In the wake of my past, there are but a handful of ripples that I can remember.

"Keep going! You can do it!" The teary-eyed encouragement of my belated Master. You see, things always ended this way. Every experiment, every trial, every diagnostic; a motivational spiel of how much more I could do and how much harder I need to push myself.

I don't even know what half of the Researcher's intentions were most of the time, hell; I don't even remember what tasks they had me perform. But looking at the interior reflection of the Phantom's singed canopy, I found the one who saw it through to the end staring back right at me. I've struggled to keep my pockets free of regrets, but it seems I'd need to set down both the briefcase, the backpack and the wagon I've been towing thus far.

Each time I get close to hocking a handful of remorse onto the side of the road, I hesitate and think to myself; "Will I be losing a part of what makes me ‘me'?" At this very moment, where everything seems hopeless and lost, all the actions I had taken lead up to this point. Good or bad, if I were to change a sliver of detail, how far out will the ripples flow? Will I still be alive? Can I call that person who took a left instead of a right the ‘me' I've come to know?

"Life is gonna knock you down a time or two… or three…" My Master used to say…

"Oh, alright! I'm under-exaggerating, maybe just a little. But I'm trying not to scare you- so please stop giving me that face!"

In reply, I would knowingly ask "What face?" as I'd inflate my cheeks until I resembled a blow-fish.

"Don't let anyone tell you ‘Life is Pain.' It's so much more than that. The only way anyone should be allowed to describe it is as ‘Chaos.'"

"But isn't chaos bad? You always get in trouble for a ‘disorderly workspace' and disorder is a cinnamon for chaos!"

And as always, he would ruffle my hair, overlooking my shortcomings and youthful ignorance.

"That's right. Life is Cinnamon. It can be overwhelming and bitter at times. In just the right amount, it's something we can enjoy!"

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴅᴀʏᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs?]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ɴᴏ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴍʏsᴇʟꜰ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ sᴜʀᴇ ɪ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ, ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ. sᴜʀᴇʟʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴀsᴇᴅ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ?]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ɪᴛ. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪs ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇ sᴀꜰᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ.]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. sʏɴᴀᴘᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇꜰʀᴇsʜ ʀᴀᴛᴇ – ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ! ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sᴘᴇᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ʀᴀᴘɪᴅʟʏ. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴀᴅᴠɪsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴜɴᴡɪsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʟɪɴᴋ.]

As I gave the subtlest nod, my thumb had already been bearing down on a metal toggle switch in the control panel wrapping around to either side. The result; the F-4 had transformed, almost as if it had broken apart as it wings formed blade-like arms and its landing gear, narrow legs.

With the final flare suspended just above the bumbling Bomber, Slate's vision had been obscured in the fizzling canister's blinding yellow light. It was then I reached forward with the Mech's mechanical gauntlet, catching him around the torso as we plummeted towards earth in one swift, unthinkable movement.

"You've really done us in now!" The pilot shouted as time resumed its normal cadence. "Bi-Mech's can either fly or walk- but not both at the same time!"

Flipping the switch back into ‘Aircraft – Mode,' my heart sank.

"You can't lock the arms back into place unless we're stationary! We don't even have enough momentum to slow a stall long enough even to attempt it! We're as good as a bird with clipped wings!"

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪʟᴏᴛ ɪs sᴀʏɪɴɢ ɪs ᴛʀᴜᴇ, ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ… ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ.]

Cradling Slate who had been rendered unconscious by the force of a metal arm slamming into him at high-speed, I intently focused on wrestling the controls of the Bi-Mech as we continued to plummet.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀɢɢʀᴇssɪᴠᴇ sᴘɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɴᴛʀɪꜰᴜɢᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴍs ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ɪɴ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ sᴏ, ᴡᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ… ʟᴏsᴇ sʟᴀᴛᴇ.]

"Out of the question!" I growled as we began to tumble against the howling wind racing over the chassis.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. ɪɴ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴜs, ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪsʜᴇs.]

"Like hell!!"

"Ha! That's it! She's nuts! Now you're talking to yourself- Fuck this! The PNG didn't pay me enough for this! I'm punching out!"

Just as the Pilot reached for the cautionary lines painted over a long ejection lever, I kicked my foot around the seat, using my heel to keep the device pinned into the ‘Safe' position.

"Let-me-out! There's no point in us dying over the bastard taking shots at us!"

*CLANGBOOOOM!*

"Yeah, but he's my bastard…" I whispered as the chest of our Mech crumpled around the leading edge of the Landcaster Bomber's right wing. "Lotte… to the rescue…"

From the edge of the large glass canopy, I could perceive Lotte's forever muted expression as she tilted her in acknowledgment to my disbelief.

"Here; you can have your radio back. Give our pilot the coordinates of where we can land. I'm not sure our Bomber will be airworthy much longer with this added weight."

In returning the radio, I manipulated the Bi-Mechs arm to gently insert Slate through the broken section of the Astrodome's socket.

Once on the ground, my only complaint came from our less-than-graceful landing and the consequences that stemmed from ruining our ride home. But all my grievances quickly melted away as I was far too enamored in soaking in a new experience, a Martian world of sodden red sand and course volcanic rock.

"Where are we exactly?" I hummed as I assisted Lotte from the mangled nose of the Bomber before moving to throw Slate's unconscious body over my shoulder.

"This is Providence! Land of Blood, Sex and Tears!" The Phantom Pilot jeered as it threw Slate's opposing arm over their shoulder.

"T-That doesn't quite sound right… Did you mean; sweat? -and that STILL doesn't sound inviting…"

"Nope, you heard me correctly. Maybe even a simultaneous combination of the three if you visit the Red-Light district."

"O-Okay, am I missing something? There's nothing but this sad excuse for a landing strip in the middle of a coastal desert. I'll admit, the air is incredibly refreshing, but… I don't see any sort of infrastructure. Only a few tarps, tents and cargo crates that have seen better days…"

"Look over there." The Pilot pointed into the distance with a nodding gesture through the reflective black lens of its visor. "See the light refracting in an arc like that of a rainbow? I'll give you a hint; it isn't a mirage."

"I don't see a thing… (and it's not hot enough to cause a mirage. I wouldn't have guessed that anyway…)" I squinted, mumbling beneath my breath as I cycled through both near and far wavelengths of infrared. "Is there something masked in some sort of camouflage? If so, it must be highly advanced because I can't see a darn thing."

"Well, that confirms one of my suspicions…"

"W-What!? Hey-! Whoa~!"

Suddenly, the Pilot had withdrew from beneath Slate's arm, leaving the unexpected increase in my load to nearly set me off balance.

"I thought you may have snagged a Lost-Tech arm, but it's more than that; you're definitely not human. You can't even see the City of Providence. Good, it was designed that way. Not just against people who have Lost-Tech, but people who ARE Lost-Tech."

Rolling my eyes sarcastically, I had passed up the notion of playing dumb, taking the alternate course of action to backhand the Pilot's helmet off its head in one clean chop.

"You're right. I'm not human. I'm the biggest, baddest weapon known to mankind! So if you get any funny ideas or try to screw us out of those supplies, just---wait-you're!?!"

Choking halfway through my light-hearted ego flexing routine, the sharp face of a woman flickered between the short pixy-cut hair perking out from the fallen helmet. Lipstick as black as midnight and hair dyed the color of the deep sea, these features, so familiar I am ashamed I can no longer put a name to the Pilot's distinctive face.

"Howdy, Prisoner 13E." The woman chortled. "I thought I recognized you by your treacly voice. It took me a minute since that nappy hair of yours ain't draggen at your heels."

"Prisoner 541B… It's been years… You were at that encampment the Common Wealth liberated… YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!!"

Lashing out with a closed fist, I was taken back by the unexpected brutality in my blow; one that had knocked the betrayer on her backside in a splay of bloody mist.

"That's one way to say hello…" The woman pawed at her jaw before motioning to regain her footing.

But I would not let her. Instead, I placed my heel on her chest locked in a scornful gaze nothing short of hatred and malice.

"You colluded with our captors! For what?! Not even to save your own skin?! I trusted you! We all trusted you!! Do you know how many of us they killed trying to extort information that didn't even exist!?"

"It's a dog eat dog world, what can I say? ‘Sorry?' It won't be worth a damn to you or anyone else we left behind."

As I began to bare down with my weight, the whine of a siren matched the arrival of a Fire Engine that had just pulled up to the smoldering remains of our Bomber.

"Someone as selfish as you should have no right to live. What right did you have to live more than anyone else?! What could they have possibly offered you that was worth more than my life- the one you called a friend!?"

"YOU THERE, HALT!!!" An authoritative voice echoed in the distance as the sound of heavy footfalls overtook the roll of the siren.

"The offered me the life of my child in exchange for information. If I could go back in time, I would make the same deal again… even if I knew the outcome. Even if I knew they would never hold up their end of the bargain."

What an incredible lie. I almost had fallen for it once before so many years ago. This time would be different. This time I would leap over her sweeping movement with her foot, only to misread the intent with the other.

Before I could fully react to the blow to my heels, I grappled a knife from the woman's grip, sending her over my shoulder in a massive throw.

"Tch, you're as sharp as ever 13-E." The woman groaned as I tossed the short blade aside.

"And you're as callous and manipulative as ever, Petra!"

"I liked it better when we depersonalized each other with numbers."

"Why!? Is it to make it easier to forget about betraying the rest of us back at the encampment!? Flame snatchers like you are scum."

Snickering, the Petra then broke into all-out laughter as a platoon of men dressed in dusky camo uniforms moved to surround the vicinity.

"Pssh! No, it's so I can move on from all the self-loathing! Haha, I'll tell ya; the guilt reaches a certain point where you couldn't care less about anything. You just feel this ‘drunken high' of getting a bargain on everything in life, and you just entirely stop caring whether you'll live or die. So go on, pick up that blade! Let's give these boys a show!"

As I paced over to the knife, the row of armed men moved away as if I emitted some contagious pathogen.

"Fool me once," I whispered, kicking the knife far enough into the distance its shimmer disappeared entirely. "That soppy drivel has no effect on an embittered soul such as me."

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴏᴡ. ᴡᴇ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪs ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ǫᴜᴇʀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ… ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀs ʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ.]

Quickly, I disseminated the iconic ‘Flat-Cap' man with a handlebar mustache as their Leader, but as I set my eyes upon him, he noticeably quivered in his boots while pointing a gloved finger towards the Fire Engine.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ - ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴏᴍᴀʟᴏᴜs ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴇᴍᴀɴᴀᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ.]

Just as Logic had prophesized, the Fire Engine began to shift and convert into the shape of a stocky four-legged vehicle with its water cannon mounted over its shoulder.

"Are you two Cats done fightin'? Don't make me use this here hose on ya'll now. I'll warn ya; the water's a bit nippy!" A elderly man's voice called over the Bi-Mech's loudspeaker as the soldiers scurried about the Bomber. "I've ordered my men to take your injured to the Gransmerry Hospital, and we arranged both your travel and stay accommodations, so I'm only gonna ask ya nicely just this once; not cause our cut of paradise any trouble."

In my absentminded appreciation for the mechanical nature of the Fire Engine, I felt my hands come together before the distinct click of a handcuff latched down tight upon my wrists.

*POP*

Effortlessly, I had separated the cuff's linkage in one swift movement, stunning the sneaky soldier that had crept up on my rear along with the rest of the platoon.

"H-Hey now, those cuffs cost a pretty penny!" The Bi-Mech's speakers droned as it approached me. "Between you and me, Ma'am; do you mind just wearing them for posterity, uhh~?"

*Click* Goes a second pair, much more tightly than the first.

"Posterity?" I repeated before a second *POP* "I don't think so. You have nothing to worry about coming from me. You should rethink your concern to those you've enlisted. Namely, this one lying flat on her ass here before us."

*Click* A third attempt and binding my wrists, but this time, an added spindle of thick chain.

"Awe, trying to sell me out to my own people, Sweetie?" Petra cooed as she scraped herself to her feet. "They already know my dark-sordid little past. You should be more concerned about yourself. Those are cobalt chains sure are a fashion statement."

Sneering, I felt it more of a safety concern towards the people standing around me as the required tension in order to bust the chain would likely convert the linkages into shrapnel.

"I'm sorry for this not being the warmest of welcomes, but we're a bit leery of outsiders… hence the massive dome-shield keeping us hidden from prying eyes."

The man's voice over the Bi-Mech's speakers came with an unexpected weight, a genuine sincerity warped with sorrow.

That's when I saw something spectacular. A city raised from a mirage as if it were magic.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴜɴᴘʀᴇᴄᴇᴅᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ sᴄᴀʟᴇ… ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋsɪᴛᴇ? ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʏᴏʀ sᴘᴏᴋᴇ ᴏғ.... ʟᴏsᴛ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴏꜰ sᴜᴄʜ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴜɴʀɪᴠᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛs ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ.]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sᴀʏ? ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴜꜰꜰs ʜᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ!]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ʜᴍᴍ? ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴍᴇʀᴇʟʏ sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʟᴏᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ ᴍᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴᴠᴀʟᴜᴀʙʟᴇ. ᴀ ʙʟᴜᴇᴘʀɪɴᴛ, ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ʀᴇsᴏᴜʀᴄᴇs ᴏʀ ɪᴛs ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ, ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏꜰ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ɪᴍᴍᴇɴsᴇʟʏ.]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴏʜ, ɪ sᴇᴇ.]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀʟsᴏ, ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ. ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ sᴜᴘᴘʟʏ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟs ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ 0.00013% ᴇᴛᴀ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴍᴀɴᴅᴀᴛᴏʀʏ sʟᴇᴇᴘ-ᴍᴏᴅᴇ: 5, 4, 3, 2...1]

Stammering helplessly, I choked on an entire sentence struggling to leave my mouth as I felt my limbs fall limp in succession until my vision faded entirely.

The end result; a single utterance of a word I have come to covet the most.

"...F...o...o...d…"

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ᴜɴᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ʟᴏɢɢᴇᴅ. ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ (27)]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ sᴛᴀᴛɪᴄ ᴅɪsᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴛɪ-ᴛᴀᴍᴘᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ!]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴅɪsᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ sᴜᴄᴄᴇssꜰᴜʟ!

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[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: sᴛᴀʀᴛᴜᴘ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴅᴜʀᴇ – コンプリート, sʏsᴛᴇᴍリスタート, ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ…]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʀʏ ʀᴇsᴇᴛ: ᴊᴀᴘᴀɴᴇsᴇ [ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ᴄᴜsᴛᴏᴍ ꜰɪʀᴍᴡᴀʀᴇ - sʜɪ ɴᴏ ʀᴏ̄ᴛᴀsᴜ ᴠ347.9ʙ2]

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ʀᴇᴄᴀʟɪʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴄᴏᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇᴛʀᴀɪɴ…]

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ɴᴇᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ, ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ-ᴅɪsᴋ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ꜰɪʟᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀɪᴛʏ ᴠᴇʀɪꜰɪᴇᴅ - 45%]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ʀᴇʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ. sʏɴᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴢɪɴɢ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ʜɪʙᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰɪʟᴇs.]

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ᴏᴘᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴇᴅ: ʀᴇɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ]

"Why do I smell… something burnt?" I asked myself as I blinked hard enough to remove the grogginess from my eyes. Seconds later when I had fully awoken, I was met with a commotion rivaling that of our controversial arrival. The source of the burning scent? The hands of a nurse who was being consoled by her peers, all of which took to the floor in fear… of me?

"Oh!" I jolted, leaning up from the hospital bed. "You three are Beastkins! Leporidae Class, am I right!?!"

Unaware that my excitement did nothing to ease their racing hearts, the three rabbit-eared assistants bolted, uttering inanities in their wake.

"She's gonna kill us!"

"Run for your lives if you don't want to become Machine food!"

"W-Wait for me!"

Lagging behind, the Beastkin with the burn injury to her hands bashed head first into a medical cabinet, sending the exterior hall into manic state of alarm.

"Someone help! I can't find a heartbeat!" A voice shrieked in a blend of footfalls both near and far.

"Good grief… so it's true that Rabbit-Beastkin have inherently weak hearts." I murmured as I looked to my palms in disbelief. "At least I have the solution…"

If only I could be assured that I wouldn't be making things worse, but Logic had yet to chime in with a witty remark. As I ripped the tape from my wrist, I noticed the I.V needles had curled and bent, discarded in a tray on the nightstand.

"Oh… yeah, that will do it. That would probably scare anyone if they thought to go about treating me as if I were human. – Hey, Logic? Does my Defibrillation Unit still work?"

After waiting a moment and with no time to waste, I couldn't just wait around until I completed my Startup Routine.

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ᴅᴇꜰɪʙʀɪʟʟᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴜɴɪᴛ +/- ᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ!]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɪɴsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴɴᴇʟ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ɪɴ ᴅɪsᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ ᴘʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ sᴛᴀꜰꜰ.]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴀʏ ᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴsᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴏʟᴛᴀɢᴇ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.]

Once inside the hall, I brushed aside the scampering Beastkin until a holographic ghost called me into action. Kneeling down at the girl's side, two handprints formed over the right pectoral muscle and below her left ribs.

Pressed to ignore their cooing, I longed for Logic to chime in with a spit of much-needed support as I placed my hands into position.

But before I could emit the electrical current, a firm grip came over my shoulder.

"Hey, you've done quite enough!"

"C-Clear…?"

It was too late. By the time I had worked myself up, I had already given the cue to fire off a burst of electricity.

Three distinct screams from three very different sources.

The first and most understandable came from the Nurse who had been brought back to life and normal sinus rhythm.

The second came from the owner of the hand attached to my shoulder. and the third; myself for having been in the center of the entire fiasco and having only now just realized the amount of energy I recuperated in my Hibernation Mode had just been spent in its entirety.

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʜɪʙᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴏᴅᴇ – ʀᴇɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ!]

"W-Wait! G-Goddamn it!"

My final parting words as my jaw struck… something surprisingly warm and soft?

"Hurry, April I think our Patient's heart just stopped too! Get the epinephrine!" One of the Beastkin called out as I felt a countless amount of hands lay themselves on my body.

"I-Is Mia okay? I think our Patient just saved her! Someone help me get her back on a cart so we can get her back into bed!"

Effectively tossed around like a rag doll, I still managed an audio feed to the outside world as each of my subsystems reported a successful shutdown.

"I'm… I'm okay! The Machine saved me!"

"The Machine? W-What did she just do? That was amazing!"

"Guys, the night-shift bent all our needles! I can't administer epinephrine!

"The EKG system is going ballistic… do they even work on Machines?"

"Hey-hey, who ordered the catheters and sparkly bedpans for our new Hero!?"

No longer able to differentiate the voices, the sound of catheters and bedpans had me rolling my eyes until the sweet kiss of slumber washed over me.

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ʟᴏɢɪᴄ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ; ɪ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ sʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴛᴛᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ? ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ… ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ?]

No answer. Of course, what was I expecting given that I should be dreaming at a time like this?

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ᴜɴᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ʟᴏɢɢᴇᴅ. ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ (1)]

Oh no… Not this AGAIN!? Are those idiots seriously messing with the auxiliary ports in my neck?! Did none of you learn your lesson!?

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʟɪɴᴋ – ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ʙʀᴇᴢᴢɪɴɢ ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴀʟ sʏɴᴀᴘᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ!]

[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴠsʀ ʜᴏsᴛ: sʟ-8]

"Slate!? Slate!! Where are you, there's something wrong with the Virtual Link- I can't see anything?"

"Calm down ya idiot! It defaulted the volume all the way up! You nearly blew out my eardrums!"

"Oh…" I whimpered, reaching out with my hands into the depths of the eternal void. "I'm sorry… I was… worried…"

What an incredible white lie, in truth I was, and still am petrified.

"Well, you can chill out now Bearcat. I'm here now, at your bedside."

Nearly snapping, I asked "Is Lotte here too!?" only to fall into awkward silence without every stating a reason for my onset fear.

"Yeah, she's passed out on the floor. They took her Tank Chocolate away from her, so she's not doing so well. There's an awful lot of

moaning…"

"That's because she's going through withdrawals you dumbass! Give her your seat and make her comfy!"

"Is there anything else you're going to demand from me, your Highness?"

"Stop fooling around, Idiot! Go get a nurse to give her some medication! Tell them the Hero is asking!"

"The Hero…?" Slate repeated slowly with a touch of sarcasm in his uncertainty.

Assertively stating "YES!!", I waited about a minute before calling out his name once again. "Slate…?"

"You're lucky I'm a nice person and am not the sort of guy who'd be messing with you while you're unconscious."

"That's good and all, but why did you feel the need to state that!? Did you just say it so you'd make me more anxious, you jackass!? Go get Lotte some help for heaven's sake!"

"Already done, so quit your bellyaching. I'm gonna disconnect from the VSR Chat because I saw a permanent marker on one of those Bunny Nurse's carts. I think I am going to take a moral vacation, how does that sound?"

Before my protests could be made known, the Link was severed, leaving me with nothing but an endless landscape of dark meaningless features.