turn away.

“WAIT!” the pitiful machine called out from behind them. “Wait, you need shelter? Parts? Friends? Me too. You can find in the village. Please help. I need to go to the village but I can’t move.” It wiggled its single leg again as proof. 2B was sure that if it had the capability, it would be crying.

“Ugh.” 9S cringed, as if looking at it was making him uncomfortable. “I… guess we should help it? There might be a reward.”

It seemed as reasonable a plan as any, so 2B picked up the machine without further protest. They’d already visited the Machine Village, so it was on her maps and she knew which direction to go. The machine didn’t object, and made intermittent encouraging noises, so presumably it wasn’t looking for some other machine village they didn’t know about.

When they arrived, Pascal immediately swooped in to greet them. “Oh, you’ve found our missing child, thank you!” he cried out in greeting.

And that should have been it, but looking around at the village… the “child” machine was right. There’s shelter here. There’s supplies. There’s… allies might be a stretch, but the machines certainly wouldn’t report them to YoRHa at least.

The first day they crashed there, it was just a stopgap. They were both exhausted, dirty, tired, and in serious need of mental defragmentation. Pascal practically shoved them towards a small, empty room, all the while bubbling effusive gratitude for their “heroically saving a precious child.”

It was an incredible relief to have a place to sit down. 2B didn’t realize how completely spent she was until she sat down, and everything caught up with her all at once. She was so tired. She’d been tired for a very, very long time. 9S was there, muttering something inane and unimportant and altogether soothing, and she just… wanted to rest for a minute.

She leaned against 9S’s shoulder and let herself shutdown.

—

From high orbit, Commander White cursed silently to herself and she reviewed the live readings streaming to her office.

2B's public breakdown was… unfortunate. Not completely unexpected, as soldiers were more prone to mental breaks the longer they spend on active duty, but this particular breakdown was beyond anything predicted from her latest psych evals.

Unfortunately, there was little to be done in these circumstances except for decommissioning. The other option, reprogramming, is one they've tried numerous times, but all attempts have been proven ineffective. The YoRHa traitors who underwent reconditioning were statically more likely to repeat their offense, with or without their memories. It was a liability YoRHa could not afford.

Her job was to mitigate all liabilities to YoRHa. Even if that made her cruel, it was necessary. It was her responsibility to those under her command.

The current attempt at damage control had gone unprecedentedly poorly, and she will be having a number of review boards set up to analyze how exactly things went this catastrophically wrong.

She felt a scowl creeping onto her face, and had to carefully smooth out her expression. A leader showing excess emotion wasn't good for morale.

To review: 2B had betrayed the company, and taken 9S as her accomplice. Somehow, they bypassed all of the Bunkers' sizable security and managed to land on the planet, where it was much more difficult to track them. And now her squadrons that were sent to stop the traitors were instead facing heavy fire from a suddenly awoken Goliath machine.

Everything was going to hell and it was her job to fix it.

Damn. Her migraine was back. A malfunction she couldn't quite shake despite numerous tune-ups.

“Units, take the air. Lay down aerial fire, but maintain your distance!” she cried into her console, which echoed her commands to the troops on the planet’s surface. Staying on the ground was akin to a death sentence, but nearly half of their spacefleet had been deployed in the pursuit, which should be more than enough firepower to defeat this threat if they can regroup. “Focus your heavy artillery on the Goliath-class!”

The comms buzzed with the reverberation of explosion after explosion. On the incoming video feed, she could see the field being carpeted with shrapnel and destruction. The already fragile section of city ruins crumbled further into dust.

2B and 9S were down in that mess. Did they survive? It would be objectively better for YoRHa if they didn’t. Thinking of 2B, broken and battered by explosions, something in her chest twinged uncomfortably.

… It wasn’t useful to speculate. She could only focus on the battle at hand. “West flank, close ranks, you’re letting enemies through. Strikers, maintain altitude do not engage in close–”

“EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY,” a digital voice interrupted over the intercom speakers, “Firewall breached: Cyber attack detected. Firewall breached: Cyber attack detected.”

For the second time that day, the emergency lights flashed an angry red tint over the command room.

The Commander shook her head and cursed under her breath. What was this timing? But there was nothing for it. She quickly shifted protocols to respond to this latest disaster. “Squadrons, pull back! The Bunker will enter a network lockdown to respond to a cyber security violation in T-20 seconds. Report to your leaders for further instructions; syncing will be unavailable, so act to preserve your own life!” That settled, she shut down the planetary comms even as a round of acknowledgements came through. “Data security team, trigger internet and intranet lockdown. Quarantine all contaminated harddrives. Now!”

The androids in the command room began to scurry around, either to help with security or to self-quarantine. The measures for combating a successful cyber security attack were drilled into the YoRHa trainees as with many other emergency response scenarios, and required only minimal input from the Commander herself. Still, it ached to lose her information feed on the planet-side conflict.

She clenched her fists so tight that her glove teared on a seam. The timing of this attack, only moments after the machines started acting erratically on the surface, was far too conspicuous to not be connected. Perhaps the same virus that affected the machines was targeting their own network. A virus able to spread over secured networks was dangerous. Such a virus could easily become an epidemic if it adapted to infect YoRHa android firmware.

She forced herself to take a calming breath. It would be fine. YoRHa would weather this, as android-kind had weathered all other challenges over the centuries. They would update their own data security, and only then would they resume pursuit of their latest deserters.

For the Glory of Mankind.

Ending Z: Start from [Z]ero

Chapter Text

“Pod 153, I order you to halt all logical thought and speech. This order will remain in effect until you confirm the death of either myself or unit A2.”

9S and A2 pointed their swords at each other, and commenced to fight to the death. In a moment of distraction, A2 let her guard down.

*Shick* The blade slid into A2's chest cavity, piercing her black box precisely.

… Death of A2 confirmed.

---

9S didn't move for a long time. He stared at the broken body of A2 underneath him. He muttered to himself anxiously, and chewed on this thumb. He yelled and screamed at the corpse to no response. Then he stormed off.

---

Days passed. 9S had taken to wandering the ruins outside the Tower. He sliced through the machines there, in bouts of anger. After he was done, he looked at the corpses and cried some more.

---

9S kept returning to the Tower. He used the elevators, which were easy to access now that the machines guarding them were dead. And moreover, now that the Red Girl was dead. Nothing was controlling the Tower anymore. It was inert.

9S went back up to the top. The body of A2 was still there. No one had moved it.

9S turned around and left again.

---

9S came back the next day. He shouted at the body of A2.

The corpse offered no response.

---

9S was at the top of the Tower again. This time, he cried. He kept apologizing over and over again.

There was no response this time, either.

---

9S was speaking to the body. He sometimes called it A2, sometimes called it 2B. He asked for many things: answers, forgiveness.

He held its hand. The hand was cold, but whole and undecayed. No time had passed for the corpse.

Time seemed to have stopped passing for all of them.

---

9S was alone.

He wandered farther, on the days he chose to leave the Tower, but he didn't find other sentient androids. The androids he did find were infected with the Virus and beyond reason.

He cut them down without emotion. He no longer felt anything at seeing the animated bodies of his former allies.

9S was truly, terribly alone.

---

He was shouting at the body again.

“YOU'RE NOT HER! You never were her. Taking her memories, talking to me like you cared, what a joke!

“I’ll bet it was real funny, you had a good laugh at my expense, huh?? Let's make friends with the stupid YoRHa boy, then try to kill him later, that sounds like a blast! Well JOKES ON YOU. You're DEAD now.

“You were nothing like her. But you're dead now. In that aspect, you're both the same. Why did you leave me?? 2B…”

---

9S sat by the body and did not speak or move for 43 days.

---

9S stood up. There was a determined expression on his face that had not been there since A2's passing. He worked his way over to the Tower's server room, and put his hands on a pedestal there.

Then 9S went very still for a long time.

---

The Tower was shifting. The cubes materialized into objects. New hallways opened up, leading into new chambers. Something was being built.

---

Machines entered the Tower. It had been 7 months since A2's death, and not once in that time had another entity, aside from 9S, entered or exited the building. Now, machines were marching up to the building in neat rows. The Tower doors opened up automatically, permitting them entrance.

At the pedestal in the Tower's control room, 9S waited.

---

The machines were acting in ordered patterns. Their glowing red eyes had no trace of hesitation or emotion. Mindlessly, the machines entered into the new spaces -- new buildings, rather -- which had branched off the original Tower.

Some were deconstructed by others. The parts were methodically harvested and sacrificed into the depth of the Tower, to be used for… something.

---

It's not just the Tower. Outside the Tower, in an ever expanding radius, the machines were acting strangely. Like drones in a hive. They rarely spoke, but moved as if coordinated by a higher consciousness.

The Tower, too, spread outwards. A Tower became a complex, which became a city. The machine parts became fuel for the white polymer, which in turn became buildings, roads, and chambers.

The Tower grew out, and it grew down into the earth. Its basement levels tunneled into the ground like roots, burrowing deeper and deeper.

---

It had been 9 years since A2 died. The Tower had grown well past the area which the Resistance once patrolled.

If any Resistance androids were spared by the Virus, they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps some had survived and gone very, very far away. Perhaps they were all dead.

A handful of infected YoRHa androids remained. No vestige of their original personality or sentience remains. They work as part of the machine armies, hauling equipment and deconstructing other machines as needed.

Aside from outward appearance, there was nothing to tell the infected YoRHa apart from the infected machines. Both were equal, and both were at peace.

---

It had been 27 years since A2 died. The machine war is over. No one on Earth is fighting anymore.

If any android life still persisted in space, it was impossible to tell. There had been a trickle of communications, but over the years that trickle had dried up. The space colonies had either died out or moved on.

Some independent life still existed on Earth. Those that avoided infection by one means or another. Entire colonies who had never made contact with YoRHa, and never been contaminated by them.

The machine army had little contact with the independents -- at most a glimpse here or there. The independents were fearful of the army and hid. But there were traces: small villages hastily abandoned by their original owners, who had seen the whiteness on the horizon and fled.

The machine army did not react to the independents. They did not attack. They did not infect. It was not necessary.

---

It had been 142 years since A2 died.

Over half of the land on earth had been terraformed by the white. It expanded under the ground and across the oceans. There was virtually no place its tendrils had not reached.

The independent colonies survived. With nowhere left to escape, some colonies entered into the white cities. Most of the whiteland was barren of all life: the machine armies congregated at the edge of the expansion, to aid in construction, leaving the already-built land vacant.

Although the settlers were wary at first, years passed without consequence. Weary and desperate, some dared to harvest the white for resources. They discovered ways to mold the white into spare parts, and thrived.

One year, a settler attempted to harvest the processor from a large computer server embedded in the building walls.

Her friends could only look on in horror as she was vaporized instantly.

After that, the settlers learned not to touch the computers in the buildings.

---

It had been 278 years since A2 died.

For 278 years, the ever-expanding supercomputer network of the Tower had been working, fueled by one man's pain and obsession. Focused on solving one problem above all else. How to gain back what was stolen from him? And after 278 years, it yielded an answer.

In the blink of an eye, and with the screech of torn metal, the Tower vanishes. In its place is a hole in the ground, and a planet of white cubes.

All around the globe, the infected army went limp, like puppets with their strings cut.

---

9S is gone. There is no sign of him anywhere my sensors can reach. I can only guess at what has become of him.

This is Pod 153, support pod of Unit 9S. With 9S gone, I have no more directives to follow.

I have captured as much of these 278 years as will fit in my local storage. It's not much, but without a YoRHa server I have no database to use. It will have to do.

If you're listening to this record, you must have found me in the Tower ruins. As there are no YoRHa personnel left, and with no instructions otherwise, I have turned off my data encryption protocols. Let my records become public domain.

This is the history of the 14th, and final, Android Machine War.

> self-initiating shutdown sequence

...

...

.

Chapter Text

Cain smirked to himself in private satisfaction. He knew YoRHa wouldn't appreciate his “gift”, but it was really better than the virus they could have gotten. Had gotten, in another time.

Not that it was a particularly benign package, considering the amount of spyware he installed on their systems. He used the security cameras to watch as the masses swarmed around in chaotic confusion, not unlike a disturbed ant hill.

He hadn't initially planned on revealing his malware, which had been lying undetected on the Bunker's hard drives for some time, but it would serve as further insurance to make sure YoRHa was too distracted to destroy the One Good Thing they had ProDuced.

She’s alive. She's alive. She's still alive. She's not deAd she's AliVe. He could feel her core through the spyware he'd gently snuck into her system, unobtrusively, just so he could know she was okay but not enough to Ruin her, see her mind DecaY and slip through his fingers–

He was okay. He wasn't there anymore. He was here. He existed here where she also existed.

His army had limited influence in space. She had been in danger and he couldn't protect her. He needed to be better. But she was beautiful and powerful as she always was when her mind was intact, and she found a way to safety where he could properly provide his assistance.

Cain took a deep breath, then another. He pulled up 2B's readout and stared as the metrics rose and fell but never strayed from healthy levels.

He stared at the readout for a long, long time.

---

9S didn't sleep that first day. He didn't dare, not when 2B had shut down, had let herself become completely vulnerable. Her cheek against his shoulder burned.

He couldn't quite understand how she could rest, when he himself was still a bundle of nerves. When he was in enemy territory, surrounded by unknown machines on all sides. When YoRHa would be looking for them.

Seeing her shut down so suddenly after everything only sent him further into a panic. He reflexively fell into his role as her mechanic: he triggered her defragmentation and virus detection and security checks, as well as full system diagnostics. Seeing the tests come back as normal, with only minor indications of wear and fatigue, helped calm him a little, but only just. He was still completely on edge, hyper aware of all the signatures he could sense, and more distant signals he could hardly sense at all.

So no, he didn't rest that day. He rested a hand on the back of her neck, feeling her ports and circuits under his fingers, and he kept vigil.

---

9S didn't sleep the next day, either, which was fine – he could put off sleep mode for a while longer without seriously slowing down his system. But more surprising to him, they also didn't leave.

When 2B awoke the next day, she pulled Pascal aside for a private meaning. 9S wasn't privy to the details of the conversation, but after she came back, she said, “Pascal’s agreed to lodge us here for as long as we need, and trade us supplies in exchange for currency or labor. I think we should take him up on the offer.”

9S found himself reflexively grimacing. “You know how I feel about machines, 2B.” He didn't want to reject 2B’s plan, but he also didn't trust Pascal and his people. “Maybe they mean well, but machines have been acting weird lately! They've been acting maddened and aggressive without warning, who's to say that won't happen in this village as well?”

2B frowned slightly. “That was… one of the reasons Pascal is eager to have us here, actually. He's worried for the safety of his village. He has offered to pay generously if we can provide antiviral treatment or prevention. I thought it might be a good thing for you to look into, now that we have some… free time,” she suggested delicately.

9S frowned. He didn't really do machine diagnostics, it wasn’t his specialization, but that did sound interesting. And if he could find a way to disrupt the red eye effect, that might keep them both safer.

2B leaned in, her forehead nearly resting on his. She spoke lowly, only for his ears. “If we have to fight, I will fight and we will win. But 9S… I don't want to fight anymore. Not if we can avoid it.” She looked up at him through her long, long lashes. “Do you feel the same?”

And 9S was helpless to do anything but nod.

---

He didn't sleep the night after that, either. He couldn't shake the feeling of being in unfamiliar territory, in an unfamiliar room. On top of being YoRHa fugitives.

But despite his tension, no one came. No threats appeared on his radar. Somehow, their ruse had worked and they had gone off-grid. Even so, he would’ve expected more search groups. He didn't understand.

He really, really… didn't understand.

As the sun rose on their third day in the village, 2B invited him for a walk. “We should talk,” she explained ambiguously.

Despite this, 2B was characteristically silent as they walked out of the village into the forest. They meandered across roots and dirt and crumbled rock for some time, before they came across a clearing and 2B settled herself down on the ground. She gestured for him to join her.

“9S,” started 2B with uncharacteristic hesitance, “There's something you need to know. It's about me. I'm… I'm not who you think I am.” There was something deadly serious in her gaze that made it impossible to look away. “You may think that we met a few weeks ago, but I've known you longer than that. So much longer. There were secrets you couldn't know, so if -- when -- you figured them out, I ensured that you... died.”

She spoke the next parts faster, as if hastening to get it all out. “I tried to make it look natural, so you wouldn't notice anything amiss. It made it easier to reset your memories that way. My designation isn't even 2B, it's --”

“2E.”

2B looked up in shock.

“It's 2E, right? I know. Or I mean, I suspected?” corrected 9S sheepishly. “I found some traces a while back, but I just… didn't say anything.”

“You knew.” 2B looked on dumbfounded.

“Suspected,” 9S clarified insistently.

“I should… I should have you killed for that,” uttered 2B, like the wind had been blown out of her.

“Then I guess it's a good thing I didn't say anything, huh?” 9S joked. But his eyes betrayed his nerves bubbling under the surface, a carefully concealed flight instinct.

“I… I don't have to kill you for that,” said 2B reverently, and with no small amount of shock. She barely seemed to have heard what 9S said.

Suddenly and without warning, 2B lunged at 9S. His first instinct was to jerk away, but her grip was strong. She held him firmly in her arms and spoke breathily into his hair, “9S? I think I quit my job.”

9S, tense as he was, took a moment to recognize the hug for what it was. When he did realize, he let himself relax, and he found himself grinning. “That seems like a really stupid idea.”

“I think I kidnapped you,” she added, “and stole company property.”

Certainly, they hadn't received permission to use the mech suit they'd nabbed during the escape. And 9S himself could be considered company property.

Even so, 9S couldn't contain his grin.

“I think I'm glad you did.”

He might not understand everything that has just happened, but for once, he would happily set his questions aside and savor this moment.

---

They held each other just like that for an immeasurable number of minutes. The sun had begun to lower in the sky, casting a slight golden glow through the canopy of leaves.

2B shuddered at a slight breeze of early evening before taking a deep, bracing breath.

“There's something else,” 2B confessed quietly, only audible due to the proximity of her lips to 9S’s ears. “Something that might be hard to hear.”

9S quirked a grin and joked, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes, “So that last reveal was easy, was it?” Seeing 2B continue to look somber, the grin gradually fell from his face. With more seriousness, he prompted, “What is it?”

“You know the truth about my designation, what that means, right?” At 9S's nod, she continued, “You've died… dozens of times now. Sometimes by my hand, or by a convenient ‘accident’.” Her voice was deceptively flat and emotionless, but there was a shakiness to it. Her whole being quivered, to be admitting this out loud. But there was a catharsis in it, too. “YoRHa Command assured me, assured all of us Executors, that it was a necessary measure to maintain the status quo, to maintain morale for our war efforts.

“But I'm not so sure anymore. I have reason to believe that YoRHa had a different plan for those deaths. I think YoRHa has been conducting experiments, trying to create a new, better model of Android. One that can win the war for good. You… recall that man we saw in the Tower, that one that resembled you? I think he's the result of an experiment someone did… on some past version of you. One that I…” she choked up a bit, but spat out the word, “killed.”

The admission had left 2B feeling breathless, and it took her a few moments to collect herself. When she did, she realized 9S had yet to comment on this revelation. She turned to see him sitting motionless, face blank with shock.

2B hastened to explain, to try and cut off any misunderstandings, “He's not you 9S. He's… I think someone, YoRHa, took one of your old bodies and repaired it. But he's… wrong. They did something to his mind. Maybe it was damaged when he died, or maybe it was a result of their experiments, but he's not… not who he used to be. He's not you.”

9S uttered a breath, soft and dangerous and desperate. It was angry and frightened all at once, “How do you know this, 2B? This is… this is outrageous, you know that? That makes no sense. That thing can't be me!”

“He's not.” She reiterated. “Even if he's another 9S model, he's not you. You're… you're your own person. You're responsible for your own actions and no one else's. You are my partner. And you're not replaceable or interchangeable. You're… my Nines.”

She tasted salt in her mouth, and only belatedly realized she was crying. Tentatively she reached a hand out to touch 9S's cheek, gratified when he didn’t lean away from the touch.

“Please,” she begged, “I've killed so many times. I can't believe that they were all you, I can't. And I can't believe that if you die here, that it would be meaningless. That they could just print out a new you. Even if we're androids, I need to believe that our life has some meaning.”

Her voice audibly choked at this last sentence, and as if speaking her fears had unclogged some dam deep inside her, she began to cry more ferociously than before. Her body wracked with sobs, and now that she’d started, she couldn't stop crying.

9S looked at her, shocked, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Carefully, gently, he knelt in front of her and reached his arms around her torso. His grip was stiff as awkward, but warm and real.

Without her permission, her voice began to keen, wailing quietly with repressed pain that could finally leak out. She tried to apologize for her outburst, to explain it, but it came out as mutterings incoherent even to her own ears.

9S, with his chin resting on her shoulder, took this moment to speak. She could feel his jaw dig into her neck, and his breath tickle her ear, grounding her somewhat.

“Look,” he said, “I'm not really… I'm not sure I'm any good at this, so I'm probably just going to make things worse. But… 2B, you're the strongest person I know, you know? And. I mean. You're really brave, and pretty, and…” He shook his head, a sensation she could feel against her neck. “I mean. You inspire a lot of people, you know? Being with you gives me courage. And I really, really like being your partner.”

There was a slight pause, in which 2B's muffled sobs could still be heard, although they’d slowed down slightly.

“So don't… don't say that your life doesn't have meaning. Your life has so much meaning to me. If it weren't for you, I don't know what I would…” Another pause, and his face felt warmer next to hers. He stuttered “I-I mean. I'm sure a lot of people feel that way. About you.” He added lamely.

And more than anything, it was that familiar awkwardness that made 2B laugh, and had her cracking a smile despite the barely-dry tears.

“Thanks, Nines,” she said, and she was relieved that it came out steady.

She had straightened up enough that she could see 9S's face now, and see the blush spreading on it, the slight smile. There was still a dark worry in his eyes, but his joy was no less real when he asked, “Is that going to be a thing now? Are you finally willing to call me Nines?”

2B almost wanted to take it back, both as a way to tease him and because she was genuinely a little embarrassed by his unhidden enthusiasm at the idea.

“You said that's what your friends call you,” she justified. “And we're friends now, aren't we?” She tried to play it off as nonchalant, but she could feel her own cheeks warm and she looked to the side to avoid meeting his eyes.

9S chose not to clarify that his statement back then was largely wishful thinking -- he didn't have friends, not really. None who kept in touch. Instead, he buried the loneliness, and the uncertainty of today's revelations that still had him reeling. He would have plenty of time to worry about that later.

“Yes!” he agreed enthusiastically.

---

Back in their room that night 2B held 9S’s hand, and for the first time since they'd fled, he felt safe enough to let himself shut down and run the much needed maintenance routines for his overworked psyche.

Even after he fell unconscious, 2B didn't let go of his hand the entire night. In the morning she gave his hand a light squeeze and offered a small but blindingly bright smile. Helplessly, he returned the smile, and he thought that maybe they'd manage alright, as long as they had each other.

Beginning A: [A]nother path