The ship is full of deviants, bodies everywhere independent from their program and in desperate need for help. This is what Jericho is for. She remembers the day Markus arrived. Like any other android who finds their way to their safe haven, she'd read his soul, found both loss and recovery, a strength so few had, yet one they needed so much. And thus far, Lucy's sight hasn't failed; Markus has been a shining example of what they should strive for, bold, strong, determined.
It's no wonder all these deviants are here, in search of help. Construction workers, house maids, child caretakers, even a small YK500 - calls herself Alice - has gathered for once thing: independence. The news rolls on a large screen above the rail while others monitor the ships systems, loaded weaponry, and activities outside the walls close to bay. The chatter about on the bottom floor and near the metal crosswalks carry mixed opinions: fight or flight.
No one knows what the next step is, but whatever Markus has planned, it's bound to make some impact. While she roams the floor, their deviant leader sits upstairs, mind droning on what's past and what should come. Until then, it's up to her to console those who need it most, answering their deepest questions.
There is one that stands out the most, though. At first sight, he would appear like any one of them, dressed against android code as humans see it: Tall and slender, blue jeans and sturdy boots, a heavy coat with a hood attached, and lastly a beanie to cover the round, lit proof that he's made of plastic and wire. But the way his dark brown eyes roam the surroundings tell more, so she looks further into it, connecting to the fiber of his being for a better glance.
With closed eyes, her thought dwells on him, finding his presence in the world outside of sight and touch, his soul... It's nothing like theirs though, not quite like anyone else's in the room, and yet it almost feels just alike. He's lost… only on a different level.
...he hasn't ascended past his program yet.
And yet he's found his way here. It was meant to be, she knows it, feels it in her heart.
What she doesn't expect are the images that follow in a flash: Dead bodies, both android and human, scattered about the floor in marbled red and blue. Nothing like the dump that Markus past revealed, but everything like it in a similar sense of hell. The bright light of flash grenades blind her black eyes before she knows all the where and what of it all. Deafening gun shots fire, popping ash into the air as armored humans sprint down the ship halls. Beloved halls, doors, and walkways sheltering thousands of deviants, all destroyed to pieces and spread in crumbles about the floor. It's a confined war held tight in the abandoned ships' walls.
This new member's presence is a death card, and Jericho's just been dealt. It'd be nice to divert the sign away, but fate, of all things, is sometimes stronger than the will.
The darkness disappears though, and brightness breaks in stronger than it ever has since their desire for freedom, and while she can't see it, she can feel it: Hope. Success. Strength. Happiness. It's hard to tell how, or when, or why, when the light of life is so blinding, blocking her vision. Still it doesn't deny that there's change in the air, a mix of both dark and light in one single outcome. The card of death, the light of hope, and a future that won't quite reveal, no matter how hard her heart digs and yearns to know.
The vision escapes Lucy's mind, bringing her back to reality. Their card of death is approaching the stairway with intention plastered all over every there. Perhaps if she could connect with him…
Cutting across a small crowd, she lands in his pathway just as he gets ready to take the first step up. They come to a stop in front of each other, still in the knowledge this conversation is meant to be. "You're lost," the prophet declares. They exchange a gaze, curiosity brimming upon his baffled expression as she returns a notion certainty and renewed confidence, despite what's about to fall on them.
"You're looking for yourself," Lucy continues in realization that her message hasn't gone unheard. Afterall, does he not deserve his own freedom too? A dealer of bad news or not, this potential deviant holds a reserved right to life just as much as anyone else here and it's not anyone's right to deny it. Perhaps that's where his strength will shine through. Suffer in loss, they may, but in exchange a great asset.
He will be there downfall. But he will also be their hope.
