"NO NEW MESSAGES."

Same as the last three times he'd tried it today.

9S dropped into a low squat beside the cold black block of the teleporter and lowered his head against his knees. Wet footsteps slapped and sloshed through the half-melted snow and mapped across his aural sensors like the busy march of ants. Their crisp voices seemed to echo in place in the heavy air, but his mind was too crowded to process what any of them were saying.

Where are you, V?

The steam of his quickened breaths clouded his vision. Cutting his UI off for a while had proved fortuitous, but what little rest it earned him already felt like a faded dream.

If Rho really had seen some evidence of Humility before her death, it wasn't there anymore. Gamma's investigation team had just about dismantled the roller coaster platform and turned up nothing. Speaking to the park machines had been just as ineffectual. Turned out they weren't particularly good at telling one android from the other without significantly different details, so they were only able to account for three: two who wore black, and had black and white hair, and one with red hair. The first was clearly 9S himself. The second had to be V. Through his dimmed functions, 9S had failed to reach an appropriately guarded state when that information reached him. He'd failed to do much of anything other than sit and let Iota repair the damage he'd done to his fingers with Virtuous Contract.

Gamma took one look at him and made the shrewd and ruthlessly efficient decision to pass him by and talk directly to 4S. It proved to be a stroke of fortune so incredible 9S still didn't quite believe it had happened to him.

Compared to traveling through the forest and out through the city, cutting through Pascal's village and the amusement park offered a shorter, safer, and minimally unstable path to transport a 130kg body. That was the path Pine and Jackass had taken 11S, so it was the one 4S had followed. Clear motivation, excellent reason to be evasive of machines and androids alike on the way, and most importantly: black hair and black clothes. 9S couldn't have made up a story that perfect if he tried.

Even the matter of the android with red hair was muddled by Aconite's on-going absence. Most likely she was stalking around, hunting for Lobelia's killer on her own, and while her hair was short it was a shade of red a machine wouldn't mistake even at a distance.

With so many confounding variables in play, Theta turned to Jackass for a technological answer to the problem.

9S didn't know what she'd been expecting. Whatever the Army was used to with Rho, Jackass wasn't like that. All attempts to get her to do anything that didn't involve completing her review of the Commander's data were met with a resounding 'Fuck Off'. Then, around fourteen hours ago, she had erupted with the intensity of one of her bombs, abusively commandeered a truck, and peeled out of the camp. Nobody'd heard from her since.

The Commander's data was filled with log after log of personal communications. The cause YoRHa was built on was important to her. Maybe even noble in her eyes. But over time, her regrets and the weight of her knowledge grew heavier. In private, she was just as unable to prohibit her emotions as the rest of them. Almost all of her letters had been blocked by the automatic censors.

Almost all of them had been addressed to Jackass.

The camp had grown still after that. Held its breath for the next action, the next command; any sign that the trail was not too broad or too cold. That there was still concrete action that could be taken.

The SOS granted their wish.

Fully uniformed YoRHa at the desert outpost. Gray hair, severe surface damage, possibly infected. All details 9S could have taken at face value, but then the injured were brought into camp. He recognized the puncture wounds that had barely left their limbs attached, as well as their incoherent screams about an unknown weapon they could only describe as something that looked like tar but moved like metal filings around a magnet. They thought it was a YoRHa weapon. An incorrect hypothesis that left 9S in the precarious position of being badgered for answers he couldn't give while growing steadily more overwhelmed.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to V. It didn't matter that V had told him they needed to be apart or that 9S was trying to keep him from being discovered. His base protocols screamed at him that he should never have left him in the care of such a shady android. None of this would have happened if—

White boots clicked down at the top edge of his visual field. "Expecting a message, Unit 9S?"

He sighed without bothering to look up. He'd become very familiar with the sound of Theta's voice. "I wish. If Jackass told me she was waiting at the alloy site right now, I'd run there."

"It'd be wise. But I suspect after reading your Commander's memoirs, she will remain truant until she cools down." She paused, and her weight shifted. "Not carrying 2B's sword today?"

His fingers curled into painful fists. He was 'Unit 9S' always, but 2B's name had become a casual utterance to Theta and it drove him a little crazier every time. "Repair officer's orders."

"How diligent of you. Unless you'd like to continue squatting, can I make you a peace offering?"

That got him to raise his head. "Huh?!"

Her lips curved into a subtle smirk. "Well, I say peace offering, but it hardly matters if you accept it or not. Consider it more a show of intent. Come with me."

9S planted his hands on his knees and stood up. There were dozens of things he wanted to be doing, from finding 2B's data to directly contacting Pod 042 and V; purging whatever trash he'd assimilated through hacking to repairing 11S. Spending time with Theta was not on the list, but given a lack of other options (and admittedly a bit of curiosity), he obeyed.

The resistance members gave him an unusually wide berth as they crossed through the camp's center and into the dim tunnels of scaffolding.

"Paranoia is a useful survival tool," Theta said coolly from ahead of him. "But it's also thoughtless and irrational. You didn't provide a satisfactory explanation, so you'll find the camp remains suspicious of you."

"A lot of them were already suspicious of me." His eyes lowered. "Nothing's different."

"That's factually incorrect. On top of two dead androids, there are now four grievously injured and an unknown weapon or enemy in play. And the only thing they have in common is a recurring YoRHa presence."

"Pod already confirmed we never had that kind of technology. That's—"

"The truth. I'm aware." Her arms crossed, index finger tapping deliberately at her skin. "I'm growing concerned about your unexpectedly persistent attachment to the concept."

He stopped in his tracks, and his voice lowered to a wary rumble. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Theta spun and gripped the scaffolding on either side of his head, trapping him in place. Under the pressure of her hollow stare, he could only squirm against the frigid poles at his back and neck as she closed in. Her words reached his face as steam and his ears as the rustle of a snake among dry leaves.

"It means you should have lied."

His black box raced so quickly the pulse was nearly continuous. Scanner or not, he was combat-ready, and he'd never had anyone who wasn't an enemy be so aggressive with him. He was designed to attack in this situation. He wanted to attack. But he couldn't afford to direct lethal force at her now of all times. As a fail-safe, he began to log data. Any data he could, which was mostly the details of her face. The subtle shine of the camera lens beneath her pupils. Gold eyes—the one thing that wasn't the same as the woman who appeared in Beepy's memory. Same silver hair. Same oddly cut bangs on the left side of her face, though she wore a tight, efficient bun instead of braids. She didn't have her predecessor's intense scowl, or foul mouth, or questionable fashion sense, but they were nearly the same.

As alike, and as different, as A2 and 2B.

Keeping his hands carefully at his sides, he raised his chin to match her stare. "There's no point in lying. The truth always comes to light."

"I'm not saying it doesn't. I'm saying you should be smart enough to make other arrangements in the meantime."

All his thoughts of V flashed through him and he instinctively snapped his forehead forward against hers. Pops of light and chromatic aberration dazzled his visual field. They both sagged with their heads in their hands, but it was better by far than letting her see anything vulnerable or exploitable in his expression.

Gamma stalked between them; hands curled into tight, prepared fists. "Is there a problem, Commander Theta?"

Theta regained herself, blinked twice, and tugged her clothes back into place with a vexed sigh. "None. Thank you, Gamma. I was just showing 9S to the private area where we'll be keeping the scanners."

He curled his lip at the expression. She made it sound like they were books or spare parts she could store for when she needed them. It turned out to be the exact opposite. They had taken the liberty of moving 4S and 11S. The scaffolding had been re-arranged and extended with a few cinderblocks and wooden planks to provide them a sequestered area. Iota was busily checking on all of 11S' connectors, and 4S was scrolling away at a readout, totally unbothered.

"What…is this?"

"Arrangements," Theta said tartly.

"Until such time as the unknown weapon is conclusively identified," Gamma explained. "Units 4S and 11S will be kept to a private repair area. Unit 9S, you are free to come and go, but you should be mindful that you are the only fully operational scanner, and you have a reputation."

"If Jackass bothers to turn up, you should take the opportunity to make yourself scarce. I'd even been willing to let you consult with Emil if you chose—supervised, of course." Theta's smile still didn't reach her eyes, but the unsettling effect was cut in half by the way her fingers unconsciously touched at her forehead. Served her right. "I hope you'll think about what I told you, Unit 9S."

As they departed, he thought he heard Gamma chiding the commander, but he missed exactly what for.

He sat on a cot and prodded gently at his stinging forehead. Theta's advice was unwanted but not incorrect—why she had given it and why she had taken the initiative to protect them…well, she was a commander. Whatever else she had planned, it was her primary job to keep whatever hive she was part of running in an orderly fashion. Chaos was her enemy, and 9S could understand that much. There was plenty of room for all of them in the main repair area. There should have been no need to move, but two YoRHa sharing a space with severely damaged androids who believed they had been attacked with an unknown YoRHa weapon would create a powder keg.

The resistance was tiptoeing around on glass to preserve the peace, and if it broke for any reason, it was 4S and 11S who would take the fall. If he wanted to keep V and the other scanners safe, he had to keep a cool head. This wasn't the time to be fighting with Theta or spinning his wheels.

Across from him, Iota made a satisfied cooing sound as she finished a scan of 11S. "No new irregularities, see? A nice and easy relocation." She took hold of his hand and gently smoothed his overgrown hair. "Both your friends are here. They are looking forward to you waking up."

9S watched her repeat various iterations of this for a few moments before he leaned over and nudged 4S. "What is she doing…?"

4S looked up with his lip caught between his gnawing teeth. "Hunh? Oh, she's providing positive external stimuli."

"Okay... Why?"

"Some human practice that correlated empathy with better recovery? I think she called it 'bedside manner.'" He tilted his head and turned back to his read-out. "It's a little weird seeing a repair officer do it, but I talked to him a lot too when I was modding him. Can't hurt right?"

What 9S remembered of repair were a bunch of androids in the maintenance and development area that ranged from temperamental to openly belligerent. There was even a scanner among them, granted he was weird. Almost a hybrid unit. He handled maintenance-related inventory and complex repairs, but he also had access to expanded memory capacity. That was usually reserved for Healer units.

9S had been in his care when his body was returned to the Bunker full of holes after 2B killed Adam, and had been scolded pretty much the entire time. "I can't imagine 801S doing that."

4S went very still on the cot next to him.

Under his coat, 9S' skin prickled and he rubbed self-consciously at his arms. If 9S had to guess what 4S treasured, he would pin it on his friends every time. "Sorry... I shouldn't have brought him up."

The clouds shifted. A ray of light broke through and bathed them in a moment of stark white and hard-edged shadows. It passed in seconds and left both of them still in its wake for several minutes. When the words came, they weren't blurted. A deep breath preceded them, and they came out like threads being carefully untangled from a bramble patch.

"When the wide-area virus appeared, we…" His chest squeezed and his fingers with them, but 2B's sword was not there. 9S wasn't sure why he wanted to pursue this topic now of all times. Maybe it was because it had already happened and that made it simple. It wasn't a secret he had to keep or a worry he had to nurse. Maybe he just couldn't help it. Who else could he say any of this to and not need to explain a word of it, or why it was important? "We tried to contact command and let someone know what was happening. It was already too late. Communications were jammed from the other side. I managed to upload us to the server, and we used a black box reaction to trigger a Bunker-side reinitialization."

"That means… You were actually there?"

9S nodded. "Nothing was obviously wrong when we arrived but that didn't last. We watched all the operators turn. All the combat units that stayed on for security reasons. We tried to get the Commander out. 2B and I fought through waves of infected units. They were still talking. Even if it was only a little, they were still aware. Still themselves. We made it all the way to the elevator, and down to the hangar, but by the time we got there, the Commander…" He clenched his eyes shut and drew his legs up onto the cot, close to his chest. "She ordered us to leave without her. It was fast. Maybe twenty minutes."

4S was quiet for a long stretch. When he finally did respond, it was with a shudder and a slow, steady breath and the tiniest 'wow' he'd ever heard.

"11S was the last scanner I spoke to," 9S went on quietly, flicking his eyes to the other cot. "Until I found you in the castle. He was nagging me to sync to the server so you could all run updates."

"…You always were airheaded." 4S tilted his head down into 9S' periphery and offered a fragile smile. "But it probably saved our lives. If we had been fully updated, we probably would have been taken over at the same time as all the combat units. We might not be the only scanners who made it."

"Maybe." 9S hesitated, but he needn't have. Going back into the network copy was inevitable, but he would be in there forever if he just wandered around hoping to find people. "If you can help, there might be a way to know for sure. The Commander wasn't the only one I found in the network."

4S lowered his read-out and gave him his complete attention. 9S told him everything that had happened inside the Ark. Even the parts about N2, A2, and 2B's data. Behind the visor, 4S face remained still, but his fingers began to drum rapidly against his knees.

His head jerked toward Iota. "That was okay? With her here, I mean?"

"That's all personal," Iota said matter-of-factly. "Commander Theta already knows you're looking for data in there."

"It's more than data though!" 4S chewed at his lip, and scratched at his clean, but still thoroughly overgrown hair. "YoRHa data, the structure of it is—It can be moved anywhere. If we have bodies there's no reason we can't—"

"Stop," 9S pleaded in a thick, rasping voice. "Please."

"What? What's wrong? Why?"

9S parted his lips, but the truth stuck in his throat. 4S was so excited, and if he shot that down and told him the truth now of all times, they would never recover. Theta's words slithered through his memory, but he couldn't. He couldn't make himself lie.

So he just told a piece of the truth. "It's not the kind of problem we can solve by finding the closest android manufacturing site. Every YoRHa we want to transfer means getting access to a clear-state black box. And we'd need about three hundred if we wanted to transfer everyone."

"But…"

"4S. It was our purpose to die for a lie and we're alive despite that. Nobody is going to help us, and even if they wanted to, YoRHa are manufactured in a fully automated facility. The person Jackass wants to find and kill for creating us is probably the only one who knows the location."

4S's head dropped and his lips pressed to a thin, white slash. 9S could tell he wasn't done with the idea, and he envied that stubbornness, but the whole truth was so much worse than that. He didn't know what the black box was made of. 9S promised them both he would tell him the real reason as soon as he could. Any moment but now.

"I told you so I could get your help identifying them." He let his features soften. "The network is huge. It's hard even know where I am, much less identify single units when there's no black box signal. If I can find them, then the ones who aren't in there-"

"Should still be alive," 4S finished, the excitement rushing back to his face. "I'll have to look at your triangulation algorithms and come up with some simulations for you to run… I don't suppose you could just ask N2?" 9S shot him a dirty look and he quickly held up his hand. "Just asking, nothing wrong with using everything you can, forget I said it."

They were quiet again, but the air between them had a nostalgic sensation to it. The distinctive fizz of multiple scanners deliberating over a unique problem. If it were any less of a heavy subject than it was, it would have been impossible to get either of them to shut up. 9S gave it a day or two at best before that became the case anyway.

"Who're you betting on?" 4S asked with a grin.

"Betting on...?"

"Yeah, for who survived."

9S jerked back, his brows scrunching until they nearly touched as his fingers gripped at his collar. "What the hell?! That's so morbid!"

"It's the opposite of morbid. You know what kind of stories I told me and 11S when I was climbing that cliff? Stupid ones that couldn't possibly come true. So, I'm allowed to bet on 1S. I'm allowed to think 'Oh, that guy? He's always been the reliable type, I bet he made it." His voice cracked just a little at the end. He sniffed and adjusted his visor. "Come on. If your space cadet antics gave scanners a fighting chance, who do you think we'll meet again?"

"...3S. He was the server administrator, he was the oldest, and he never left the Bunker. He had to have known something was wrong, right?"

"Did you see him up there? Him or 801S?"

"No, why?"

The twitch of a smile tugged at 4S' mouth, but he quickly bit his lip to hide it and went back to his readout. "I think it's probably more likely 801S got out."

"Why him? 801S was like the last scanner model they made—he has no experience."

4S hummed, tilted his head faintly up toward 11S, and offered a coy murmur. "Woman's intuition."

The two small words filled 9S with the sharp recollection of a twin room where the scanners gathered whenever they could. Usually, just three or four of them, occasionally the full group whenever the Commander had a major operation planned or decided that a recuperation day would be psychologically beneficial. They would sit in a circle. 3S and 801S, the oldest and youngest scanners who were often quiet because they were never assigned to planet-side missions. 4S sitting between 11S and 1S, going on and on about some human paraphernalia he found while 1S read a book that 11S kept not-so-subtly trying to peek at. 32S describing every insignificant but cool thing on the ground while 42S followed crassly along adding every annoying inconvenience.

4S had a talent for complicated predictive analyses and liked to say his accuracy came from 'woman's intuition'—another human concept that made about as much sense as anything else. "Didn't 42S give you a really stupid nickname because you say stuff like that?"

"An incredibly stupid nickname," 4S agreed bittersweetly. He rested his hand on his cheek, and gently imitated 42S' jovial cadence without his distinctive lack of volume control. "Heya 4-Cast, what's the weather like these days~?'

It was accurate enough that 9S' mouth pressed into a trembling frown. None of them would ever get those treasured times back, but at that moment, giving them up felt like the worst thing possible. It might be irresponsible to hope for much after everything that had happened, but… With 4S and 11S alive, he couldn't help hoping that 4S' prediction was just as correct as all of his other ones.

Quickly rubbing his face, he dropped his legs back over the edge of the cot and leaned over to check 4S' readout. "What've you been analyzing, anyway?"

"It's a log of all mission-related communications from the Commander. I compiled it from the data you pulled in the network."

9S frowned. "You're supposed to be focusing on repairs. I told you, you don't have to help Jackass."

"Good thing I took your advice then, isn't it? I'm looking for stuff to help 11S." 4S grinned and lifted his head in a decidedly self-satisfied way. "And I think I found something."

"You…" A flutter passed through 9S' chest. "You did?"

"Yup! Executioner mission went down in this area, supposedly to eliminate a scanner given the dreaded B.R.R. stamp."

"Beyond reasonable repair…" 9S mumbled. "You think they might have stuff 11S can use?"

4S slid down from his cot. He still had a limp—the sub-processors in his right leg weren't cooperating with the restoration process and the leg's reaction time lagged just enough to give him trouble. "All they have to do is not be broken in the same ways he is. It's worth a shot."

"Wait, you're not going now, are you? Alone?"

"No way, you're coming with me."

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? I can barely walk. Are you really going to let a lone damaged ally wander off into the desert by himself in a time when YoRHa is feared and hated? Leave me, a scanner who can't scan or fight to go it alone?"

9S blinked, his mind already shooting off in a dozen different directions and converging on a single bit of aural data among 4S' theatrics. The desert. 4S wanted to go to the desert. Maybe he'd be able to find something, figure out what had happened to V and where he'd gone—

"You can't wander anyplace," Iota scolded. "You're in no condition to be exposed to sand."

"You're absolutely right," 4S said sweetly. "You should come too. That way we can make sure we get in, assess viable parts, and get out. It'll go nice and quick."

9S hopped down from his cot, straightened his jacket, and tightened control on his motor control until he was positive he wasn't shaking with either his anticipation or the effort of keeping the lid on it.

"Don't bother telling him no, Iota." He gave a long-suffering smile that he hoped wasn't too exaggerated. "He's made his plans and he'll go through with them with or without us. He's always been like that."

Iota crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed with the explanation. "So he is what's called a brat?"

4S answered with a loud, lively, and unoffended laugh. "Maybe so! But if it was your ass on the cot, wouldn't you want someone to get a little bratty about repairing you?"

Iota looked severely at 9S, at one admonishing him for not being stricter and warning him that this was a bad idea. But he just shrugged and offered a crooked smile. "Theta was just saying I should find a way to get out of camp for a while. I'm sure she won't mind both of us leaving as long as we're supervised. She knows I won't run off without 4S."

"And you know I'll be back for 11S," 4S beamed helpfully.

Iota threw her hands up. "You both know I don't make the decisions about this, so I think you're misunderstanding who you need to be talking to. Go talk to the Commander, and I'll get my gear together." 9S immediately dashed off to find Theta, but Iota's voice followed after him "If either of you get damaged out there, I'm going to double the cost of your repairs for ignoring me!"

9S yelled back without remembering to modulate the current eagerness out of his voice. "Yeah, yeah!"

A/N, since it's on the more obscure side and won't be explained in future chapters:

The woman's intuition bit is a reference to Attacker No.4, who was in the same squad as A2. Her number was assigned to be Scanner Only after that mission, hence 4S. She had a false memory of being a high school girl and I like to think little odds and ends of that old personality are just kinda baked in there regardless of the change in model type.