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un: unitA2 (voice)

[The voice that filters through has the gruff, raspy edge of someone who hasn't spoken in a while.]

I need intel on the monsters on the outskirts. I'll kill them in exchange.

[After a moment:] There's something else that I need. A cloak. It needs to - [an irritated sigh, and in a mutter:] how do I explain this - to be able to offset high temperatures. A heat sink. It'll increase my functionality.

I can do something in return. That's all.

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Thank you.

No. Nothing happened.

[She hesitates before speaking.]

It's only... my function is combat. I can clear threats from the area.

Edited (zooted and forgot she was talking not texting. ) 2025-02-06 03:31 (UTC)

[ hm, wow, is this what it feels like for other people when she talks about having a function? it's presumably normal an android would have one, but... ]

Do you like fighting?

[This question is a mirror of what Heimerdinger had asked her. But the dreams have left her emotions scattered, exposed too much of her.]

It doesn't matter if I like it or not. It's my designation. I was designed-

[Her hands clench, unclench.]

Designed to kill machines. Just because they aren't here doesn't mean there aren't threats.

But you don't have to do it if you don't want to. No one will make you. That's one of the nice things about being free.

[Freedom? In a machine's simulation for her? It should be laughable, that she had achieved the thing that her more noble sisters had died without ever being able to grasp, and all at the whim of one of their enemies. But it isn't funny to her.

A family. A name. Peace. These were all things that had belonged to the ones who died for her. But as for her? She was a ghost. A failure. A traitorous deserter. She didn't deserve any of this, even if it was fake.]

This isn't freedom. It's just some screwed-up machine's simulation. And if I'm stuck in it, I can at least be useful. What I want isn't important.

[ it takes her a moment to respond, caught off-guard. ]

I think what you want is very important.

[Despite being a programmed tool, a living weapon, A2 knows when she's said something upsetting. She often did this on purpose — another method used to force others to detach from her. But it didn't mean she enjoyed it. It didn't mean she didn't feel bad about it.]

... Look, I-

[She swallows audibly. Her tone is more subdued when she speaks again. Softer. Ashamed.] You don't know me. You don't know the things I've done. If this is some kind of freedom, then... I don't deserve it. It's better for me to fight.

[ if A2 was a human, Beta likely would have left the conversation. She's skittish, and easily thrown off when she senses rejection of any kind.

but she can't help but feel for A2. as a human raised like a tool, she felt lost and confused about her path moving forward enough. for an artificial intelligence designed as a combat tool... ]

Why should you have to deserve it?

I-

[The sudden swell of guilt that overtakes her almost makes her cut the conversation short. It would be easy. Could just forget all of this. Drop this device somewhere and wander to the limits of this pace. But...

A memory, then: of 2B. How she had dragged herself across the ruined expanse of their world and sought her out.

She switches the feed to private.]

Because my-

People died for me, so I could live. And I failed them. Because I killed others who didn't deserve to die.

If anyone should be here, it should be them.

Edited (icon...) 2025-02-07 02:42 (UTC)

I haven't had to kill anyone [ technically ] so I can't really speak on that. But I have had someone die for me.

His name was Varl. He died trying to keep my creators from taking me back.

[ hopeless she might have been, back under the Zenith's control, it had been Varl that made her want to stay defiant. even in the face of the awful simulations they'd force on her, she'd remained defiant for him. ]

I don't know your friends, and I don't know a lot about people or how they act. But I think if someone cares about you enough to die for you, they would want you to be happy.

[In the wake of Beta's message, A2 is silent. The audio feed catches little things: enough to know she's out in nature, among rustling trees and the wind. Snow melting off of branches. Distant birds.

Finally, she sighs. It's a low, tired sound.]

Yeah. They would. But I don't. Haven't in a long time.

I'm sorry about your friend. He did the right thing.

He was a wonderful person. My first friend.

[ it's strange, how thinking about him makes her happy yet hurts so badly simultaneously. she'd never known what it was to grieve for a real friend before, not someone using her. ]

I hope one day you can feel differently. I think there are many things to be happy about, if we try.

[There's no response again, for a while. A long stretch of recording where her breathing isn't even heard. Only birdsong, gentle wind and the barely audible hum of Pod operating beside her.

Finally, though:]

Sorry. That I snapped at you.

It's okay. This stuff is really hard. I'm sorry if I was pushy.

You weren't. It's fine.

[...

Another sigh.]

No. 21. No. 16. No. 4. That was my squad. I was their captain.

What were they like?

[She hesitates in answering. There's a sudden awareness of the space she's in, the concept of this machine taking her data into itself and becoming something new.

But the words do come, slowly. She was sharing the memory this time. It wasn't the same.] All YoRHa operatives have specialized designations. No. 4 and I were close range combatants. No. 16 was a Gunner. And No. 21 was a Scanner — a strategist.

[... It's all military talk. She knows that's not what Beta means, but she has to settle into these memories carefully. They aren't easy to discuss. No one's ever asked this question of her before. Only she and Anemone were left to remember them, and neither one was the type to talk about it.]

No. 16 was brash. When we first encountered the Resistance on Earth, she offended them. But she was... she never liked to be cruel. Even though she was prideful, she would apologize. [A little softer now:] Nothing ever frightened her.

[The first of them to be lost, and all to buy them time. She should have guessed that something was wrong then. That it was a death trap. Everything they did only shaved a few minutes off of the inevitable.]

She sounds brave.

[ Beta doesn't want to interrupt too much and interrupt A2's thoughts, but she doesn't want her to think she stopped paying attention either. ]

Mm.

She and No. 21 always bickered. [A pause. She seems to be collecting her thoughts again.] No. 21 was... serious. She was focused on the mission. And... on ensuring our safety. She was the first android to effectively neutralize the logic virus. Then it evolved.

[Softly:] It always evolves.

She was a fast thinker. Strategic and careful. She used to scold me. No. 16 too. But it wasn't...

It wasn't cruel.

[ Numbers for names. Even for AI, it bothers her.

A2 is too cognizant to write off as a program, maybe even more advanced than Gaia in ways. A designation seems callous, she thinks, absolutely not realizing the irony. ]

I bet they did it because they cared.

Yeah. [A2's voice is smaller now, diminished.] They did.

[She doesn't know why. She was timid, weak, her performance lackluster as compared to everyone else. Her vision blurs and then adjusts itself.]

No. 4... my friend. My best friend. [She thinks of how Beta had referred to this Varl, and it seems right — to refer to No. 4 as this. No. 4 who was always beside her, who was always looking out for her.] She was the last one left. She destroyed herself for me. I couldn't help her, even though I tried. Couldn't help anyone. [...] I was only a burden.

[ Her first instinct is to refuse the claim, comfort A2 and reassure her that she been nothing of the sort.

But Beta's been a burden too. Stood useless while Varl was run through in front of her. Could she truly handle it if someone tried to tell her otherwise when she knew the truth?

She switches her tablet to call, her voice soft. ]

I'm sorry, A2. There's nothing I can say to make it better. But they sound like wonderful people. I'm glad you had them.

Edited 2025-02-19 04:02 (UTC)

Hah. [The laugh is brief and humorless. A gust of wind through dry autumn leaves.] Do humans always apologize for things that aren't their fault?

[She actually didn't know if it was their fault or not. How could it be? They had died long before YoRHa had even existed. Could you blame a thing that never existed to you?]

They were. [People. An android wasn't a person. They were tools. Weapons. But she appreciates the sentiment, all the same. It was one she'd never experienced before. No one had ever said, "I'm sorry for your loss," or, "I'm sorry that happened to you." Not until here. She doesn't know what to do with it. To say that she didn't deserve it felt cruel, in the wake of Beta's sympathy. To say she misses her friends is too painful to articulate. So, instead:]

... Thank you, Beta.

[Her voice is small. But the words are genuine.]

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