CHAPTER I

Animus Ex Machina

Penny opened her eyes to bright overhead lights. The final system checks were finished at last and she could get up and move around again. She looked to her right, where William Hillphire was working on a few things at his workstation. He had been quite busy as of late thanks to the enormous investment offers into the recently rebooted Hillphire Innovations. A firm that once consisted of a single man tinkering in his forge at the outskirts of Mistral had, overnight, transformed into a sprawling campus that consisted of massive factories, research and development labs, and cavernous warehouses. A small engineering school had also been erected within the company grounds.

Of course, despite this explosion over the past year, the Forge proper remained Hillphire's sole refuge, where he could have his way with all of the new gadgets, armaments, and whatever else came his way. It was also where his own personal vault was located, the maximum-security building where Penny's main service center lay.

Penny got up from her service bay, scanning her environment. Everything was functioning properly, from her optical sensors to her auditory and olfactory systems. Balancing was right on the money. The Dust reactor in her chest was in perfect working order, operating at ten percent output with maximum efficiency.

"Good morning, Liam!" she chirped, hopping to his side.

"Oh, good morning, Penny," Hillphire said, yawning. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Much better than you, it seems!"

He chuckled. "That's good."

"I can make some coffee for you if you like!"

"Sure, I guess I could use a cup."

She marched with earnest toward his coffee machine, that all-too-complicated Rube Goldberg machine with its intricate chain reactions, all just to flash brew some coffee into a mug, which served as the trigger for the machine as soon as it hit the small round plate. Penny couldn't help but smile as she watched the multitude of motions, most of them quite useless in the grand scheme of things. In spite of this, however, she could fully appreciate the art behind the design.

"Liam?" she said, bringing the hot mug to him. "Is it human to be able to appreciate art?"

Hillphire put his current project on hold, turning his head to her. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "It's something I've been thinking about. Some of the machines you've made strictly as your hobby have very inefficient means of operation, yet it seems that their function is less important than the expression behind them, which I believe is the meaning of art, correct?"

"I suppose that is. After all, art itself doesn't really serve any function, per se. As you said, the expression is the heart of an artistic display. The 'function' of an artistic piece, if one exists, could conceivably be secondary to the expression inherent to it. Although, of course, the converse could be true. Many of our products are built with aesthetic considerations in mind."

"True, but those are not necessarily art, since with art, function is secondary and expression is primary."

"I would be inclined to agree."

"Hmm. I have been meaning to ask you. Why do you like to build these complex machines with simple function?"

"The Rube Goldberg machines everywhere?"

She nodded. "I wish to understand the meaning of your expression behind the pieces. Is the expression individualized between pieces? Is it a uniform concept that manifests itself across all of your work?"

"I've never really consciously thought about why I build some of those things. I've always found machinery as a discipline fascinating. I figure that if I could build complex machines that can still function properly, I could do the same with all of the weapons and armor and other things I build and ensure that they keep their users alive and safe in battle."

"I see. I may have figured out the expression behind your inventions, then."

"What would that be?"

"I believe that the combination of unnecessarily intricate designs with the mundane operations of daily life simultaneously displays your childlike enthrallment with machines along with your unbreakable desire to serve and protect others, even if the service is as simple as producing a cup of coffee." She held out the warm mug.

He looked down at the black liquid in the ceramic mug between her hands, hands which, beneath the artificial skin, were made of cold steel and plastics. The image was a stark contrast to the content of her soul, which was almost heartbreakingly warm. She had mentioned that his fascination with machinery was childlike. Perhaps that was something the two of them shared with each other, the way that they were, in some ways, no different from children, still innocent in certain aspects.

Of course, with the war they had fought not even a year ago, they were hardly innocent anymore.

He accepted the coffee, taking a sip. Their conversation had given the liquid time to cool down considerably.

"Hmm," he mumbled. "This tastes familiar."

"I replaced the beans yesterday with a suggestion from Ruby!"

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm!" she said with a vigorous nod. "She said that Weiss figured out a really good blend between coffee beans grown on the island of Patch and some grown in Menagerie!" Her demeanor stiffened as she mimed Ruby's own imitation of Weiss's explanation. "According to Weiss, you take the beans from Patch and Menagerie and grind them together in a two-to-three ratio, respectively, and brew the blend with water that has just barely reached boiling point and filter it through very fine, unbleached paper."

Hillphire chuckled. "That was quite the Weiss impression."

"I got the lightly roasted beans, though. I performed an analysis of the chemical content and lightly roasted beans are the least bitter and preserve the natural flavor best."

"That's good to know."

"I believe the same goes with all beans. The darker the roast, the more bitter the content."

"I wouldn't know. Instant coffee is the thing for me. I leave the details to the real connoisseurs."

"Perhaps we could start our own coffee chain. With my analysis capabilities, we could come up with blends for all tastes and preferences!"

"I guess we could, but there's something you have to understand about food and drink."

"Hmm?"

"It's not all that different from the conversation we had about art just now. While food certainly does serve a very important function, namely keeping humans alive, food is also an expression of a culture."

"Ah, yes, cuisine is often integral to the local cultures. So, is food and drink a form of art?"

"In a way, sure. After all, it tends to be expression. But it's different with food since rather than being an expression of strictly the individual soul, food tends to be an expression of the soul of an entire society."

She looked down to the side, pondering the thought intensely.

"Hey, let's go rearrange the warehouse a bit. I should take a break from all this paperwork anyway."

"That's a good idea," she said. "It's important to make room for new projects, after all!"

She followed him out of the vault into the adjacent warehouse, which was stacked high with boxes. They worked for a few hours, just the two of them. This warehouse was still part of his private Forge. As such, very few workers of the company at large had access to this area, at least not without Hillphire's permission.

"I think we've done enough for the day," Hillphire panted, wiping some sweat off his forehead. He looked over at Penny, who finished stacking the heavy crates. He was certain she had done at least four times the amount of work he had managed to pull off.

"Would you like me to get you something to eat?" she asked him.

"No, that won't be necessary. I think I'm gonna take a shower real quick and maybe take a nap."

"Naps are important! You haven't slept yet, and you can use all the rest you can get!"

He chuckled before looking down at the ground for a while. He spent longer than he intended to, thinking about the war they had just fought, the friends they had lost, the sacrifices they had made. Their conversation about Weiss and her new coffee discovery brought up old memories that were pleasant, and yet these memories were bittersweet. After all, there was one man who would never get to see his young daughter grow up to be a fine woman, a man who had sacrificed his own future so that the entire world could have its own.

"Liam?" Penny said. He hadn't realized she was right up to his face. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he said, sniffling. "I'm fine. Just needed a breather before I hit the showers."

Penny watched silently as he disappeared into the vault. She looked at the ground for a moment, deciding to continue organizing the warehouse. There weren't very many crates left to move and she would be able to finish everything before he got out of the shower. There were four crates remaining when she stopped in the middle of the empty warehouse. Memory after memory flooded her mind. So many horrible things had happened during the last war, deaths that were unnecessary, tragedy that should never have been permitted.

It wasn't until Hillphire had zoned out just now that it hit her. She had powered through that conversation about Weiss and coffee this morning without realizing that if anyone had lost anything during that war, it was her. She had lost the man she loved more than anything, the father of her child, who would have to grow up without her father.

Penny fell to her knees, her vision beginning to blur. She put a finger to her eye, catching a clear liquid.

Tears? she thought, recalling a conversation long ago with Hillphire about lubricating ducts for her eyes. For a robot like her, that was about the only real reason she might need things like tears, but for people, tears served a different purpose. Was this what it meant to be human? To cry? To grieve? To lose someone you love?

"Bedivere," she mumbled as teardrops fell from her face to the ground. His was the first voice she had heard in the prison of her destroyed body. His hand was the first she had touched in that icy hell, the first sign of hope from the outside world. Had it not been for his magic and that enormous heart that beat in his chest, she would never have escaped her own darkness.

For the first time since his death, she was finally able to grieve, fully grasping what it meant to have lost him. For a long time, only Weiss and their friends could truly know the concept. After all, she was merely a machine. Although she could compute the human value of loss, it was only now that it meant anything to her.

The sensation was something too alien to process and she fell to all fours, the burden of grief weighing her down unlike any burden she had ever borne. She had seen her friends cry before, hearing the wailing and watching the tears streaming down. But Penny herself did not know how to cry. Though the tears began to form a small puddle on the concrete below, no sounds came from her mouth. All of her screaming was internal.

At least, that's what she had thought. The intense emotions had caused errors throughout her computer and she had failed to process the sounds that her ears had been picking up all this time, her own pitiful wailing, sounds of a soul who had just learned how to shed tears. As clarity began to reassert itself in her mind, she squeezed her eyes shut, finally hearing her own screaming. She began pounding on the concrete, breaking more and more pieces of the floor with each strike.

If only she had been stronger. If she had been more mature, faster, better, anything, maybe she could have done something to save his life.

No, that wasn't true. There were some things in the world that were beyond anyone's reach. Perhaps it was fate that he had given up his future for the world, for the woman he loved, for everyone he loved.

This idea didn't sit well with her. She wanted to be able to do something about it all, to fight against the grief and despair, to save everyone from the hell that she had experienced in her own body, trapped within, unable to communicate with the outside world. That loneliness and anguish was something she could never wish upon even her worst enemies.

"Weiss," she mumbled as her crying began to die down. She closed her eyes, connecting to the internet to browse photos. Between the Schnee siblings, only Whitley maintained a social media site. There were photos of him with Winter and Weiss, who held an infant in her arms. The smile on her face was genuine, and yet it would always be hollow.

"Lilly Schnee," Penny said aloud, reading through the texts on Whitley's social media page. "I swear I will never let anything happen to you."

She disconnected from the internet, standing up. She dried her tears before heading to the vault. Hillphire had just finished with his shower and he was at his computer station already. Penny steeled herself before heading over to him, but the emotions were still storming inside of her. Keeping them under control was the toughest battle she had ever fought.

"You should be resting!" she said as cheerily as she could. She realized too late that she shouldn't have said something like that in such a cheery fashion. Stern would have made more sense.

"I just had to finish this bit," Hillphire said with a yawn.

Stern, she commanded herself. "How will the company thrive if its founder is too tired to work, hmm?"

He turned to her. "What's with the mood whiplash?"

"M-Mood whiplash?"

"Yeah. You sounded cheery when you walked in, and now you're all mad."

She stared at him for a bit. It was impossible to control the emotions now. Her mind had extrapolated everything she had thought about in her earlier solitude and projected it to him. The sudden thought of losing him was almost crushing and she found herself lunging at him, embracing him tightly.

"Penny?" Hillphire said. The uneasiness from his companion was clear as day. He couldn't remember the last time she was so conflicted.

"I don't wanna lose you," she said quietly.

"Hey, what's going on?"

She tightened her hold on him. "I don't wanna lose you," she repeated. "I don't ever wanna lose you."

He sighed heavily, returning her embrace. "You won't. Nothing like that's ever gonna happen."

But he was wrong. After all, Penny was a machine. She had no definite lifespan. He, on the other hand, was human. This thought would send Penny into another fit of hysterical crying and Hillphire had to help her back to her service bay to run more tests while she slept. Everything was working properly according to his observations. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Her behavior could only conceivably be attributed to purely human characteristics.

It must've been our conversation about Weiss, he mused. I guess her time alone got her thinking about her and then...him.

"L...Liam?" Penny mumbled as she re-awakened.

"Penny, are you feeling better?"

"How can I become more human?"

"What do you mean?"

"How can I stop being a machine?"

He knew these questions would come up sooner or later, but there was no way he could ever ready himself for them.

"I want to be more like Ruby. And Weiss. And everybody. I wanna be able to feel pain, to feel hot and cold, to smell things the way you smell things. To taste food, to eat, to get tired and hungry."

"Penny, slow down."

"Liam, is it possible? Can I ever become human? Or am I stuck being a machine for the rest of my existence?"

He didn't have an answer for her. After all, the proposition was unheard of. It was a simple matter to replace human body parts with fully functioning prosthetics, but to go the other way around was almost inconceivable.

"It's not possible, is it?" Penny said, her eyes clouding with tears once again. "Liam? Why do I make tears?"

"I just...I thought maybe you'd make use of them someday."

"Am I using them correctly?"

He nodded, his own eyes welling up.

"I'm glad."

He turned to her. She had closed her eyes again. He couldn't tell if she was sleeping again, but her cheeks were still wet with her tears. A small smile found its way to his face. She had asked him if she could ever become human. As far as he was concerned, there was no question about it. She already was human.

It was at that moment that he became determined to use science to come up with some way to build a new body for her, one that would allow her to do all of those things she had asked for, to feel pain, to touch hot and cold, to taste foods, to smell flowers, to feel the sunlight on her skin.

He darted straight to his workstation and began his life's mission. No matter what it took, he had firmly decided to discover some way to transfer her mind into a fully human body, even if that process was incremental.