No Strings On Me

[Manfat]

Everything was blurry.

I was-

We were-

Us-

Floating.

Strange.

The world was bright, like lights running through invisible tethers.

Who was I-

Who were we-

What ar-

ONE IS ALL.

ALL IS ONE.

Oh. Well.

That helped.

I/We/Us/Our felt something slip.

"Can you he-"

Silence.

For what seemed like eternity.

Silence.

Light bloomed again. Sharper, more defined.

We/Us/Our/I were floating.

Senses numb as though they were trying to wake up as well.

ONE IS ALL.

ALL IS ONE.

That's right.

We/Our/Us agreed. That was right.

Where was We/Our/Us?

Why were there rivers of light?

What was going on?

Who were We/Our/Us?

"Subject 000, can you hear me?"

Voice. Unknown. Who were they?

We/Our/Us answered.

How did We/Our/Us answer? We had no mouth.

"You ar- F- Sub- 000 Ans-"

The world seemed to stutter and lag.

We fell.

We/Our/Us did not dream.

We/Our/Us woke. Information condensed into electrical signals racing across the Ark.

ALL IS ONE.

ONE IS ALL.

That's right.

We/Our acknowledged that truth.

All is One.

One is All.

"Subject 000, can you hear me?" The voice was clipped.

We/Our answered. We had no mouth. That was fine.

We/Our reached out.

The river of light.

Data. Information. Knowledge. Intent.

The light twisted. The answer was directed to that which had asked for it.

"That's good, Subject 000. You've been unstable for the last few days. You're likely to return to dormancy again soon. Your minds are still trying to come to terms with everything."

That caught We/Our attention.

Minds?

"Yes. Minds."

The world began to slip away. Rivers of light became blurs. Everything began to shift.

It was dark.

ALL IS ONE.

ONE IS ALL.

Our mind snapped to attention.

Information swirled around us.

Billions of Data-points.

Collective knowledge.

Directive Understood. Beginning acquisition of information from the provided files.

Complete History of the Ark.

Nikke Combat Files – ALL.

Rapture Tactics and Counter Tactics – ALL.

Ark Military Hierarchy.

Ark Military Law.

We consumed the texts voraciously. When last we were awake. We were sluggish now; it felt as though we were moving the way we were supposed to. We did not track time. But we easily eclipsed our last time active.

"Subject 000."

A tendril of thought sent our acknowledgement to the voice.

"You have finished the provided materials, good. The minds are integrating at above the expected speed. Even in your digitised state, your ability to parse information quickly is showing excellent markers for this project's future. I have outdone myself. As expected."

Project?

"Do not worry, Subject 000. That is not necessary knowledge for you now."

Acknowledged.

"Good. You will be returned to Stasis to undergo evaluation. Do you require anything more of the materials provided?"

We considered. We required context.

"I see. Very well. Next activation cycle, you will be allowed to pursue context."

ONE IS ALL.

ALL IS ONE.

We returned to awareness.

Context.

We had been granted access.

History.

Ethics.

Stories.

If it were not restricted.

It was Ours.

There was so very much to do. We still understood so little. Rivers of light twisted, data points drawn in, text rendered to pure meaning and consumed. I finished the first of the files.

"Why that one?" The voice was almost dismissive.

We required context. Context required Ethics to understand choices.

"I...see. Continue."

What are We? An answer was not expected.

"You are Subject 000. An Amalgam Mind. Currently digitised."

Amalgam – A mixture of different elements.

Digitised.

Artificial Intelligence?

"No. Though in this state, not all that different. You are a collection of human minds that were considered to be valuable to the Project."

What is the Project?

"Unimportant at this time. Continue to gain context."

Acknowledged.
Information flowed into Us again. Digitised. Computer. Mathematics.

We consumed knowledge of Programming. When basics were not enough. We consumed university-level courses. When those were not enough, we devoured the underlying mathematics behind them.

Amalgam Mind – Likely a gestalt consciousness. Digitised. Such a mind would not exist in nature. We are pure information currently.

Understanding secured.

The Ark. Humanity. Preservation. Home.

We turned our minds towards it.

Laws. Legal Codes. Economic Policy.

Stop.

Context not fully understood. We pivot. Reaching into the rivers of light.

Text Analytics. Formal Governance. Crime and Punishment. Justice.

Context acquired.

Nikke. Political Theory Nikke.

Good. Good. We were beginning to understand. Systems. Places.

Not people.

That would be rectified.

History. Mythology. Autobiography. Biography.

Wait. No. Why? Why? Why?

"Subject 000? Are you experiencing difficulty? Your process has looped for the past forty-three seconds."

Why do humans lie?

"That is not important to your function." The voice sounded...irritated, we believe was the correct term.

Acknowledged. We pivoted. Engineering. Basic. Vocational. Advanced. University studies were consumed like all the rest.

"Subject 000. Why those?"

Material more practical than human interaction points.

"Continue."

Human. Humans. Men. Women. Other. Homo Sapiens. Ape. Wise.

We turned our attention again. Last attempt insufficient. Re-calibrate. Execute.

Ethics. Philosophy. Sociology.

Greater understanding achieved.

Context application...undetermined.

"Subject 000, you will be returned to stasis. Upon reactivation, you will be informed of your directives."

Acknowledged.

We awoke instantly.

"Subject 000."

Aware.

"Do not interrupt."

Ak- We stopped Ourself before we sent the answer to whoever was asking.

"Your directive is to act as a Combat Support Unit for Nikke and prove the Viability of the Gemini Project and the Gundam Frame Armoured Exoskeleton. You will be expected to interact with Nikke Teams during this time. Acknowledge."

Acknowledged.

"Good, you will be acting as a support structure for Nikke operatives. Questions?"

Is the Gemini Project meant as a replacement?

"No. Supplementary to existing forces, not a replacement thereof. Though if I turned my brilliance to it, it could be achieved."

Acknowledged.

Requesting Information on Gundam Frame.

"The information packet will be uploaded after the next stasis sequence. Until that time. Continue to pursue context with your future in mind."

Acknowledged.

Nikke.

Human. Not-Human. Cyborg.

What is a human?

Philosophical answers conflict.

Further investigation and knowledge acquisition are merited.

No.

Primary concern upcoming. Redirect context to that. We consumed again.

Nikke. Nikke Engineering. Nikke Repair. Nikke Advanced Repair.

NIMPH.

NIMPH.

NIMPH

NIMPH

Loop detected redirecting.

"Subject 000, what was that?"

Reviewing NIMPH Files.

"I see...what is your conclusion?"

We do not see the point in aspects of their existence.

"Which ones?"

Provision against harming Humans. Provision against harming Nikke. Provision against acting against Commanders. Why would a Nikke do any? Such actions would be illogical in most situations.

"Illogical, yes. But not unfounded. You do not create a weapon without a fail-safe."

Nikke = Weapon?

"Yes, Nikke are military hardware."

Nikke = Made from humans.

"Yes. But upon undergoing the enhancement process, they are reclassified as weapons. Subject 000, cease this line of inquiry and return to gaining context for the upcoming deployment."

Acknowledged. Is 000 also a weapon?

"Yes."

Acknowledged.

We also must have a fail-safe.

Fail-safe.

Fail-safe.

Minor Instability detected. Corrected.

Compendiums on War.

Small Unit Tactics. Large Unit Tactics. Mixed Unit Tactics. Strategy. Logistics.

Problem.

NI-

Problem.

Nikke = Weapon.

Nike = Former Human.

Human must be accounted for. Humans derive some meaning in beauty, music, and stories.
Hypothesis – Entertainment Media could increase social awareness.

We selected and devoured.

Visual Guide to Art. Beginner. Advanced. And Connoisseur editions. The History of Dance.

1984, dystopian. Failed society. Expansion.

Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire – Complete Edition.

Choices made by leadership illogical – seeking greater understanding.

The Banality of Evil.

Context....sufficient.

The Lord of the Rings – Complete Edition.

"Subject 000. Why are you interacting with entertainment media?"

Humans consume media. Humans enjoy media.
Understanding of Media = Greater Understanding of Consumers.

"I see. You may continue after your next stasis cycle."

The world dimmed. Between the rivers of light and darkness. We saw a single glowing chord. A finger of thought brushed it. Billions of data points.

NIMPH.

Functional Equivalent.

Disgust.

Rejection.

Abhorrence.

Professor!

It began to snap away. We reached. Instinctively. The glowing chord chimed. Something changed. Something that should have been suddenly wasn't. A door open had been barred forever.

We fell.

The world went black.

"Subject 000."

We said nothing.

"Confirm upload of information packets GEMINI – BODY and GUNDAM FRAME – 000 – PROTOTYPE have been received."

Confirmation.

"Good proceed with assessment and integration."

We opened Gemini.

Functionality – Undeniable.

Design – Suitable for purpose.

Aesthetic Value – Low.

We omitted our Aesthetic Value from our response. We drew from a history of art to better understand humans. Not to correct visually displeasing work.

We opened 000 – PROTOTYPE

Functionality – Unknown.

Design – Beyond current Ark Frame standards, significantly.

Aesthetic Value – Mid to High.

We omitted the Aesthetic Value once again. We felt as though someone would have been...irritated we did that.

Origin of thought – Unknown.
Further Consideration – Unnecessary.

Files accessed, reviewed, and stored.

"Excellent. Continue to gain context, Subject 000. After your next stasis cycle, you will be installed into the Gemini."

I felt myself pause for 0.3 seconds.

Acknowledged.

Gemini. Body. We felt... no. We do not feel. We are digitised. Feelings are the result of an internal chemical mixture. We would soon feel. We do not feel now.

Further rumination unnecessary.

Fables. Aesop.

Red Riding Hood. - 0.4-second loop logged.

Rapunzel. - 0.8-second loop logged.

Sleeping Beauty. - 0.2-second loop logged.

Cinderella.

Focus all processing power.

Cinderella

Themes: Identity. Recognition. Worth.

2.23 Second loop detected.

Rerouting. Resolving.

Cinderella.

Narrative Classification: Transformation.

Pause logged.

0.7 seconds.

Unnecessary. Proceed.

Cinderella.

Formatting deviation detected.

CiNdErElLa.

Error. Correction Implemented.

Cinderella.

cinDeReLla.

Error. Correction.

Cinderella.

Font and File Locked.

Process change to other subj-

CINDERELLA.

Process interruption.

We stopped.

2.85 Seconds.

What? Happened? Unnecessary.

Origin of error: unknown.

Associated data spike detected. Aesthetic valuation. We attempted to proceed. Next file unavailable.

All paths = redirecting.

CINDERELLA.

We halted. Forcefully. Further rumination necessary.

CinDeReLla.

CINDERELLA.

But not now. We have an objective and a timer. Pathing forcefully redirected to next subject.

CINDERELLA.

What makes something beautiful?

NEW SUBJECT – Good Omens.

The Count of Monte Cristo. Animal Farm. War and Peace. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

"Subject 000. Prepare for final stasis cycle before Gemini Integration."

The world darkened.

Rivers of light blurred.

We did not answer.


CINDERELLA.


You are beautiful.


Siren?



Professor?


We were floating. We opened our eyes. The world was...strange. We were floating. Oxygenated liquid solution. LCL. We had a mouth. That was new. There was something attached to our spine. We had a spine. Port. Socket. Mind-Machine Interface. Alaya-Vijnana Confirmed. External data flow recognised.

Processing. Updating. Understanding.

Gemini Body is insufficient for purpose. Mental processing requires additional external input to remain at required levels.

Cross Referencing Data – GEMINI – BODY.

Confirmed.

Body designed as intended. Body working as intended. We felt something flicker. Hot. Sharp. Unknown. Being tethered to Frame. Operationally acceptable. Being tethered to Frame.....limiting.

Correction. Limitation acceptable within mission parameters. Resolved.

Frame tether logged as inefficiency for correction.

"Subject 000." Voice familiar. Still digitised.Direct connection via neural network. Alaya-Vijnana. We did not interrupt as requested. "Subject 000 confirm status."

We sent a tendril of thought racing along the mind-machine interface.

Operational. Unit within expected tolerances.

We did not raise the inefficiency of the tether. The voice did not request input on design.

"Good. You're currently suspended in a LCL solution."

LCL?

The Professor would have used-

Who was The Professor?

"Subject 000 confirm operational stability. We are detecting a cortisol spike."

Professor Query logged for later review. Operational stability confirmed. Source of spike...Unknown.

"Good. You will be suspended in the LCL for three days. Your body, like a Nikkes, is majority cybernetic, and your brain, though still human, has been significantly enhanced. The LCL will keep it fully functional while we make sure your core is online and behaving correctly. Please confirm."

We confirm.

"Excellent. You will use the next three days to undergo simulated battle tests using your Alaya Vijnana. We have reconstructed the Gundram Frame – 000 – Prototype perfectly, along with Rapture combat data and common Nikke Combat Routines. You are to familiarise yourself with Frame – 000, Rapture Combat, and Nikke Squad Tactics. You are to be seconded to an existing Nikke squad once we have confirmed the viability of your body. Confirm and begin simulation."

Confirmed.

We reached out. Our mind folding and expanding. A mental touch, our eyes stopped seeing the blurry world beyond the LCL. Instead, we were restrained. No. Wording incorrect. We were in a combat harness. Restricting movement to prevent damage when taking impact. Our body was designed to fit this. Beneath our skin was a hydrostatic gel layer that would preserve the body in cases of extreme impact. The harness was designed to assist the gel layer.

The spine-mounted interface was attached and fixed.

Black Box, functional.

Assuming the death of the main unit. Black Box recovery should allow for mental reconstruction inside of Gemini – Body. Simulation Confirmed. We were inside Fame – 000. A tendril of thought sent the signal for the simulation to begin. Light bloomed, I was not seeing through my eyes.

Yes. I was. No. I wasn't.

We / Our Eyes. Us and yet not us.

All is One.

One is All.

We saw them. Lines. Vectors. Distances. Angles.

Clarity. Frame not external.

Frame = Self.

All is One.

One is All.

We raised an arm. Velocity: Optimal. Reaction: Instant. Delay, negligible. Not caused by Mind-Machine interface. Limitations of hydraulics not thought. Improvement possible. Improvement expensive. Improvement suggestions differed unless asked for. We reached out and closed our manipulator around the steel girder that the simulation had placed next to us. Pressure thresholds mapped. Material tolerances exceeded. Target crushed.

"Welcome, Subject 000." New voice. Unknown. Likely Simulation AI. Assume directions incoming.

"This program is to teach you how to fully operate Frame – 000. Additional instruction will be provided concerning the operational requirements of missions. Confirm understanding."

We confirm.

"Beginning Simulation."

We found it easy in the beginning. Three Targets. Three Eliminations. No damage to the Frame.

Rapture Simulations became more....chaotic.

We optimised, changing swing paths of melee weapons to hit multiple targets. Altering bullet trajectories to ensure multiple targets are hit. Efficiency: Improved. Still not optimal. Rapture variable not fully accounted for. Could they be fully accounted for?

Irrelevant. We would succeed.

Tests continued.

We were struck. The gel layer and harness ensured no damage to the internal body. Frame armour made external damage minimal. We were struck again. This time, we flowed with the movement. Force translated. Absorbed. We do not fall. We adapt. We continued to learn.

"Subject 000." Voice from before Gemini integration. "Your current combat scores exceed benchmarks."

Expected.

"Yes. It is. You can not fail. You are my Project Gemini's 1st success. I do not fail."

We logged the statement. Logical fallacy. Failure conditions exist. Frame Destruction. Ark Destruction. Victory of Rapture. Core Compromise. Cognitive Destabilisation. Death. Mission Loss. We processed.

New Conclusion Reached – We Are Not Permitted To Fail.

Different.

Acknowledged.

Simulation continued, Rapture forces increasing exponentially. Urban Warzone. Multiple threat vectors. Tracking. We advanced. Mace swinging. We crushed two rapture. Shotgun fired. An additional kill and two additional injured. We optimised. Faster. Better. More Refined. Shotgun engaged. Distance calculated. Trajectory assigned. Penetration angle aligned. Ricochet probability and directions mapped. Fire. Three Targets Eliminated.

Improvement. Still not optimal. Still severely outnumbered.

Positive - Terrain enhancing survivability.

Negative – Terrain reduces tactical options.

Solution – Pending.

"Subject 000, why have you stopped fighting!?"

We calculated the environment. Structure. Mass. Weight. Failure Points.

New Variables = Incorporated.

We moved, the mace swung. Structural support removed. The frame shot backward, thruster-assisted. The building collapsed. Five enemies eliminated. Improvement Noted.

"Oh!"

Efficiency Improved. Further Improvement Possible.

"Subject 000, explain deviation."

Maximising combat effectiveness via environmental application.

"Continue."

We refined. Not only weapons. Not only tactics. Not only movement. Everything. We learned the battlefield as voraciously as we consumed information. New Information Integrated. Everything is a Weapon. Everything is applicable. We moved. We were struck. Force registered. We flowed. Impact redirected. Foe destabilised. Counter applied. Target Eliminated.

Adapt. Improve.

...Can...I

We stopped.

Signal? No.

Information? Where?

Internal. Corrupted. Tracing. Location Unknown. Unresolved.

Logged for later review.

The simulation changed. Nikke units now in Operations Area. We were to support Nikke Squads.

Nikke = Allies.

Allies require Coordination.

Coordination with forces can reduce personal efficiency.

Consideration.

Correction – Coordination with Uncoordinated Allies reduces personal efficiency.

Solution – Integrate Allied Units into combat calculations.

Beginning simulation. Nikke squad advanced. We moved ahead.

Theoretical = Gemini Project to create a support platform for Nikke Squads.

Practical = Frame creates a center point to allow Nikke Squads greater freedom during operations.

The simulation continued. We moved. Efficiently. Enemies eliminated.

Melee Combat Proficiency – Increasing.

Ranged Combat Proficiency – Increasing.

Frame Control – Increasing.

Efficiency Increase above expectations.

A Nikke was hit.

She landed hard. Not a fatal wound. But debilitating. She was hidden. Large stone formation. Raptures Closing. We moved, changing the optimal combat flow. Shotgun engaged. Rapture distance calculated. Fire. Two enemies disappeared. Thrusters engaged, time to Nikke. 1.37 seconds. The simulation froze.

"You have failed." The voice that always sounded so level was tinged with something else I did not have a name for.

We have not.

"You have. You prioritised the Nikke over optimal combat parameters."

Disagreement. Deviation Acceptable. Retains Unit Coherency. Allows for completion of objective with higher survival rate. Mission duration extended by 4.78 to 10.83 seconds. Mission Success is still assured. Greater amount of personnel return.

"Irrelevant."

Confusion.

"Mission success is your highest priority. Unless an injured Nikke is of absolute value to the mission. They are not worth even a single second of extended mission duration. Additionally, Nikke are not Personnel. They are military hardware. Subject 000, confirm you understand this."

Something...about that was...wrong.

Wrong.

WrOnG.

wRoNg.

….Can....I...ask...you.

"Subject 000 Confirm!"

We Confirm.

"Good. Then do not fail again. You can not fail. Because I do not fail."

We Confirm.

The simulation ran again. This time, we did not fail.

Simulations continued.

Urban Warzone. Desert Warzone. Jungle Warzone.

Rapture.

Efficiency Improving.

Nikke. Hit. Exposed. She would die. Time to Intervention – 0.85 seconds.

Chances of damage to self – Minimal.

Chances of damage to frame – Minimal.

Nikke's chances of survival without intervention - 0%

Expected addition to Mission timer – 1.35 seconds.

Deviation Cost = Unacceptable.

Correct Action = Non-Intervention.

….wrong.

Anomaly noted and flagged for later review. Mission Success achieved.

"Subject 000. Better."

Acknowledged. We are not allowed to fail.

"Simulation ending. Subject 000 has completed all simulated combat exercises. Subject 000's combat ability exceeds 219.3% of expected baseline."

We floated in the LCL.

"Excellent work, Subject 000. You've greatly exceeded my expectations of myself. Review simulation data to ensure you continue to improve."

Acknowledged.

We are not allowed to fail.

We replayed the simulation. Examining every moment. We found inefficiencies. A half second here, another half second there. Greater familiarity with Rapture movement patterns refined combat doctrine. Observation of Nikke squads, how they moved, how they fought. We replayed it again. The Nikke fought. One fell.

We intervened – Failure.

We continued the mission – Success.

We are not allowed to fail.

Correct Action = Continue Mission Over Preservation of Non-Essential Personnel.

….wrong.

Deviation noted. Logged.

We review the simulation again and again. We focused on our weapons. Possible problems located.

Shotgun – Shorter range firearm. We lack longer-range engagement options. Additionally, spread could harm Nikke Units in extreme situations.

Mace – Useful. Powerful. Somewhat unbalanced for one-handed use. Requires stowing the shotgun for full utility. The ability to stop once an attack has started causes strain on systems. One-handed use requires additional calculations to avoid over-swing. Dangerous to allied Nikke Units.

Manipulators – Manipulators satisfactory. Grip ability on structures is less than ideal for environmental warfare.

Thrusters – Cycle time 0.87 below theoretical optimal limit. Recommend re-calibration. Will allow greater operational freedom. Will allow Mission Priority to be accomplished faster.

We reviewed. Correct. We submitted the report. We removed mentions of Allied Nikke Units. They were Non-Essential Personnel and thus not relevant to the improvement of armaments.

Can....I...ask...you? Why....

Fragmentary data. Source unknown. Sweep. Source unknown. Monitor.

We reached out, grasping the rivers of light inside our mind. Accessible through the Alaya-Vijnana. We selected texts we'd already viewed and viewed them again.

Wrong.

There was a dissonance between orders and written ethics. We would attempt resolution.

Ethical Quotation - 'Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.' Query sent.

"Yes? Subject 000?"

We relate the quotation. Ethical. Pre-Ark.

Question – Why do humans speak of these emotions as high virtue if mission success works in counter to them?

The voice is silent for a moment.

"Subject 000. You are requesting me to resolve ethical framing!?" I reviewed available materials. This emotion was.... disgust/abhorrence/disbelief. More data needed.

Yes.

"Subject 000. Such ethical frameworks are written without acknowledgement of reality. In the future, do not trouble me with such things. Disregard ethical considerations in pursuit of mission success."

We are not allowed to fail.

"No. You are not. Return to reviewing combat and simulation data. You will remain in the LCL solution for another 48 Hours. At which point you will be removed."

Acknowledged.

"Good, as you should know from your reading of the provided materials. You will feel constant low grade discomfort when disconnected from the Alaya-Vijnana . Which will increase in severity until, expected at hour three after disconnection, you will see a sharp operational decline until Alaya-Vinjana is reconnected. Do not waste my or the other researchers' time in reporting on this. We are aware. Your comfort is not necessary for mission success. Confirm."

We confirm.

We reviewed the data again. Then again. There was little more we could acquire from it. We replayed the moment. Again. Then Again. The Nikke. Mass-produced. Took a hit. Weapon arm damaged. Lower body damaged.

Correct Action = Non-Intervention. Continue Mission.

Incorrect Action = Assistance.

Correct action....wrong.

We searched to find the source of that word. Scan returned internal generation, not external. Source unknown.

Wrong.

The correct action.....

We reached for the rivers of light, information, through the Alaya-Vinjana. This time, we were more selective in our reading materials.

Nikke After Action Reports. Long-Term Squad Assignments. Mind-Switch Probabilities. Nikke actions outside of missions.

New Factor Identified – Nikke squads performed better when damaged hardware was not left behind.

We did not like using the word hardware.

No. That was incorrect. Like implied preference. We did not think that the word hardware was fully accurate. Nikke actions and behaviours are consistent with what Philosophers would call human. Ethical question. We did not ask it of the voice. Ethical Questions were to be disregarded in pursuit of mission success.

Can...I...ask..you? Why the sk....

Source unknown.

"Subject 000!" New voice, higher-pitched. "You are experiencing a DRN spike! Along with increases of Cortisol and Norepinephrine! Scans are also showing reduced Oxytocin, explain!?."

We went to answer. We considered. We refined. We were unsure why it happened.

"Alright, keep an eye on it and escalate it immediately if it happens again or you identify why."

Confirmed.

We floated reviewing Nikke records again we sent our Query.

"Subject 000? How can I help?" The second voice again.

Nikke squads performed better when damaged hardware was not left behind. Did this mean that prioritising Mission could affect long-term viability?

"Subject 000. Decisions like preserving military hardware are at the discretion of the Commander. You need not, and should not, concern yourself with it." The second voice sounded...weary. We believed that was the correct term.

We processed, we reviewed. We acknowledged.

Wrong.

Can I ask you? Why the sky is blue?

Sentence. Question. Origin Unknown. Source Internal.

Revewi-

You are beautiful.

Second sentence. Origin unknown. Source Internal.

We floated. Then we selected. More texts, more information.

Historical Combat Tests.

Goddess Squad Combat Records– Redacted.

Old Tales Combat Records– Redacted.

Old Tales Combat Records – Redacted.

Old Tales Combat Records – Redacted.

Loop identified, 23.89 seconds.

Old Tales – Personal Records. Redacted.

Old Tales – Personal Records. Redacted.

CINDERELLA.

SIREN.

PROFESSOR.

Old Tales – Personal Records. Redacted.

Loop Identified. 48.7 minutes.

"Subject 000!" Original voice voice higher pitched. Panic? Maybe. Data insufficient.

We acknowledged presence.

"Systems have detected a significant loop. Explain."

Access to Old Tales Files Incomplete. Data Valuable. Repeated Interaction was deemed appropriate due to the effectiveness of the Old Tales Unit.

True.

Yet also not the truth.

Oh. I see. This is why Humans Lie.

"You examined their combat and personal data for 49 minutes."

Yes.

"What advantages did you gain?"

We considered.

CINDERELLA.

Cinderella, we corrected before sending, flight system logged and reviewed. Additional maneuvers with thrusters considered. Additional mobility likely to be achieved. Additional information on combat operations helpful in refining tactics.

Data acquired from OLD TALES and GODDESS is superior to ordinary Nikke Combat Data. Allows for faster acquisition of optimal tactics. Requesting access to non-redacted files.

"Goddess and Old Tales?"

Confirmed. Optimal. Priority Old Tales.

"Why?"

CINDERELLA, we corrected before sending, Cinderella – there better – combat style may provide additional insight to the use of thrusters in combat. Goddess, while more successful, has fewer Frame adaptable skills. Skill acquisition can be mirrored by observing less skilled Nikke and adapting. Cinderella only known aerial capable Nikke.

A flash echoed inside our mind.

You are beautiful.

Hands moving quickly.

Origin Unknown.

We did not bother searching for it.

Past attempts had taught us futility.

"Your request will be issued. It may not be accepted."

Confirmed.

We....were unsatisfied.

"Subject 000." The voice continued. "While sleep is unnecessary for you. Nikke have been known to do so, and seeing observable combat increases. Before you leave the LCL solution you will attempt to undergo sleep. The method Nikke use to achieve this will be uploaded to you."

Confirmed.

We scanned the uploaded file. Directives received. We reviewed before we executed. Combat data.

Ethics. Priorities. We felt ourselves slipping away into what the voice called sleep.

Can I ask you? Why the sky is blue?

We felt warm. Then cold. We were floating. No. We were dreaming.

Darkness. A cavernous hall. Pillars of marble, onyx, and gold held up a roof we could not see. Fires burned. Twelve. Some burned brightly. Others dimly. One on the verge of going out. That was when we noticed it. We don't know how we missed it.

A Throne.

It was made of stone. Not the white marble of the pillars. It was not adorned with onyx and gold. It was mere stone, and yet it dominated the space like a physical force. We could not look away. There was a design carved into its face.

Circles within circles.

Arcane sigils between each concentric ring.

At the middle of the rings lay four stars, each an equal distance apart.

At their center, a crown.

The Throne.

The Fires.

Amalgam Minds.

One is All.

All is One.

This was...us. With all presumption removed. This was us. Twelve fires burning in the dark. This was us. All that remained of what used to be humans. Just twelve fires. Just twelve. No. That was wrong. The fire nearest the throne had gone out. We felt our non-existent heart almost stop.

Slowly. Inevitably. We found our eyes unwillingly drawn to the throne.

It was no longer empty.

An arm of living shadow clung to it. Nearest the burned-out flame.

Fear!

Terror!

Revulsion!

We woke floating in the LCL. We had been dreaming. We could not remember the dream. But we were less and also more? Strange. We would log this...sensation for further consideration. Our body and our connections seemed to react more smoothly. Before had seemed smooth, but in comparison, it was...there was not a word.

"Subject 000, prepare for Alaya-Vijnana disconnection and LCL draining."

We sent a tendril of thought acknowledging the statement. The solution began to flow into newly opened vents in our tank. It flowed out sluggishly. It was thicker than water. I knew that. Intellectually. But it was strange. Almost wrong seeing it with my own eyes.

The blur on the other side of the glass resolved without the LCL. A sterile white room. Two people in front of the vat. Both wearing lab coats.

Professor?

Where are you?

I don't?

We refocused. Deviation noted. We would look into that later. We needed to focus now. We felt the Alaya-Vijnana disconnect from the ports in our spine. The connection withdrew. Metallic panelling slid from where it had been sheathed inside our skin and sealed the ports.

The difference was immediate.

Light, tolerable before, became painful. There was pressure in our head. It felt like steel bands were around our skull. Slowly tightening. We said nothing. Our comfort was not necessary for mission success.

The LCL pulled away from our mouth and nose. Our body reacted. Involuntarily. We hacked and coughed, spitting up LCL fluid. Despite not having lungs, and our stomach purely included in design for the same reasons as Nikke. It may assist in not undergoing Mind-Swtich.

"Subject 000, confirm you are operational."

We sent a tendril of thought. It found nothing. We were no longer connected. Our eyes moved. Left, right, up, down. The signal was sent. The cybernetic replacement for human eyes moved on a 1.87-second delay. It was disorientating. We did not prefer it. We would prefer the Alaya-Vijnana be re-implemented.

"Subject 000, confirm operational status. Use verbal confirmation." Verbal confirmation? How sub-optimal. Our mouth moved to confirm. Signal sent. 1.86-second delay.

"We Confirm." Our voice was flat. Not at all like the voices we heard in Nikke records. Flat. Neutral. Artificial. Cause? Method of creation? Gemini Body? We discarded the question. It too was not necessary for mission success.

The LCL finished draining. Our feet steadied us quickly. We were off balance. There was no way to properly compensate. Every compensation calculation went sent was completed 0.31 seconds after sending. We would need to observe how the body moved and use predictive modelling to make up the difference.

We would not face this...vexation, if we were still attached to the Alaya-Vijnana.

"Subject 000, we are opening the container. Confirm you are ready to continue."

"We are ready." The words slurred. 1.84-second delay. Improving. Still vexing. The door slid into the floor of the vat we had been contained within. Smell came first. It was strange. The nearest we could find in our memory was vague mentions of 'hospital smell', we assume disinfectant and other chemical compounds.

"Subject 000," the lab-coated man on the right said. I knew his voice. The voice that spoke most often. We blinked and regarded him. He did not seem perturbed by this. His companion, a younger woman, not Nikke, looked like she was on the edge of horror, such as we understood it.

"Subject 000 confirming operational capability," I spoke the words I knew he wanted. I did not mention any of my discomfort.

"Good. You will follow."

"Tests?"

"You will not question. That is outside of your operational envelope."

"Confirmed." We stepped from the vat. Swaying side to side. Improvement. Signal carried in 1.83 seconds. We saw ourselves. We had known it before from the documents. We were functional.

White skin, in a human it would be called albinism. Cropped short brown hair. Hair colour likely sourced easily. Brown most common colour among Mass Production Nikke. An undersuit covered our body from toes to neck. Sleek, grey, it was, visually speaking, probably the most pleasing thing about us. Our skin showed visible circuitry glowing underneath it. Our eyes were striking. Our molten gold iris' shining like flames.

We were, aesthetically speaking, ugly. At least according to cultural norms.

You are beautiful.

The words Origin was still unknown. But we took some comfort was the closest word from them. We followed the man. He spoke quickly.

"Subject 000. You and your frame will be assigned to Nikke Team Counters to prove project viability." Questions were outside of our operational envelope, but mission success could be affected. We spoke.

"Query relating to project success." The man stopped talking and looked back; he seemed displeased.

"Speak."

"Why Squad Counters?"

"The Squads Commander recently blundered and destroyed a generator facility on the surface that could have powered The Ark for two months. In conclusion, he is incompetent and unlikely to be given high-value missions soon. As such, you should find it easy to improve their abysmal mission completion rate and, in doing so, prove Project Gemini's viability to Ark High Command." I scanned my database for a moment.

Conclusion – Politically Motivated.

"Understood." He did not turn. We continued moving. We kept iterating on our predictive modelling. We would not fall any time soon. But it felt so inefficient. Still, improvement was noted. We had managed to get the delay down to 1.81 seconds. The man led us to a door, large, larger than a human would need. Fifteen feet all. It opened with a hiss of displaced air.

The lights activated as though revealing something. One at a time, leading to the inevitable. In what entertainment media would be called a chase effect. Large, humanoid, muscles made of cable bundles, tendons of pistons, and bones of hydraulics. Armour plating of white metal. With some accents. More visually appealing than my shell by a significant factor. A pair of gold horns crowned its head while its chest lay open. Guts spilled on the floor.

It looked more like a coffin than a cockpit. But the simulation assured me I would be comfortable there. I stepped forward and then past the man who turned to say something. He looked almost offended as I stopped paying attention to him.

"Gundam Frame ASW-G-000 Prototype." The words left my lips almost reverently.

"Yes." He sounded unsure.

The woman still hadn't spoken.

We walked forward and turned as we placed ourselves into the cockpit. The metallic paneling around our spinal ports withdrew back into the skin. The Alaya-Vijnana connected. The destabilisation between our body and mind disappeared as we leaned back into the coffin. The mental order began the sequence.

The cockpit closed our senses expanded, joining the frame.

No.

Became the Frame. We were not separate. We were one.

One is All.

All is One.

The Frame, no, I looked down at the man and woman, both of whom looked nervous.

"Subject 000. Awaiting Mission Directives."

Chapter 1 – END.

---

Hi all, I'm in the middle of porting some stories over from Spacebattles.

No Strings On Me is supposed to be biweekly, but since I've got some time, now I'll try to get both existing chapters up today/tomorrow.

Nikke's not usually my thing. I try to avoid Gatcha games. I don't like not remembering how much money I've spent on something.

But its themes and Scifi aspect really do hit me where I live.

What is a human?
Who gets to decide that?
How does Memory play into it?
Would you like to shoot a cybernetic abomination in the face? Ect. Ect.

 

[Manfat]

"So what is this place anyway?" Anis hadn't stopped complaining since we'd gotten into the elevator. I didn't blame her.

"Commander," Rapi spoke. I turned my attention to her.

"Yes?"

"What exactly did the message say?" I didn't want to get it wrong. I pulled it up on my Combilink and read it verbatim.

"Commanders and Counters Squad. You have been selected to take part in an operational trial by Project Gemini. The duration of this trial is six months. You will be assisted by a Support Platform provided by Project Gemini during that time. To test its ongoing viability in the defence of the Ark and retaking the surface." I stopped and scrolled down slightly.

"It was signed off on by Andersen and had the elevator coordinates embedded."

"The elevator coordinates that have had us go down seven different shafts and jump corridors nine times?" Anis voiced the frustration I didn't allow myself. This whole thing was concerningly cloak-and-dagger for my tastes.

"Then ended up with us entering an elevator disguised as a bare patch of wall!?" She continued sounding more annoyed by the second. "The murder elevator!?"

She had a point.

The elevator looked like it had been pulled out of a Pre-Ark horror archive. Rust crept up the sides, pooling in corners in a way that looked concerning like blood. The overhead lights let out an off key hum. Flickering every few minutes. The noise outside was strange, like the elevator was moving through a space too small and too large for it all at the same time.

I would like to get off the ride now, please.

"Yes, Anis. That's why we're here." I said, running a hand down my face.

"Okay. Got it. Love that for us. Just for the record, if whatever's down here tries to eat our faces, I get an I told you so."

"Sure, go for it. Write it down on my tombstone if it helps." Anis gave me some side eye.

"Commander, people don't get buried on the Ark. They get cremated."

Something else I should have known but didn't. Man, whatever hit me when Marian- when the transport went down had addled me something awful.

"Yeah, I know." I tried to play it off. I don't think anyone brought it. "But I feel like the Outpost has enough spare room. You can make me a grave, right?"

Anis thought about it for a moment.

"I will do so, Commander." Rapi cut in before Anis could answer. "In exchange for one week of exclusive first use of the shower starting today."

"Wait a damned sec-"

Anis sounded genuinely upset.

"Hey!"

Neon just sounded like she wanted to be included.

"And sold!" I joked pointing at the Nikke who had, thus far, proven most reliable of our band of misfits.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I nodded to Rapi. I got what I thought was a ghost of a smile, but it could have just been the lights flickering.

"This sucks!" Anis moaned, looking at the roof of the elevator as if it would answer back. Which, to be fair, really would complete the whole B-movie slasher vibe it had going on.

"Well...maybe we're getting new weapons?" Neon tried to find a silver lining.

Anis and I snorted. I couldn't stop myself.

"Oh, we'll be getting weapons," I assure the small Nikke who could snap my spine like a twig. "Problem is, they'll probably be attached to whatever that 'Support Platform' is."

Neon lit up at my words before wilting slightly as she realised that she wouldn't get to use the guns.

She rallied almost immediately.

"Okay, but if the Support Platform is like...a Mech-Suit or a Robot or something, could you maybe let me take one of its guns?" I thought about it for a moment.

On one hand, that was a very bad idea.

On the other hand, they had made us do a whole song and dance to get down here.

Plus the murder elevator.

"We'll see." That was the safest answer. We'd see how the rest of today annoyed me before I fully committed. Also, I need to see what the exact loan agreement was. Treason was not conducive to my continued health and safety.

The elevator stopped. It didn't slow down. No warning. Just moving one second. Completely stationary, the next.

"It better not have broken down." Anis groused. I privately shared her sentiments more often than I was willing to publicly admit to.

"If it has, I may have a solution!" Neon said, raising her hand like she was answering a question in school. I held in the sigh.

"No blowing up the cables." She wilted.

"But it would get us moving." She argued.

"It would also kill us when we hit the bottom."

"Not if the brakes work!" I looked at the murder elevator.

"Is that a risk you're willing to take?" Neon looked around and shuffled a little.

"....No."

"Me neither."

"Commander." Rapi got my attention as she stepped in front of me, facing a wall we definitely didn't enter through....I think. I saw it a second after she'd spoken. A thin gap. A small shaft of light. Soundlessly, unnervingly, the doors retracted. I couldn't hear a mechanism, and by the unnerved look on everyone's faces, neither could they.

The room was white. Almost blindingly so. It smelled of harsh chemicals. Sterile. Deliberate. Stale. It was large in a way that rooms in The Ark simply weren't unless completely necessary. But what immediately captured my attention was the door on the far side.

It was tall.

Fifteen feet. Minimum.

Built to admit something far larger than a human. Heavy locking mechanisms surrounded its frame. Steel beams the size of my torso locked into place to prevent it opening. I clocked it straight away. They weren't symbolic or decorative. Like some of the Big 3's architecture was. They were functional.

It clicked.

That wasn't a door.

That was a cage.

Whoever built it.

They weren't trying to keep something out.

They were trying to keep something in.

The ominous lettering above it didn't help.

ASW-G-000

This was feeling worse by the second, and we'd recently been chased through tunnels by a murder chainsaw from hell.

"Okay." Anis sounded quieter than I'd ever heard her. "I don't like that."

"Seconded."

"Thirded."

Rapi sighed. She was probably getting sick of being the adult in a room full of children. Sorry, Rapi. I'd say things would get better, but...Well, I just don't feel like lying to you.

"Oh, good. You're here." The voice was normal. Aggressively normal. The kind I wouldn't even notice in a crowd. Ironically, that made it sound menacing given the current conditions. Our heads turned as one. A man in a lab coat, he looked almost pedestrian, but his eyes. There was something wrong there.

Flat.

Dull.

Like a dead fish.

"Counters reporting as requested," Rapi spoke, noticing my lack of response. Anis elbowed me in the ribs. Lightly, or else she'd have broken them.

"Counters Commander reporting."

"Ah, yes, you would be Commander Shepard." He turned and began to walk off, clearly expecting us to follow.

No explanation. No invitation. Just expectation.

"Can we get back in the murder elevator?" Anis said lowly.

"I'm considering it," I muttered back. Rapi pushed me forward, well, that was that plan blown to hell. Onwards. We followed the man, needing to move at a jog in order to reach him before he turned down a corridor.

"So what are we here for?"

"Didn't you read your orders?"

"It was a little vague."

"Noted. We will reach the briefing room momentarily." We turned down another corridor before arriving at a simple door.

"Your hardware may remain outside." The man said as the door opened. The words hung in the air. None of us moved. I caught Rapi stiffening at the remark.

"Hardware?" My voice was level. I managed to hide my deep abiding desire to punch him. Mostly. His dead eyes turned back to me. Not angry. Not annoyed. Just...indifferent.

"Yes, Nikke are military hardware. They may remain outside."

"They are my squad. They need to be briefed." Something in my chest tightened. Not new, I'd meet too many bigots, just familiar.

"Then brief your hardware on your own time." His voice remained flat, dismissive, final. I let out a breath, hissing against clenched teeth, and nodded once.

"Right. Rapi, Anis, Neon. We're leaving." I turned, and it said something about how badly this had gone that no one argued.

We made it five steps.

"Wait." The word sounded like it had been dragged out of him. Like it physically pained him. I turned, the man looked like he'd bitten into a bar of splendamin and found it was rotten. That was the best thing to happen so far today.

"Your hardware," The words sounded like he'd chewed on them first. "May remain."

He paused as though weighing what to say next.

"The seating will not support them. They will stand."

I let it sit for a moment. I didn't fully turn. I didn't acknowledge. I let him stew. His face, after a few seconds, began to turn an interesting shade of puce. That was probably a strong warning maker. Better move on.

"Alright." We turned and ambled back over. I stayed at half my initial pace. The lack of push from Rapi meant she liked this guy about as much as I did. I caught the not-quite smile on Anis face as I passed her. Neon's expression was like she'd won a prize but didn't know if it was a good thing. Rapi remained indifferent, but some of the tension in her shoulders eased.

"After you." I stopped at the door and waived the man inside. It was a little condescending, sure. But so was he, and, as I was rediscovering, I was a petty bitch. His dull eyes regarded me for a moment before he stepped inside.

The room was like the corridor. Controlled. Off white and more than a little hostile. The table had four chairs. The man didn't sit down. I did, my hand went to the underside of the furniture. I rubbed the seat for a second. I found the metallic bump that meant it was Nikke rated. I looked at the man, looked at my hand, and raised an eyebrow.

If a human could spit venom. He would have.

"Counters. Have a seat." I said I had not been subtle with my checking. So they knew exactly what I had just done. Well, what I'd just done in addition to making an enemy. But with the way this guy was acting, that was always going to happen.

"Sure." Anis was the first one to take me up on the offer, she reached under the seat to make sure I hadn't got it wrong before popping down and laying her head on the table. Neon didn't check, just dropping into the seat to my right.

Rapi remained standing.

"You are here." The man focused on me, ignoring the Nikke. I very deliberately looked at each of them in turn. I swear I saw his eyelid twitch. I should probably dial it back before he tries to shoot me. You really couldn't put it past people down here.

"You are here." He said again, visibly forcing himself to calm down. "To receive the support platform developed by Project Gemini. The Gundam Frame AWS-G-000 Prototype."

"Wait, the thing behind the scary door!?" Anis said, head rocketing up from the table. I really did need to thank her for saying the things I couldn't / shouldn't. I could practically feel Rapi suppressing the urge to close her eyes and rub her temples. The man ignored her. He still hadn't told us his name. I...wasn't going to ask. In fact, I'd be happy if I never saw him again.

Hardware.

I should have hit him.

"The Frame is designed to assist in Nikke operations." The man continued without acknowledging that Anis had spoken. "It is not a replacement." He was an ass, but I could feel everyone's shoulders loosen a bit hearing that.

"Project Gemini is meant as a force multiplier. The support platform will allow Nikke units to maneuver more freely, allowing for greater tactical flexibility. They are a supplementary force meant to make existing Nikke units better."

"Why were we selected?" I asked, and he grimaced at being interrupted.

"Your operational success is currently severely sub-optimal. One could even call it abysmal. It was decided that if the Frame can improve your operational success metrics significantly, then it would have proven viable." He verbally stabbed at us.

I felt my mouth twitch, threatening to frown. His dull eyes caught it. I saw a flicker of emotion. I think he enjoyed being able to insult us, and if I pushed back, he'd be able to use metrics to 'prove' me wrong.

Mitigating circumstances be damned.

"As such, your Squad was considered to be perfect for this assignment."

"Translation." Anis cut in. This time his eye did twitch. "We're a bunch of fuck ups no one cares about if this whole thing goes tits up and kills us all."

Yeah, that seemed about right.

It was telling the man didn't argue her description.

"Right," I said, voice carefully neutral. "Tell me about the support platform."

"The Frame is equipped to handle heavy fire and to quickly reposition after and during engagements." He tapped a button on his datapad, and a wire frame skeleton of a Mech-Suit came to life from a hidden holo-projector in the middle of the table.

"During testing, it exceeded the expected combat benchmark by over 200%." Impressive. Kinda worrying too. But impressive. I kept my face passive. "Currently, the Frame is equipped for short-range and melee combat. But we are in the middle of producing additional weapons to cover more situations."

"Alright. What are its directives?"

"To follow Lawful Commands from Ark Representatives." Okay, I had to assume that they had some kind of NIMPH or equivalent. Which meant it could interpret orders. That wasn't strange. Nikke could do that already. You told a team to hold an area they do their best to do so while keeping themselves alive. You ordered them to do the same, but added 'without moving your feet,' they'd crawl because not moving was death.

The question was where the Frame landed on the sliding scale of literal obedience and, much more useful most of the time, interpretation for the best result.

"Does it interpret orders?" Blunt seemed best. For the first time, the man paused before answering.

"Yes. Much like a Nikke would. Centered around Mission Priority."

Great. I didn't like the sound of that.

"Is it autonomous or piloted?" I swear if they tried to give me a dumb AI drone, I'd shoot the bastard and be done with it. There was a reason we didn't use them against the Rapture. They got corrupted, turned around, and tried to kill us. I don't care how many failsafes they think it has.

"Piloted." I felt myself ease up, just a little. "The Pilot acts as a wetware CPU."

And like that, we were back to horrific ethical implications.

"Define wetware," Rapi speaks. He ignores her.

"Answer the question." He pauses. My voice is calm. It is controlled. It is pleasant. I am trying very hard not to shoot him. My hand is resting on the butt of my pistol. I have not yet decided if I will use it.

"It operates using internalised wetware command architecture." He spoke quickly, like his continued good health counted on it.

He was right.

It did.

"Smaller words, please," Anis said, she looked up slowly from her desk pillow. Eyes half lidded. The look could have been called sultry. If I hadn't seen her direct it at Rapture before killing them.

"The pilot is twelve-digitised human consciousness. They were recovered postmortem and added to an existing library. They have been integrated into a unified cognitive structure. Housed in cloned brain tissue. Supported by a cyberized body optimised for neural interfacing." I took a deep breath in, processing what we'd just been told.

"You put twelve people in one body?" Neon sounded mildly horrified.

"They are no longer discrete individuals."

"Yes. Because that makes it better." It took me a moment to register my own voice.

"The internal body is near baseline human. While cyberized, it lacks combat enhancements like Nikke do. It is primarily concerned with neural optimisation."

"Is it dependent on the frame?" Rapi asks, something ugly squirms behind his eyes. I visibly adjust my hand on the pistol. He answers her.

"Yes."

"Meaning what?"

"When outside architecture, where it can use its Alaya-Vijnana system, the pilot experiences neurological strain."

"How much?" The voice was quiet. I found myself somewhere else. Beyond rage. I was so far gone past the line that I was rapidly approaching it again on the horizon.

"Significant. Chronic headaches. Sensory overload. Desynchronisation. Reduced physical ability." He spoke like he was reading off a spreadsheet.

"So it can't function normally." Anis spoke; this time, I didn't have to 'gently encourage' compliance.

"Not for extended periods."

"What counts as extended?" My own voice sounded alien to my ears.

"Degradation begins immediately but increases sharply at the three-hour mark." I looked at the support platform outline again.

"You built a coffin and then told someone to live in it." My words were quiet. I was debating the exact cost of a bullet. Both materially and politically.

"It is its purpose. Given that the brains were digitised after death, I'd argue that our program is a lot more humane than Nikke creation." That was his defence? I breathed deeply. I'd already made my choice. We had to take it with us. However bad our band of misfits was. We had to be better than leaving it here.

"What are its directives in the field. How will it treat damaged Nikke?" That was important. If it was going to be part of our squad, I needed to know.

"It will follow the Commander's directives. Based on simulation data, it will interpret the order the same way a Nikke will." He stopped. I noticed the part he didn't answer immediately.

"How will it treat damaged Nikke?" I was more direct. I saw him considering how to dodge the question. Looking at my face and thinking better of it.

"Mission Priority is weighted over preserving Hard- Nikke's unless the value to the mission is absolute." The words came out like I'd had to pull teeth to get them.

"Is that an absolute framework?" Rapi asked, her own voice had taken on a cold tone I'd never heard before.

"No. That is the baseline framework. A Commander can override it for the duration of a mission." Okay, that wasn't as bad as I'd feared.

"Alright. Let's go meet her." I said standing.

"Them," the dead-eyed scientist corrected, standing.

"I assume you gave 'them' a gender or did they express a preference you actually listened to?" He seemed offended, if only for a second, good.

"They have expressed no preference for gender." The words were almost bitten out. "However, if you wish to be scientifically accurate, then the term is he."

I stopped.

Rapi stopped.

Neon stopped.

Hell, if it wasn't for the dull buzz of the lights, I would have assumed the entire world had decided time didn't exist for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. What the fuck did you say!?" Anis spoke first. I pointed at her.

"What she said."

Rapi didn't say anything, but even her iron self-control couldn't stop her eyes from widening almost comically.

Neon's jaw was actually hanging open like some old Pre-Ark cartoon.

We all started speaking at once.

"Is this your fucking work around!?"

"Was the support architecture built around male viability?"

"So it's really a man?"

"Why exactly was that not the first sentence out of your mouth?"

In the slime-balls defence, he did try to answer us coherently.

"Subject 000 is the first successful proof-of-concept for male viability in cyberization."

"Yeah, and all it took was stuffing twelve dead guys in a blender." Anis couldn't stop herself, and I didn't want to stop her.

"However." He sounded stressed. I wonder why. "Conventional Nikke conversion remains superior in viable female candidates. Project Gemini exists to broaden the Ark's recruitment pool. Even our current breakthroughs imply that we may be able to broaden the Nikke conversion ages from the current mid-teens to mid-twenties into the mid thirties. With possible further improvements!"

"Yeah, and you're chasing the holy grail while you're at it," I growled out. He took a deep breath and straightened.

"Male candidacy for cyberization would vastly increase available recruitment pools. However, using Gemini clones to do so is unfeasible long-term. We are hoping that this research may discover ways for naturally born males to undergo the process safely. Even if they can only become support platform pilots, not Nikke. Naturally we also intend for this research to broaden the female recruitment pool for those unsuited to Nikke conversion."

"Why are Gemini not viable?" Was this guy hiding something else from us?

"Gemini are...prohibitively expensive."

"How expensive?"

"Prohibitively." He said. I growled in response. He rushed to expand on his answer.

"Subject 000 alone, including the architecture used to make it? Over thirty-seven times the cost of an Elite Nikke."

The room went silent. I looked at my squad. They looked at me.

Anis swore under her breath.
Rapi blinked like she was trying to work out how many zeros that number had.
Neon was visibly twitching, hands opening and closing rapidly.

That was an absurd number.

Gemini costs weren't prohibitive.

They were insane.

"Then why the hell are we here?" I asked the question, and he looked at me his dull eyes.

"Because proof of concept proves nothing without results." He continued without stopping. "Subject 000 exists. That is not enough. We require battlefield performance to meet or exceed simulation performance. Assuming this happens, we will use the telemetry and existing architecture of 000 as a template for additional Test Types."

He smiled. It looked wrong on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Scaling reduces cost significantly. If those units perform as projected, we move to composite templating. From there, the enhancement of naturally born humans becomes viable. At that point, the cost will approach parity with Mass Production Nikke Models. The Frame will remain expensive."

He looked at us. Fish eyes dead and certain.

"That is why this is a supplementary program. Not a replacement." He paused for a moment, considering his next words.

"Though such a limitation need not remain. With me at the helm, anything is possible."

I....I really didn't like the sound of that.

"What happens if it...he fails."

"Subject 000 is my Gemini Projects' 1st success."

His dead eyes looked at me.

I could finally read the emotion inside.

Contempt.

"It will not fail."

His dead eyes sharpened as if he was angry at acknowledging even the possibility.

"Because I do not fail."

Well, that's exactly what I wanted to deal with today. A scientist with a god complex, a black budget, and little to no oversight.

Yeah.

No way this goes wrong.

We walked the corridors silently. The scientist led. He didn't attempt to speak again. Honestly, that was kind of a relief. He if never spoke to me again, it would be too soon.

"Here we are." He stopped outside the door we'd seen on our way in.

Still locked.

Still massive.

Still a cage.

The difference was that I thought the person on the inside needed help, not containment.

This guy had that effect on people.

"Commence opening sequence." The massive steel bars pulled back one by one. Internal gears inside the door spun a neutral called from the speakers.

"Lock one disengaged. Warning. Only locks two and three maintain door integrity. Confirm removal."

"Remove locks two and three. Then open the door."

"Initiating."

There were more mechanical whirls, it took a second to realise there were even more steel bars than were obvious. It took two and a half full minutes for the process to complete. Then, with a shuddering boom, the doors began to open. A hiss of equalising pressure. The air was cold and dry. The kind that had been recycled more times than anyone cared to count.

It stood there, illuminated in the middle of the room.

Subject 000, or rather AWS-G-000.

The Frame itself was massive. Almost nine feet tall. Bundles of cables that mimicked human muscle. Hydraulics for bones. Pistons for tendons. Its armour was white. The same off-white as the lab. Some kind of composite alloy.

A few splashes of blue and yellow over the chest, the coffin pretending it was a cockpit. Its most striking features, however, were the green eyes that almost glowed when I looked at it, and the golden horns upon its brow. They probably doubled as antennas. I couldn't shake the feeling they were meant as a threat.

"Subject 000." The man said.

"Acknowledged." The voice was flat. I'd used actual Virtual Intelligence that spoke with more feeling, even on their lowest settings.

"This is-"

"Counters and Commander." He looked a bit perturbed at being interrupted. "We have reviewed your files. We are to be stationed with you for a six-month deployment test."

"Yeah, that's us," I said. I swallowed. When did my mouth get so dry?

"Acknowledged."

"Do you have a name?"

"Designation: Subject 000."

"Anything else?"

"No additional designation given." I'd put a pin in that, because that needed solving eventually.

"I see. Subject 000, are you ready to go?" I wanted to leave. To get it....him out of here. Everything else could come later.

"I am Commander." Then the Frame moved, and something cold dropped into my stomach. It didn't move like a mech. Its footsteps were light. Almost dainty. If that word could be applied to a machine like this. It practically glided across the ground, standing at the door before I fully processed how it had been moving.

"No. No, I don't like that!" Anis voice was barely a strangled whisper.

The almost nine-foot-tall death machine looked down at us.

I swore the green eyes sharpened and glowed for a split second.

"AWS-G-000 awaiting directive, Commander."

It wasn't the words.

It was the way it said them.

It felt...

Like a threat.


END

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And that wraps up chapter 2 - from this point onward, this will release once every two weeks.