Organic.

The simple descriptor shot through the weeks of deep fog clouding 9S' mind and burned them away like a comet burning away clouds. The weight of every character of the knowledge he had gained since the destruction of YoRHa simultaneously lifted from his shoulders and crushed him anew in breath-stealing waves. His legs unceremoniously gave way and dropped him to the concrete. Through the tightness in his chest, he released a single, wavering whisper.

"He's... a human...?"

"ANALYSIS: LIKELIHOOD OF HUMAN SURVIVAL THROUGH ALL PREVIOUS MACHINE WARS AND FAILURE OF GESTALT PROJECT: 0%"

"Right...It's impossible."

"NEGATIVE. SUBJECT COMPOSITION 100% MATCH TO HUMAN RECORDS."

Another wave of giddiness and devastating pressure clashed inside 9S. He could have screamed at the pods for jerking him around like that, but only managed an animal cackle as his thoughts grew muddy and difficult to parse. They were right. It was impossible, but also undeniable: A human had appeared.

The red girls themselves could not have come up with a crueler truth to rub in his face. Why now? Why only after he had been through the Tower? Why only after YoRHa was destroyed?

9S might have drowned in the possibilities of how differently it all could have gone, if not for his lingering irritation at V's careless smile. It grew until it was a white-hot star inside of his body that threatened to melt him from within. How could V stand there like nothing he had seen had anything to do with him? It had everything to do with him. He was all there was; he was the single reason for everything that had happened in the last 10,000 years, but he didn't know or care. He didn't have the slightest idea.

If 9S hadn't thrown away his weapons, he would gladly have run himself through.

V was there, and no matter how much 9S might hate him, he longed for him in equal measure. Only after he had no one left did the thing that could have prevented it all appear. Lucky him, it was also one thing that could make him want to go on. He hated it-himself, the programming that made him this way-with far greater intensity than he could have ever managed for V. It was easier to.

The machine network had come to crave humanity. It imitated them, even in their failures, over and over again, just to be closer to them. The androids were built in humanity's image, ready to care for them and, failing that, prepared to die in their name. They craved humanity too. So much that they had created YoRHa androids and purposefully designed them to die rather than communally cope with humanity's extinction.

By only existing, V undid the lie. By only existing, V gave meaning to everything, even though it was designed to be pointless. By only existing, V gave 9S perfect insight as to why his creators made YoRHa.

Not that he wouldn't still kill every single one of them if given half a chance.

The tightness in his chest cleared, and he assessed himself with fresh perspective. Neglect had left him damaged and filthy. His systems were in a disgraceful state of disrepair. Popola and Devola had probably not survived, but he had the clarity for internal maintenance and the resistance to help him with the external. He needed to get as close to optimal function as he could.

"I..." he muttered out breathlessly. "I have to go."

The sharp metallic clink of the cane struck down beside 9S' good hand. He had no idea when V had closed in, but he stood over 9S with an almost exasperated expression. "That would be unwise."

9S' head felt hot, his body too small, as though he were going to burst out of it. What he initially mistook for cheap design was just a bent back, stubble, and the shadows of a sternum on an underweight body. A human, a real human he could have reached out and touched. He covered his mouth to hold in either a laugh or a scream or a sob, and could not guess which.

"ALERT: MULTIPLE MALFUNCTIONS IN PROCESSING DETECTED. WARNING: SUBJECT V MAY SUSTAIN DAMAGE DUE TO INTERNAL COMBUSTION AT THIS PROXIMITY."

V's eyebrows raised and he took a cautious hop-step back. "Is he about to self-destruct?"

"No!" 9S blurted, his voice hitching and distorting. "Nobody's destructing or combusting! But there's noise in my—I'm unstable and I don't want to—" He gritted his teeth. "I want to help you. But I need maintenance. I need to go."

"If that's true, you'll be glad to give me a parting gift. Information, as I asked."

"Pod 153, initiate full data transfer."

"NEGATIVE. TARGET IS AN ORGANIC-"

9S ground his fist into his forehead and groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I got it! Pod 042, I order you to remain with V and provide him any and all information he requires."

"AFFIRMATIVE."

V's eyes moved from Pod 042, now drifting peaceably just outside of arm's reach, to 9S, to Pod 153. 9S took it as a small victory that he was no longer smiling as he planted his cane and shrugged toward the edge of the rooftop.

"Little lamb," V called after him as he stumbled away. "Should another find their way here, expect to find them in pieces."

9S looked back from the ledge, panting as he struggled to keep himself under control. Other androids hadn't crossed his mind. Should he tell someone? Should he tell anyone? He turned away to hide his eyes as a flicker of jealousy coursed through him.

"I think that's a good idea."

Hopefully he could get a replacement visor somewhere. It might finally be time to take that tired rule about emotions a little more seriously.