Of Spare Parts (and their echoes)

by Faulty Paragon

2B and 9S, on a journey to find meaning in a world which no longer holds purpose, told in alphabetized snapshots. Post-game, spoiler heavy.

3. Chapter 3

Of Spare Parts (and their echoes)

[c]eiling

The grey concrete is chipped, worn through– plaster long since broken down, the holes take up more space than what still stands. 9S lies on his back, examining their makeshift shelter to fill boredom.

By his side, 2B also examines something riddled with cracks.

Crumbling synthetic skin, missing entirely in certain patches, exposing wiring and framework. Patchwork clothes, haphazardly worn, just as ripped and ragged as the wearer himself. She reaches down, gently pushing dirty silver hair out of purple eyes.

9S raises a brow. "What is it?"

She smiles, shaking her head. "Nothing." Her voice is warm, touch lingering on a cheek riddled with holes, but so full of life.