Haydee - Free Will

by AlexanderMugetsu

Through the walls and doors, past the machines and foes, and beyond what they didn't know, two unlikely people find themselves having to stick together to escape, and understand, this place, and what it all meant. Collab idea with Celfwrdderwydd.

7. Red Zone - Part 2

Throughout their journey thus far, that is, after the reveal that Dale may very well be her creator, Haydee's mind consistently retread those thoughts of how pleasant that would be if found true.

Not so much for the idea that Dale put 'love' into his work, as it were. Granted, she could see Dale being very passionate about doing what he loves or is good at, but rather what she was referring to was the major thought that one as kind as he gave her ability to think. A part of her had always wondered, with her combat capabilities, high A.I. and womanly figure, what her true purpose was meant to be. Even the abled thought that it was to protect the human seemed honestly negligible, since little evidence beside mere circumstances proved otherwise. Yet, if going by the knowledge that her creator was the human trailing on beside him, then she at least could be rest assured her origin was not based towards malicious conduct.

True, it was not of her mindset to objectify the commands of the higher-ups. She was built to serve, and going at any moment against the controls of her overseers would negate her actual purpose in the first place, paradoxically taking away any reason she had to exist in the first place. But the knowledge, or at least, the idea that Dale, the kind, charming, hate less man beside her, was the one that gave her operations an Artificial Intelligence, the ability to understand and judge, then she could genuinely go with a positive outlook that she was not crafted for cruel intentions.

Still, she had wondered what exactly her true intent was. Even starting from the beginning of her awakening she had been pondering over the specifics about why she was given an operation. None of her other kind did, and all others were but corpses, so why, of all reasons, was she the one that got solely picked to turn on? Chance, she suspected, but chances over what?

Chances she doubted she'd find the answers to anytime soon. Perhaps, perhaps not, but it won't exactly be presented in full front of her, as the stretch of basic hallway that leads out from the bizarre gate wasn't exactly her first choice for finding answers. For now, she at least could move forward with the reasonable speculation that perhaps it was to aid Dale's seeking of shelter.

Though, that wasn't the only speculation she had when she moved through the hallway. It was not lost on her, even once, of how strange of a place this new room held to its own regard. She had expected, to a certain degree, that this new room would hold some difference; otherwise why the need for the odd doors. To say what she had been expecting couldn't exactly be properly debunked, as only unviable, sketched ideas came to her mind as opposed to a useful finished drawing of clarity. But in the least, what her eyes were drawn to here was not what her clouded interpretations would have come to a conclusion towards.

Metal walls and ceilings, even the floor below her feet was of stainless steel design. Not porcelain tiles or bricks. But full on a steeled hallway. As she moved, her boots made loud clanking on the floor, not so unlike the reminiscent trails over the higher levels of a room prior, but even that had stoned columns and walls. Here, it seemed so far less. . . oppressive? Inorganic? Cold? She was not entirely sure what the best word to use here was.

Granted, her internal thermal vision deduced the floor to barely be a few degrees shorter than previous tiles, but still this place just gave off an image of unwanted chill. In the least, Dale seemed largely unaffected by this notion, or at least kept it well hidden, whatever his mind was currently thinking did not seem tied to the coolness under his toes, as his focus was more tied to the world around him. She at least didn't have to feel any more apprehension for him now.

Walking forward along the hallway, the two passed some more, of all things, seats tied to the sides of the walls. The generic, simple, plastic kind that lacked any kind of expensive distinction to it. Seeing little importance there, she marched them forward, passing by more of those seats and crossing a threshold of the hallway that opened up by its sides, revealing;

Cages! Crap, and just when she had believed those canine contraptions were a thing of the past! Instantly she did not let the room ambush her, and with a shooting arm pulled Dale right into her back, while the other surged forward and wiped out her piece. Taking no seconds for comfort, Haydee prepared her body for what was to come as her body turned to immediate alert.

"Haydee, it's okay. . ." The tentative whisper of the human brushed against her neck, somehow starting to soothe her clenched joints. "I. . . I don't think there's anything here for. . . me. . . " Looking left, and right, she saw cages, all open for the world to see. Yet what she didn't find was those malicious, mauling machines that threatened to tear the human apart; inside or outside. In fact, she couldn't even find a single trace of their existence here at all.

It was completely barren. Free from the fright of those cruel robots. Free from. . . the sights and sounds that inflicted Dale with complete dread. She allowed him to carefully drop off her back as her arm slowly raised away at that. If there wasn't a danger present then. . . Dale did not need to be protected so thoroughly. He should. . . be free to explore. Yes, so long as there was no danger he would be safe, and thus she should better her guard.

So long as her watchful gaze made sure no dangers were present. At least then she would see no dangers were present around him.

"Looking a bit closer, these don't remind me too much of those cages from before, actually. They seem. . . a little more bearable." Curious by his meaning, Haydee walked forward towards the nearest cages, or at least the ones Dale's was hovering in front of. Setting her sights on the specific cage the human was eyeing onto, she'd also state open but all else of them here already were, she firmly creaked wide the metal bars before her and took a peek inside. Truly, she found quite the odd contrast of colours from within.

Inside, walled over by the most lifeless, unenthusiastic, bland drab of greys that housed in the bizarrely out of place item held within; was a single hot-pink plastic bowl. Clean, albeit used by age, it was the only thing she found this open cage to hold, sitting alone and unused within the small holding cell. In fact, taking a look away clued her in this was not a one time deal, as many of the other cages also held those cheap looking Polyethylene-Terephthalate bowl-shaped creations, albeit coming in a myriad of oddly bright, gaudy shades themselves. It seemed so. . . genuinely out of place, even without the backdrop of this room encompassing them.

"And look here. There are labels over each of these cages." Looking further, she found that, true to his word, small little slips of paper, of an off beige in contrast to the endless greys, stuck to the middle top of each of these open cells. Granted, most of these were sadly incomprehensible now; most looked to have been ripped off some time ago, leaving behind only scrapped remnants of what used to be; yet a few others. . .

"Subject 99318, Cavia porcellus." Dale read aloud as he inspected one such label that managed to get left behind by the aeons ago removals. "Hold on. I know that. . . That's a Guinea Pig!" Without giving a reply to the confused human that looked her way, Haydee began to tap a few times over her chin.

The pieces were unravelling, but they weren't stringing together anything for a logical conclusion. With the plastic bowl found in, combined with the stated labels, for the least of her efforts of understanding, gave her the impressions that, once, such mammals were kept within. But why? And why here of all places? This whole building seemed more like a death trap than a veterinarian's office. Why would anyone so much as think of bringing in and keeping such tiny creatures as those in here? And better yet; what purpose would there be in keeping them here in the first place?

Nothing at all was present to define that. Nothing at all that was found here gave any such clue or indication for an answer. It was a complete mystery; one she wondered if she was ever going to find the answers for it.

"Well. . . The cages look like they haven't been used in years. So if anything was here, they should be long gone by now." She nodded to his statement. If such mammals were nearby, then droppings or even mummified corpses would at least be present in some form or manner for indication. Yet the floor was as clean as the cages. Whether or not there were rodents that once called these cages home, she found zero suggestion they may still roam these halls once more.

"And I don't see anything suggesting a struggle either." He loudly mused as he took a step back from the cages. "The cages are cleaned out, and the bowls are empty. I can't really give a suggestion that something bad had happened. Though, perhaps it's best not to think of only the worst happening, right?" She nodded. Sometimes the better outcome was the only one that came to fruition. Why only focus on the worst.

Or focus on only the now. No matter what the duo would say and think of these cages, they seemed to mean little to nothing in regard to finding Dale's zone of safety, let alien answers to this place at last. With a tilt of her head, she ushered him to move along. He offered no forms of resistance in return, allowing them to get back on track; and to the singular door found right at the end of the hallway.

Another odd looking door, albeit one that didn't look as wide as before. Normal sized, and the only way forward. Unlocked to boot. The way offered them no challenge, and gladly accepting this little mark of good will Haydee cleanly looked to the handle. With nothing left to lose, and Dale trailing rightly behind, she moved to the door with pace, knowing that she knew little of the way beyond the door, but also acknowledging the likelihood of something grand occurring in some measure.

Right in front, she opened the door, and stepping she found out beyond the reaches of the gate laid was. . .

Was this a room; or a closet?

As the door closed behind them, a mere second after Dale stepped into this room right after, Haydee could only stare forward and do nothing else except notice how cramped it was. Barely looking to house even the two of them, she felt Dale's weight on her back even when she pushed herself more forward to give him space. The way ahead held but another door for them to bypass into, but so little of her mind told her to immediately walk ahead. Instead, she briefly observed what else this room had to offer, that is, very little else, before she decided to press out of here.

"Ugh, this place is too small for us." She heard Dale mutter as he pulled himself away from her backside. "Hold on, I'll reopen the door and give you some space. . . " Highly unnecessary, as though she did hold some wonder on whether or not the human felt at standard in being stood inside this cramped, bare holding cell of a room, their way both forward and out was but a click away. Give herself a second and the two could easily just-

"Uh. . . Haydee? Not to alarm you or anything, but the door won't open." Interlude with sounds of clicking on the handle did the human's frantic sounding statement breach her head. As she looked back and saw the human fervently trying to pry open the door, swiftly did she pull out her hands to stop him. Not to entirely stop the attempt of opening it back up, however, as with a push she guided the human out the way, gently pushing him alongside then behind her as she got in close and held the handle firmly. With her more advanced strength, she quickly figured the handle simply had gotten stuck, age having likely rusted some of the joints, yet that had quickly proven itself untrue as even when leaning down and putting her strength in her legs; the handle just wouldn't budge in the slightest.

Slamming her fist into the door, Haydee sought only frustration as the correct word to use here. In the very least, she managed to remember this was not the door they needed to open to proceed forward, likely just in time before her vain yanks may very well end up breaking the lock itself. So standing right back, she thought to keep this locked door at the back of her mind for the current moment as prepared herself in grabbing the humans worried side and opening up-

". . . Haydee. . . what does that mean?" The human sounded scared again, only strengthening her resolve to get him out. However, when she turned back around to the human in front did she find something unexpected written out.

It was not the other handle she had feared became locked again, instead what the worried human was looking to was not on the door itself, but up top and right above it. As shining out in red letters, written in ordinary English, did the words 'DECONTAMINATION IN PROGRESS' flash over the door.

Decontamin-

Suddenly, in ambush, it was all over them. Above themselves, from the ceiling above, did streams of white, foggy gas erupt into the enclosed chamber. Aiming to breach into every tiny crack and crevice of this place, within seconds did the thick mist surround them and entrap them in an atmosphere of white cloud.

"Cough! Hack!" The sounds of intense choking penetrated past the dense smoke and breach into her ears. Swiftly did Haydee examine the miasma that threatened to engulf them both, knowing that though she lacked the lungs necessary for oxygen absorption, there was another here whose body demanded the presence of natural clean air. "Gag! God. . . This smell. . . ugh it's burning my nose. . . " The human feebly sprouted out from within the smog. She understood his pain, and wished above all to stop the presence of this smother from, yet she also knew whatever was going on should not harm him.

That said, his distressed sounds, combined with the disturbing noises of his mouth gagging out the undoubtedly unpleasant adore, still managed to put her on edge. Likely, even if the human knew this smoke would not cause him major harm, his body would still reject the gas forthright, and believing it would not help but instead hinder his mental state, the gynoid deciding that the least she should do was hold him tightly to try and calm his nerves.

However, when her hand punctured through the mist to reach the human's shoulder, her fingers barely grazed the hem of his shirt as the human suddenly shot forward. Barely able to see but a shadow in the wisp, she saw the form slam into the door in front a mere moment before the frantic repetition of door-handle groping burst through this sanitising cloud.

"Cough! Need to get out! Need to get out!" He hectically repeated as he continued to juggle the handle with utmost agitation. He state looked to be getting worse, his coughing running ragged, and refusing to let his state keeping getting worse the gynoid let herself forward into the smog, leaping to where the human would be - just in time to see the clouded writing up top change itself to 'DECONTAMINATION COMPLETE' before the rush came out.

The sounds of gas bursting out halted a mere second before the gas ruptured forward, vacuumed out like space itself was being ripped apart before them. The shadow of the human she was so close to grasping fell just short of her hand once again as the fog began to clear out the chamber; along with the male's own body. Though his fall seemed more akin to a trip once the door was shoved forward, the man did not let his dive go to waste as the human caught himself from falling headfirst into the floor, holding himself by his hands and arms, while he continued to sputter out the final remnants of the vapour.

His expulsion was unpleasant to hear, but in the least, she saw it thankful they were out now, and finally could reach him with a bend over, gently offering some mild support as she rubbed at his back. She knew that, as much as the sounds disturbed her, she could do little else but let his body expel the effluvium on his own. In the least, stroking his back she saw as letting him remember she was here for aid.

". . . I'm okay." He managed to cough out a few seconds after. His voice haggered, but she did not detect any excess abnormalities with it. "I'm. . . feeling a lot better now." His breath still hung short and choked, but she did not call it a lie, as the pants he was making started to slow down and give way to normal air hitting his lungs. His arms stopped shaking, and he stopped arcing his body out. The last remnants of the smog spilled out around her, dissipating into the air to no longer make a bother for the human.

"I think. . . It's out of me now, Haydee." He looked back, still lightly coughing yet let himself cool down. "Thank you. I'm feeling a lot more. . ." His voice trailed down once when he looked out, through the last remnants of mist, and into the clear air that allowed fair view into what could be seen in front of them.

". . . Fine?. . . " As the final word escaped his mouth, so did she trail her vision away from him to the forward where lived the fray, to the objectives found within this room they only now noticed. . . and to a sight that left both of the members of this party unable to think, speak, or even fully determine what their eyes were glancing onto.

This place still kept that metallic shine, of bland and grey structure. The room itself could be called thin and narrow, but also large reaching out to places they were unable to see the end too. The main light that persisted here was not made from the overhanging lights from above, but from multiple, almost endless arrays of a murky green light shining to them from both sides, hitting their faces and forms with their array of identical origins, that is, of large oval chambers. Yet it was not the colour of the lights that left the duo here speechless, a low-level glow separated from the two by large glass walls running along the corridor, allowing them to see everything that was forced out of their reach. It was not the endless space either, covered up by so many numbers of the chambers that held the prasine lighting to say how far it stretched could only be considered a throwaway answer at best. It was actually the oval chambers themselves, the large sized holding pods with glassed casings that caught their thoroughly disturbed eyes.

Because housed inside almost each, and every one of these capsules floating inside the verdant liquid, laid in the unconscious, unmoving bodies of humans.

Organic humans.

Humans. . . that all looked exactly like Dale.

For what could have been up to a minute, not a single noise was made. Not a peep, not a move, only a stare as the encroaching sights before them threatened to swallow them whole with their mere presence alone. Though not a single eye rested on the two, that thought didn't help them keep their nerve. It was only the sound of hidden machinery that broke their silence.

Shock and horror may have frozen them, but it was Haydee that somehow melted the ice first. Standing up, her arc lethargic and unfocused, Haydee raised a tentative step forward before hitting the metal floor with a thump that somehow echoed out to the far corners of this dimension. The ambient drone was the only sound that filled up the brief silence after every thump of Haydee's boots, the noise fly washing over them only when Haydee's stride paused in the centre of this room, letting a shadow of a nearby pod encompass her while her strained focus could only stare at the image inside.

Indeed, as impossible as it sounded at first, as impossible as it still sounded now, as she looked into the glass pod before her, staring at every detail of the humans' body: from the brown hair that was tapered over by a bunch of piercing wires, to the lithe form with a muscular and skeletal structure that she could not identify as different in any way, to even the innocent form it held; Haydee could not see it as anything else other then what her first immediate thought could be.

Inside the glass chamber was Dale. A Dale. The monitor right above stating in plain letters 'DNA TEMPLATE: D. MARSHALL' did not help her to refute the truth that was presented before her. Rows and rows, endless amounts that connected to each of their personal pods by some umbilical cord attached to the side of the stomach, held aloft in the liquid like meat on hooks, bodies of the very same human that looked exactly like Dale stood before her as if pleading to get out.

"Haydee. . . what am I looking at?" The sound of speaking, sounds of the only human she has ever known broke her from her unbeknownst stupor. With it so tied to her mindset now, the feeble question she first thought came out the mouth of the body before her. But no, it only came from one origin, an origin her head trailed round to see accompanied by the backdrop of many others repeating his form and figure. Around them did the green-tinted bodies hover over him like shadows willing to take his form.

"What is this place?" She had no answer, nothing to give. There was nothing she knew about this place, or even anything now. Nothing made sense, Everything felt like a lie, everything. . . that the conscious one was experiencing himself.

"Haydee; please answer me. What the hell am I looking at?" She looked away. In only shame. The human's voice was ragged again, but it was not smoke ingested in his lungs that made his voice crack like so. It was not a disinfectant vapour that caused his jaw to stammer. It was not anything that dared to touch him that made him shake and shiver like he was. His body trembled, but above all did she only saw his face reflected off the glass pane. He said every word towards her, but not once did he even look at her, as if she was only part of the scenery.

She could not bear to look at him, for reasons she could not even try to pick at. Instead, her head could not look at anything else but in front; or rather steps to the side in front, because as something odd, something that almost made her double take even for the situation they were in now, caught Haydee's sight as she almost jumped herself in front of a nearby pod.

While inside may have laid another human body, it was not a perfect replica of the Dale behind her. Because not all of them were in the same stages of growth. Some were nearly fully adult, others younger, and some, like the one her body chose to step towards: One that couldn't have been older than seven years of age.

Trapped inside the tank, unconscious, naked, completely ignorant of the world outside it's holding cell, nay, completely ignorant of being another Dale among hundreds. When her inorganic hand reached out towards the child, all it could touch was thickened glass, one that firmly separated her from coming within two feet of even the pods own glass window. So close, yet also so far from her reach, when her hand slowly slid down her feeble force allowing only that to occur, her sight stayed completely on the child, on the innocent, pure kid sleeping inside that Smaragdite cage.

It's mouth may have stayed close, never once attempting to scream out in confusion for its circumstances, but Haydee was sure she suddenly heard an echoing cry: of the kid, wandering these halls alone, lost and afraid, babbling out for its mommy. This facility, this hellhole of a construction was not fit to house a child like this, it would be truly helpless, truly vulnerable to the hate this place could dish out to anyone. . . To think that it would have been Dale even more vulnerable and innocent rambling around these walls. A child, no less, she. . . she. . . could not bear to see it. Her body. . . was hurting. Breaking and burning up from the inside as all she could think about was this child stuck, cold and alone somewhere in this place. . .

Open it up. . .

Children. . . should never be hurt for any reason. . .

Open it up DAMMIT!

The echoed sound of a fist hitting a pane of glass broke into the eardrums at those that chose to listen. Again. And again. Her pleas went nowhere, no matter how hard she slammed her balled-up hand to the window. The child would not be released. The Dale. . . would be. . . would never know of her attempts of freeing.

Her hammering may have stopped, but her mindset did no such action. Her head continued to relay in her mind the idea of this child lost in these ever disparaging walls, mumbling out cries for his non-existent parents. Her fist still balled up, but rather it again smashed into the window instead it just simply. . . opened up, falling down as it no longer held strength any longer. All her artificial muscles failed on her now as the only thing of hers that touched this glass was her forehead as she leaned onto the pane. She suddenly felt so heavy, she could not muster the power to pull herself away. She was. . . so useless. . .

No.

No she would not let herself become so helpless!

Her fist reappeared, and when it slammed into the glass a final time she gathered up what strength she still held and pulled herself off the pane. She forced her legs to hold her steady, sanctioned her innate powers to hold her ground and quickly moved herself away from the window to swiftly look around; to find something, anything that would allow the chance to free this boy.

When her sights caught onto a console over at a far side; she almost rushed to it with the pace of a madman. Hooked right onto the window, Haydee offered everything else no heed as she swiftly activated and watched the display appear on the window itself. Wasting no time she tapped through the windows, shifting through the many documents contained in this computer to look for and find the release control for these chambers.

She found much to say, much. . . for her to feel innate dread over. Within the files and windows held dizzying arrays of biological data on the clones: Growth rates, enhancements, Neural-Data Transfer, there were tons of medical data like this to be found within this tiny console: But not a thing that would ail her aching mind, as her search came up empty unless one was trying to find what 'Altered 33-EA-00113 to 44-QD-99781' meant. If anything, her swimming on through this torrent of information, pulling and swiftly reading through the texts before moving on to the next document, began to do little more than make her all the more angry in return. Yet what caught her eye more than anything else was the readout of 'Specimen Batch DE40-047E genetic defect detected in Gene Code 8. Specimen line purged.' within one file. Suddenly it felt as if someone punched through her armor and into her stomach, denting her internal hardware. She knew what this meant; and she hated it all the same. They weren't even called people in these files, just 'Specimens', inanimate playthings for a hidden puppeteer to string around.

She almost gave up hope, but with one final attempt she tried something new; searching for the release command specifically. Like a candle on it's last knot of wax, her hope still stayed as she looked into the files, looked deeper into the software to find that one hidden command cushioned within this abyss of dark walls to find that singular command that she immediately pressed upon her blind reach in and-

'SPECIMEN COMMENCEMENT BY MASTER CONTROL AUTHORIZATION ONLY!

OUTSIDE AUTHORIZATION NOT PERMITTED!'

. . . So

. . . This is what it feels like to be truly powerless. To be weak, ineffective, useless. To have no control; to just be completely unable to do anything. How could she; most of these bodies have yet to fully mature to become an adult. She still had her gun with her, yet she suspected shooting the glass tanks would do far more damage than good, she. . . she couldn't find the other option. There had to be, should. . . shouldn't there? But couldn't think of a separate action to take now, her mind blank.

She. . . cannot release them.

Not these, or any, like her fallen units, have come by before. And if Dale, the only one fully conscious behind her, was not the first one to try and escape this place then that would mean-

With a boom that echoed into the large chamber itself Haydee's hands slammed into the desktop. The clap of anger boomed out into the void around them, a blast of noise so sudden and jolting it would have enraptured the confused focus of the bodies hanging around them if not for their forced state of unconsciousness. However, despite all previous observations when her hands slammed into the console below her it was not crafted by the wrath-filled intentions of balled-up fists; but rather, a flat slam caused by her palms pressing onto the controls.

And it was not anger that caused her arms to shake and quiver like it was doing, but rather something else, something that was brought on by the immediate realization that the blood, bile and unjustifiable death that came about from unknown time ago were of a kind too close in comfort for her mind to handle. She could not even look upright now, could not even have the strength to stand on her two feet. All she could see was the desktop below her, the hands holding her steady, or as best they could, as they trembled in place. The gynoid, for all her computing mind could process, for all her impossible quick and complex functions that can out level any human; could only think back onto those she was too late to save. Those whose fates she could not liberate.

And the one; who is still keeping nearby.

Of all the things she had to forget, Dale still being in this room was the one that immediately ate at her the most. Despite the shock, confusion and revelation she was currently best upon with; there was another within this verdant, suffocating room whose own experiences must have been outclassing her own. Selfish denial or just overwhelmed by everything surrounding her, Haydee's realisation it was not her here that would be effected so greatly snapped her attention away from the computer displaying useless information up front and demanded her body spin around, so fast her neck would have broken off, to look behind at the human staring directly at the closest tank in front.

His back was to her, and the only visible parts of his face she could see were reflected off the glass pane, off the glass window of the tank he was currently staring towards. One that housed a copy looking to be no more older than himself, as if looking down to the copy below. She wasn't entirely sure, but upon her immediate observation back she thought he saw him lowering his shirt while he continued to keep eye contact with the chamber up front. He was silent as he stared, as he investigated, the human not making so much as a peep as he gazed at the unconscious floating body that mirrored over him.

Watching him, the gynoid stood away to silently observe his every action, his every reaction. She saw his hand trail upwards, to press into the glass that separates him from the copy, and be left there for a few seconds longer before being pulled away, for Dale appearing to stare at his own fingertips.

". . . It's the same. . . " She barely heard him whisper out, voice so low that if she hadn't seen his reflection she was sure the noise would just originate from a creaky vent. "Everything. . . is the same. . . " She took a step forward, a move that led her closer to reach him as she continued to watch him over, pursuing his shadow as she heavily believed his mental state was already fractured by this full-screen epiphany.

"Am I. . . even human? Just. . . what the hell even am I?" She took another step towards him. To what end she would meet she was still unclear of, but at least if she were to reach him she would try and find a way to-

"WHO THE HELL AM I? WHO AM I, HAYDEE?" The shout that blasted her way carried enough weight for her foot to retreat one step back. Yet it was not the boom that caused her hesitant minor departure. It was not the force of the shout itself, nor even the banging of his fist on the glass that pushed herself away.

"WHAT IS ALL THIS? WHY IS THIS HERE? JUST WHAT. . . " It was the face he made when he looked at her that caused her reaction to occur. ". . . am I. . . " The anger vanished from his face, just like the colour in his once rosy cheeks. The final question he breathed out was comparable with the final energy of a dying bulb. His body, already having been hunching over, now almost pressed into the separating glass if not for his hand propping him up. And his face, not only lacking that adorable, positive smile and expressions she preferred to see him wear; from the reddening, wet eyes to the drooping mouth, she saw that the expression the human before him was wearing was a pained expression she instantly sought to hate. She despised it all. Wanted it to be wiped clean from his face forever.

"Is that all I am?" His trailed whisper came alongside his turn back to the vat suspending himself in the liquid. "A carbon copy, a fake, not even a real person?" He never registered the gentle footsteps coming up behind him, his eyes pertaining only to the gestation form before him. "I am just a thing then?" His eyes looked back to his twitching hand, never once noticing the large form right behind him. "Nothing about me is. . . unique-" His hand started to ball-up; but instantly the tension was released when a sudden weight crashed onto his shoulder. A grip so tight it could have broken his shoulder if so desired, and a force that easily could have thrown him far away to the other side of this hallway; yet all the power it held did nothing more than slowly lean his body up to look at the expressionless form before him. The other hand of the machine raised to his own balling hand, grasping around it slowly, gently wrapping her fingers around his as she let her strength permeate over his weaker appendage.

With his attention purely on her, she felt to let go; and with her audience now only zoomed in on her she made her motions. A wave to the area in front, around him, before shaking her head. Then with the same hand she utilized she tapped at his chest, nodding right to him.

To others, what she had just tried to speak may have gotten lost in translation. But to herself, and for sure, the human, the definition of her explanation was as easy to read as lavish words written out on paper. And before she could let his thoughts move astray she instantly strode on behind herself, back to the desktop, to quickly type out something on the keyboard before sliding herself to the side and motioning for him to look at the display up front.

All she had just done, all the movements she had made, words to express, they were all done with one honest intention: to keep Dale's mental state from falling any deeper into the abyss. Dale did not deserve that, he was not someone she wanted to see break down any further than he needed to, or should. As, despite what all around them may detail towards; despite these bodies holding his face, his voice, even his intelligence, each and every one lacks something about them that this Dale has; his own experience. His own history. His growth as a person. It was what's on the inside that counts; all simply because:

"Dale. . . is Dale. . . " He read aloud as he looked at the words displayed on the screen. She tried not to nod, but she couldn't hold back her jubilation very well. As such her fervent nod bobbed her head back and forth like a bobblehead. No matter what all these bodies around him tried to silently say, no matter how many copies of some original she was unsure this Dale actually wasn't of (even though she knew she had yet to find evidence of this possibility), she knew she could never replace this Dale for any other; as he lacked the true personality and change this one had experienced with her. This one knows her in ways only this one could now, and the same in reverse order. She wanted - she knew this Dale would understand all this. In the end; above all did she heavily believe with all her mindset that he knows he, despite what all around could entail, he is his own version. That was a certainty Haydee understood above all else.

"Yeah; me. . . and all these other clones."

Haydee felt like she had been gut punched.

Even when lacking the biological organs to feel such a blow, she still knew that sentence completely shattered all the glass bearings keeping her standing up. She. . . tried her best here, figuring out the correct solution to help him. . . and she saw by her very own eyes it still wasn't enough. But. . . this was the correct solution for her. This was the necessary statement to bring Dale's psyche out from the cesspool of resentment. That should have been the perfect result for him to understand she sees him as his own person, regardless of what the tanks around him tried to say.

"I'm sorry, Haydee: You must be so disappointed. I guess I am not really your creator after all." . . . She needed to leave. They needed to leave. Out of this place, out of this. . . laboratory for unabashedly unclear but unpleasant intentions. This was no safe haven, it was a realm of bewilderment and animosity, made to spin those who enter in through a worsening loop. Whatever this whole purpose was it was not for the purest of goals, and it did not aid them in any way. As blunt as it was to say, this place held nothing of good intent for them, and they must leave her before it tries to make him worse.

She clapped. Twice. His eyes looked onto her, and even when she wished to do above all slap away that darning expression that flat out doesn't suit the Dale she has known for this long. With motion she told him they were to leave, to the other door at the end of the hallway. One she inwardly hoped would lead to a place not filled with reminders of one's own lack of uniqueness. An usher, and Haydee walked away, beginning to make stride towards the exit out as her boots clacked against the metal and echoed out to the glass around them. . . only to stop upon the realization her footsteps were the only ones being created here.

Turning back around, she found to her dismay the sight of the human not following her. His eyes were not centered on herself, but instead his vision seemed to aimlessly drift to the unattainable area out there, looking at any speck of difference he may have been trying to find to differentiate himself from these other. . . clones.

Her shoulders drooped; she hated for him to see himself this way. Replaceable, unoriginal. Simply a drop in a puddle. He was completely wrong, and she knew that deeply. None of these copies held what he has, what he is and what he means to herself. His state was a funk that, until she got through to him, would force him into this state of low self-worth. She saw his dilemma, and above all, knew it could not be changed so drastically. Eventually, she believed, eventually she would aid his woes, but for now their best option was to leave, and do so immediately.

She moved back to him, and standing by her side, she simply waited. Made no physical move, made no noise, just waited, until he noticed her reflection upon the glass. Once he did, once he saw the faceless head peering at him, one that noticed back, he looked properly to her when he saw movement being made in the reflection. When he looked around, finally having his eyes pried off the unbearable sight that could only make anything worse, he found all things being presented to himself; a palm. An empty hand, held out to him.

There was nothing there but air. At least; of one was hoping to look for something. Instead, what Haydee gave to him was not an item nor a heal for his mind, but a gesture. One to signify that despite it all, she wanted him to take it.

"If I have no choice." No, he had a choice. He always had a choice; from the beginning did he always have a say of what to do. He always had a choice, a moment to do as he wished. If he had an idea in mind, then she would always allow his voice to be heard. It was his choice if he wanted to take her hand; she refused to let him think he was but a cog in a bigger machine, another implement meant to do one duty.

The way he touched her hand, without grace or tentativeness, but lethargic moves ate at her, as even the knowing glee he was agreeing to go with her did not help in the matters his moves came as robotic as hers. A far difference they held, sharing only what was ever necessary, a sentience and intelligence, a person born to be free. Once her fingers draped over his, her moves came with grace over his own disinterest, she held onto him fairly as she began to guide him.

Her steps were slow, even though each stomp still sounded so loud when making traversal inside this landscape. They muffled out the human's own, his bare feet slapping into the floor with only a vague essence of noise, drowned out by the heavy footwear of the gynoid. Being the only noise he made as she led him away, her worry over him never once ceased. The bodies were still floating around, all eyelids shut, but the underlying thought they were watching him was. . . illogical, but not completely invalid somehow as well. A constant reminder to himself he was a copy, a consistent doubt he was not his own person.

But he was. She truly believed that of Dale. As he kept silent, his mouth not opening even once she knew to make sure he eventually sees by the end of this place he is an individual as any other. To have what she was never meant to hold.

They left, breaching into the doorway with a kick ignited by Haydee's determination as they left this warehouse of troubling containers with the hope the next way on would hold better tidings.

---

The least she desired was to no longer see those bodies hanged in chambers like testing dummies awaiting usage. Not out of innate malice, but instead she knew just how much longer staying in that keep of forbidden knowledge would reap more into his continuously straining psyche. Along with that; the conclusion was that no matter what she could try; she simply could not release the clones from their vats. As upsetting a revelation it was to be, standing within that room only dampened the necessity to continue on. Even having read that the clones' growths are accelerated barely changed how tumbled she saw the situation.

So, perhaps once, she was thankful that luck finally gave the duo a helping hand, or at least smidge of a wipe, because when the two stepped forth into the next room; it was one not filled to the brim with an abundance of identical, sleeping copies. That said, however, when the gynoid looked down to the man still holding a barely present grip on hers she found his persistent state, of lethargic eyes and vaguely present interest in all manner of things around him, she was sure that any sure fire chance of horrible luck could not make the situation even worse.

With his face now free from green lighting, only pure common white light that seeped into every crevice, she finally could see his expression for what fully held. And she did not like it. His smile was gone, his glowing irises were devoid of those bright glints she had grown heavily accustomed to, and he did not fully even care for what entailed in the walls now surrounding him: even if they were to fully envelope his fragile form, he wouldn't so much as notice their presence. Her grip on his only furthered, her fingers squeezing his own ever more as she inwardly promised she would lead him this way right up until the end if she had to.

But to do so they must press forward, something Haydee would repeatedly do with immediate observation. The room they now found themselves in was highly unlike the room prior, a thought Haydee saw as a blessing in disguise. With a lack of holding chambers, unobtainable chasms or even metal borders to house them in, it was a far cry in looks when compared to the place prior. Tiles surrounded them, a pleasant return too if she could call it that.

More than tiles, at that. Along both sides of this wide, unassertive hallway stood out a number of large windows, each one with a door attached right beside it. Though thankfully unlike the windows of rooms prior these did not open out to a chasm but instead into a small room. Curious, alongside the wonder if perhaps they host something useful inside, Haydee led the way on.

Though she knew upon the first minor tug leading the human while he kept to that current fragile state of mind was not going to help his psyche, she still knew staying here was not going to help in the slightest either. If anything, getting as far away as the room prior must certainly come to some benefit for the lethargic human. That said, even as she tugged him on, gently guiding him to tread alongside her to a place she believed he barely might care about, given his current state, she made sure to keep a watchful eye on him. With the other; she made sure to look forward and search for anything that may benefit the necessity of her helping him.

Said human provided no resistance as she walked him on, carrying forward with her yet only doing because she guided him. His feet did not drag or sag, but they may as well have been with how passive they stepped. Keeping that close eye on him, the other in turn looked forward towards the window, towards the sight that is the small room behind it, and looked in for anything of important note.

Nothing remained inside, however. No table or chair, nor anything of other note. It was an empty, blank room, housed in by four walls with the only way in being the door kept beside. Testing it, she grabbed at the handle and began to rattle it, only finding it locked closed.

Finding it strange such an empty room existed here for no reason, she let her eye wander over towards the text written on the door, on a small plaque attached onto the normal door itself; whereupon it read:

'Moral Test #3'

Written alongside a sign showing a person being shot and killed.

With her hand slightly tensing as she made sure Dale was still attached to herself Haydee made a swift trudge forward. He made no apprehension about it, and to Haydee's knowledge not once noticed the sign on the door, perhaps a small moment she was thankful his usual inquisitive had, hopefully temporarily, ceased for the time being, allowing her to easily guide him out as she strongly figured little of use existed here for either of them.

Quickly passing away from the rest of the minor locked rooms, Haydee quickly found herself within an open passage. Not wanting to imagine what the point was for the tests that had occurred there Haydee set her sights on the way forward, around, in hopes something more vital was to be found. If not, she would settle for something less abhorrent. Taking her gate to be solid and steady, Haydee moved onward with Dale in tow, keeping him close by as she looked around the open set.

As she met up to a corner and turned it, the gynoid found herself in a rather different section. Not just of the two places prior, but of this place in general. Fluorescent tubes lit up the area, of those that still stayed on and operational, allowing her to see the pristine grey tiles of the floor and walls. However, these walls did not remind her of many rooms they had searched through before, but more akin to that bizarre reception room she found herself in moments before first meeting the human now beside her. In an even more similar vein to that specific room, this place was aflutter with a cluttered mess.

A gurney had been shoved over, allowing it to clutter the floor with various surgical instruments, while other, miscellaneous random parts stained the otherwise clean floor. Actually, upon thinking that Haydee realized this place was not dusty and disused like said previous room, but clean and sterile, and far less of the floor was cluttered up. Tapping her chin for a moment as she gave it some idle wonder, the gynoid just simply shrugged as she looked forth to where the exit may be.

Many paths now laid before them; some from basic doors, others to open passageways to a place unable to be viewed. With the weak, half-limped lighting shining down into the wide crevices called an entry Haydee sought to wonder where to next.

Well. . . the path still leads forward, and without any symbols or text to guide their way she supposed continuing straight forth was a decent option to pick. The way back was still a viable choice if necessary, at least. Her mind set, she was ready to continue on forth, and only paused to make sure the human was still attached.

His eyes were not focussed ahead, instead his vision seemed to lie on the mess of tools lying on the floor nearby, fixated by their placid, unmoving appearance. "I bet those were used to pry me out of those tanks. Probably should have been better to have kept me locked inside." His words were spoken without caution or hesitation, but such a confident act did not come forth with any hint of tenacity springing from. Rather, the mumbled, half whispering tone of his voice sent a shiver up her spine when she realized the human spoke it without any presence over self-concern. She gave him a nudge of pressure before immediately striding her first foot forward, immediately making quick work away from the overturned gurney behind them.

Stepping forward, to call it entering the next area was a bit of a stretch to her. It felt like the last; more open passageways, more entrances to seemingly dead ends, more miscellaneous trash littering the floor. It felt so stale now, so devoid of emotions, even the bad ones. Perhaps that's what made it worse; to hold something is better than holding nothing.

Everything felt so repeated here; the same walls, same tables, same chairs, same Digital Entry atop one of those plastic chairs-

Hold it! And the gynoid did hold, as the once bustling female stopped her wide gate once she spotted the almost innocuous electronic sitting and unloved atop the simplistic seat. Her once faltering stance began to perk up, her grip on the man shook, though not out of fear or loathing. Rather, it was excitement that drove her to skip towards it. Her other hand at the ready she quickly reached within range of the pad and prepared to grasp her hands around the hem.

"Is there a point to them now?" His sudden question made her pause all motion. "They're not. . . about me. Just the real one, if anything. They won't help your matters at all, will they?"

He wasn't. . . entirely wrong. So far all the journals have only exposed the truth of someone's history, someone who. . . she may or may not have yet met. Above all, despite the clarity in saying that the journals seemed to specify events that seemed to be related to this place in certain ways, at least she theorized it to be, nothing thus far has given them any clues or guidance in figuring out this place as a whole, let alone aid them on their journey.

Yet still, Haydee. . . didn't feel it fair to dismiss the Digital Entry entirely either. There was still a chance, no matter how slim she could not deny, that the next entry may just contain some aid for them to behold. If not for this journey, if not for finding answer to everything caged within this realm; then perhaps maybe, just maybe, she would find something, anything, to help return warm spirits to the one that had devastatingly lost them so recently.

Besides, she. . . can't help but relish reading through the journals. Like a book, they contained questions she cannot help but wonder what the answers were to be. Perhaps they were just basic stimulation for a gynoid like her, a reading of words she couldn't gain anywhere else thus far since her awakening, but that didn't remove the fact she gained some jubilation in finding them. Above all, she had not seen any harm in quickly reading through them anyway, so as she firmly picked up the device, taking a moment to lightly looking back to look upon the face of the human - who presently only turned away in obvious disinterest - she pulled it up to her face and began to read on through:

"Entry 053

I am so tired, but at least I made lots of headway. I sat down with the General and director, and asked them what they wanted the new Hadie to do.

The basic plan is to have a pleasure model, with bodyguard capabilities, first and foremost, but that can also act as a "sleeper agent". Again, I should not be surprised. Well, first, the issues would be the build and function of the actual chassis. Working with the people in the Advanced Materials, I settled on Enduralloy. This will make for a light, but strong endoskeleton frame. While it will have servos, motors and pistons, synthetic muscles will also be used. In working on the design, I closely followed Hadie's design. And, while I didn't tell them, Hadie gave her input on the new design. I kept the design for her head, and also the arms and torso, but made some improvements. I added a charging port in the upper back, and also a neck guard, to protect the vulnerable neck joint and pistons. The body from the collarbone down will be humanoid. Synthetic muscles will be covered with a synthetic skin. I have to talk more with them about the synthetic muscles, and potential materials for skin, but I am happy with the overall design.

Entry 055

I have been working with the Biological Lab about the synthetic muscles, and have to say I am really impressed and amazed. Their muscles will work perfectly for the new Hadie design. They also are working on cybernetics, something else I have to say is fascinating. But, one thing I don't like is the fact they are using animals. In fact, all the guard dogs here are clones. German Shepherds. I may not like dogs, but I don't like cruelty to animals. But, what one of the techs said to me next floored me: They also use HUMAN test subjects.

Again, I don't know why I'm surprised. He said they use condemned prisoners, Death Row inmates, and they aren't pulling people off the streets.

Was this a mistake? At least Hadie is always here to comfort me.

Entry 058

I have been working with the Biological Lab about the synthetic muscles again, and I have to admit I am surprised at the synthetic skin they made a sample of. It was amazing! They even replicated the minute patterns of real human skin! Color me impressed. And combined with their research into cybernetics and things, they could do so much! Making a cybernetic prosthetic that perfectly mimics a real limb is well within their capabilities! I hope some of that research here will lead to such helpful things becoming commonplace.

I am even more optimistic.

Entry 079

I have been working hard and multitasking to do a lot, but I am happy with the results. I modified some of my very early designs for Hadie, and made two types of robots: One is equipped with blades for arms, and is very quick. I designed it to defeat soft armor and unaware targets. They both are modular, and the arms can be swapped out as needed. The General was impressed, and asked me to make more. I have not yet finished the design for the rifle-armed soldier the General wants, but if it's intended to be a front line combat robot, I will need to do lots of tests. But, the work here in the Robotics Division is going better than I imagined, for a change.

Entry 086

I am getting tired of having to argue with idiots at every turn! Today, I had to argue with an idiot from the Advanced Materials lab about the synthetic muscles and their use in the new Hadie model. I was ready to rip my hair out. This guy doesn't know the first thing about robotics, and here he is, sounding off on me about how I cannot have both synthetic muscles and servos, blah, blah, blah!

I finally shut him up when I slammed my fists down, leaned in, and asked if he'd like to be the first test subject to see if we can transplant natural muscles into a cybernetic body. I have to say, it was nice for once to make someone else piss themselves.

Why can't they accept that I know what I'm doing? I may not be that old, but I was the one who finally cracked the nut on genuine AI. A little credit where it's due. But, Hadie, as always, is helping keep me sane. Bless her.

Entry 100

We did the first test of one of my robot designs today. We tested the Slasher in a basic obstacle course. It of course passed, as I knew it would. it has a simpler AI, compared to Hadie, but still years from anything they had before. They seemed impressed with how fast it was. Not bad for a first try, but I can do better. I know I can.

Entry 119

For the first time, I saw the Testing Range. Here, they test things like rifles, new explosives and the like. They are working on a new explosive called Nitramine. It's a plastic explosive that is fifty times stronger than C-4. They are working on an explosive round for shotguns that, for their size, can match anything from the 40mm grenades they still use in most armies. I also saw an experimental rifle and shotgun combo. That's actually not a bad idea.

Entry 137

I participated in a live human subject test for the first time.

They tested the new proximity mines. It was . . . messy. I have to admit, I am not sure how to feel. The guy was convicted of murdering several women and children, but he was sobbing and saying he was innocent. From what I read about the case, it was not an isolated crime, and he was not just arrested for the single crime out of the blue, but still. Hadie watched with me, and she seemed to know I was uneasy. She held me close.

Entry 152

Today was actually a good day. I got to wipe that smug look off the face of the head of Advanced Materials again. Me and Hadie were in the Biological Lab, when she came by, not sure what for. She got that same smug grin, asked if Hadie had broken down, or I had been proven the "fraud" I was. When she saw Hadie handling the Guinea Pigs and petting them, she called her a doll. Hadie looked up, and flipped her off. I'm still laughing! That's my girl!

Entry 170

Today, I was finally able to do some things for Hadie. I upgraded her AI, and am working on a design update for her chassis. Drawing from the designs for the new version, I can make her a tiny bit more human-like. I am giving her wider thighs, to house more powerful synthetic muscles, larger pistons and servos. I also like the design. It makes her look more like a mature female, a woman, rather than a girl. The new Hadie design will be modular, and all sorts of variations could be made, in time.

Now that I have access to better materials and parts, I can really make her better. I want the best for her. Ever since I made her, Hadie has changed my life so much. She is always with me, and yes, I am aware of what the others say, and I don't care, never did, never will. Hadie is my very best friend. My only friend.

Entry 188

I got into my first argument with the director.

We were in the Biological Lab, and I asked one of the techs there if they had ever used the genetic replication tools to clone human tissues. The director said no, and they never would. I asked why, and, of all things, he went on about "god's will" and all that stuff. I never would have figured him out for a zealot. I replied they didn't have to clone a whole person, but could maybe clone organs to transplant, nerve or stem cells, but he said even that would be "an affront to the lord". Oh, spare me! I shot back how, yes, Jesus would be very proud of him when he works testing explosives and rifles and chemical weapons on cowering, condemned prisoners, as bad as anything the Nazis did. By the look on his face, I must have hit a hypocritical nerve. He stormed out, and for a second looked like he might shove me, but Hadie made him think twice."

Slowly, the device was lowered from Haydee's face. Taking a moment to read through it all had given her some peace of mind, a minute or so to take her mind off the current problems, but that didn't change the outcome of what was to come after.

She suspected the least, but hoped for the most. In turn, all that was offered to her were little tidbits of information that only vaguely pieced together the greater existence of this place, even at best. This was not what she had hoped, however, since she would have much preferred to find something to help aid the humans' still fragile state.

"So. . . did you find anything useful?" And trailing her head over, Haydee stared him down. Strangely, despite how easily sarcastic his inquiry could have been, she found it hard to believe he didn't mean them in earnest. His face may have lacked a smile, but they lacked a brow also, lacked a hint of contempt over. . . perhaps anything. No sense of ambivalence about him, his face as obvious a window into his emotions as it could. They were not positive feelings, but she at least knew, by all that they had been through, he was not the kind of person to make mockery of others. Especially upon herself.

Placing the pad back directly where it first laid, Haydee only gave the slightest nod to him in return, being as much as she could muster right now, before moving themselves on.

Continuing forth; she could not help but imagine the walls repeating as they walked onward. The same blank walls seemed more choking to the unbreathing one than they usually did, and why she could not place a finger on it. Was it the near silent ambience, the lack of threats forcing her to stay on edge, or perhaps the sudden unexpected revelation that preceding them that left a hanging weight hovering over them, dribbling down little by little as if taunting them with its presence. Shaking her head to herself, Haydee did not wish to be mocked by these reminders of inadequate aid, and instantly did she silently searched through her mental database to find How to comfort a frightened human.

Let's see. . . dissuade pressuring them; certainly something she had not tried to do anyway. Trying to understand their problems; she doubted there was any other way he was experiencing his problems that she already didn't, or couldn't, understand. Hugs; providing physical comfort via a warm gesture? Doubtful, she was not a human, such an action would not make sense for her cold body, anyway. Even if it looked appealing, for the human's sake, she could not see why it would help him at this time from a being such as her.

Inwardly sighing, Haydee stopped looking as she regained her focus on the forward. In the least, Dale's problems were only on his mental state, and not something related to his physical body as well. That would make things much harder; seeing him injured, body oozing out rivers of-

Blood.

Crimson stains pooled on the floor.

The moment Haydee caught sight of the red plashes, tiny droplets of unambiguous origin, dribbled along the hallway Haydee immediately froze in place. Trailing all across the floor in miniature puddles, from one way onto the next out of sight from her straight hallway, the sudden sight of seeing the droplets sprung her body to be on high alert as her grip on the human only tightened. The gynoid did not see his reaction, nor did he seem to utter a peep, which she found more thankful as the ensuing moments that followed were shrouded over by utter silence.

Keeping back, her over hand hovering over her holster, Haydee's pure focus was attained only onto the hallway leading off from this one. Waiting, making no move, Haydee just stood there, watching with high interest the sight of something coming forth, anything that would explain the situation presented to her.

But by the end of a solid moment thereafter, no change had occurred, and with slow and steady steps Haydee moved towards the dribbles of perceived blood. Her hand did not hover away from her holster, nor did she fully contain her focus on the ruby ripples itself, as she made sure to keep a firm check-up on the non-injured one beside her, but Haydee still ushered them onward to the unexpected trail.

For why this existed at all was not a guess she would like to come to a conclusion on, even when she knew she'd likely have to. The gynoid's hand that hovered over the pistol began to quiver ever more with every passing step. Her audio sensors still peaking to forward, Haydee's trudge was met with as much anticipation as it did dread, her worries only tightening up by every clank of her boots. The closer she got; the further her mind began to burn at the fears of what may happen to come.

Yet she continued regardless. The blood seemed far too much for a simple prick, and for something of the supposed calibre to appear was not by a safe appearance. By what, she had yet to figure out, but it was a danger nonetheless, that she knew entirely for. And she could not let it slip her by. No matter how dangerous. . . and how close it may be. Because in a state of known vulnerability Haydee ducked her head forward, into the hallway, and looked out to see what may very well lay in waiting.

Nothing came forth, thankfully. Nothing sprung upon her, scaring her and Dale and leaving him a far worse state than what he already is in. With the problem not presented to her now, her immediate attention was contracted to look closer onto the red organic paint splattering the floor. There was much to investigate, and Haydee was prepared to figure out all there was.

Kneeling down, albeit letting her gripped hand stay upright to not force the human down with her, Haydee let her other hand trailed closer and dip a finger onto the closest bead of liquid rose.

Relatively fresh, having already congealed, but not fully dried. More than a few hours, but not even a full day has passed. So likely, the originator could still be nearby. Taking a closer examination, she determined something else, some impressions by the blood appeared to have come about by pressure being applied, i.e. it had likely been stepped on. Analyzing the patterns, Haydee looked to her left, to where she believed the trail had originated from, but found only the path of droplets leading around a corner to a place she did not know. So instead she let her head trail onto her right, to where the bloodied route was leading to, and found where the path of rose now led: down the hallway, only to stop and make a turn into, and onto, a closed door.

Tentatively, Haydee rose up, her face not once leering away from that bloodied door. Her hand instinctively hovered back over the pistol's grip, while the other offered light pressure in self-assurance he was still right there with her. For what happened here she cannot make guesses that weren't sparse in nature. That said, she did not believe for a moment all was safe. Danger must have occurred here at some point, and may very well still be hanging around. And if it were, it was to be her duty, for his sake, to find and destroy it, lest it come after him in return. Holding his hand dearly, Haydee led them forward, along the wall so he never had to step his shoeless soles on the crimson splotches.

Keeping her ears alert just as much as her eyes, Haydee began to audibly hear ragged sounds coming from the suspicious entryway. Even when facing it right in front, the frayed noises, labored wheezing, were still only muffled, only able to be heard by the lack of any background noises present. Fully staring the door down in front, she found it a little surprising to see not only the red ooze coating the door, but also splotches of off-white gunk trying to paint it dirty. She instantly knew what it was; synthetic blood. More precisely, a liquid used commonly to keep synthetic muscular systems working at maximum capacity, muscular systems not unlike her own.

That only furthered her worries for what was to be found inside, since now there was some speculation that an advanced machine was part of the danger somehow. No longer wishing to be left in the dark, Haydee quickly pulled up her firearm as she prepared to go inside.

Alone. Turning to her organic companion, she motioned for him to stay. He had suffered enough trauma for one day, and did not wish for him to meet anything more. Quite the opposite. Granted, she hated the idea of leaving him alone, but for the moment all seemed safe, nothing present to offer him any major issues. She had him follow only when she found it to be safe; or she made it so.

"If you want me to. Not like I have anywhere important to be." She nodded, albeit immediately after fearing she should have handled her reaction slightly better. But looking back forward, gun in hand, Haydee knew to focus her preparations on the way ongoing. Grasping at the handle, Haydee waved her finger over the trigger as she entered on through.

---

Upon her first steps in, Haydee did not let down her guard even when she saw what was presented in full to her; a door and nothing else. More precisely, a door but a short few steps away. though closed off, but the gynoid made no motion to quickly reach for the next handle and charge it open; as she already knew what was to follow.

Gas erupted into the chamber, the white fog surrounding her and enclosing itself all around her form. But the machine did not flinch; the mist would not affect her, especially when she knew it was coming. And knowing she had to wait until the door was unlocked, Haydee stayed still. Unmoving, unspeaking, she simply waited, gun still primed in hand, for the inevitable to occur.

For a moment, her mind lingered to how the human was feeling currently. Alone, beside drops of life-necessary liquid, the mind still strained by the revelations they had witnessed. The question that had no answers. Thinking over on this, she lightly hoped that entering the next place would entail some resolution for the man. If at least. . . something that would ease his mind. In the least.

The door now became unlocked, and holding her pistol at the ready her other hand reached and gripped the handle. Turning it slowly, her audible sensors picking up the sounds of beeping machinery just a skip away, she pried open the door as the fog rushed out the open crevice. With her trigger finger itching, the gynoid pushed forward without delay, breaking open the door in almost a slam as the fog before her parted, her muscles tensed, and Haydee brought forward her firearm as she immediately surveyed exactly what horrors this room would present to her. She breached in, bursting through the clearing fog and steadied her firearm, she looked, she listened, she heard-

". . . You made it. . . " The feeble, weak announcement hoarsely called once the head slowly turned to her direction.

Upon the moment her sharpened, prepared sight caught the vision right a few steps away, her entire being froze with the power of a sudden ice age. She just stood there, her body not making an inch of movement as her mind tried to comprehend what there was to regard here. Well, in a sense that was to be an immediate lie, as her body did in fact move: her shoulders slumped down, her arms dropped, and her fingers could not hold onto weight anymore as her only weapon clanged to the ground with an unceremonious drop, completely ignored by the gynoid. All her body was able to do was stare in scared astonishment at what she was witnessing before her.

"I knew you would. . . " His breath sounded ragged, not helped by the tube coming into his nose. He sounded in pain, in anguish over how much damage had taken, in innocent elation in seeing herself appear to him. . . in a voice that sounded exactly like someone she knew.

Because, laid out in front of her within the center of this closed room, sprayed atop a operating table, blood soaking onto anything it dripped over, many wires and tubes attached to the person via a large machine in backdrop, spoke out a figure that looked to her with a smile she had grown steadily accustomed to:

It was Dale. A Dale. Another Dale, not hers but. . . Dale. . .

One in pain, one that had obviously sustained major injuries, something she quickly noted with a shiver as it was laid bare to witness right in front of her eyes. As she looked him over, perhaps the only thing she could do at this one moment, her innate scanners made her horrified in revealing what kind of damage he endured. If it wasn't for the large machine standing behind him, one that detected when his vitals would start to drop and adjust accordingly if she had to note, he would likely not have survived for this long. Just. . . what caused his suffering? What was he doing here like this?

Erratic life signs, bloodied trail leading here, strapped to this table like a slab. She didn't. . . what was she supposed to do?

To say? To pronounce and give questions for? What was she. . . supposed to say?

She took a step closer to him. Innately, she felt to be as close to him as possible, even though he. . . wasn't the same Dale. But he looked so similar, acted so calmly, it was like Dale, too much like Dale, to the point of seeing his open wound so up close. . . began to make her tremble. The lower half of his body, or what was left of it, was covered over by a transparent sheet, sealing off his chest. But in turn this allowed her to see the major damage he had sustained in full. Tubes ran into him, into his arteries and veins, going through where his stomach would have been. The edges of his wounds were red, raw and visible to her disturbed sight. He lacked an arm as well, holding only a stump where it used to be, the major damage covered over by thick, oozing dressing. While he looked to the rattled machine in slow silence, he could only do so with mismatched eyes, one so white it looked bleached.

Yet all this undeniably innate changes didn't cover over what he was; It was Dale, but it was not-but so alike she. . . she did not know how to process this.

"I bet I look. . . right funny, attached up like this." And the way he spoke as well! He sounded so sweet and kind, so innocent, like her Dale. Was she shaking right now? She was shaking, she was hoping - needing to just. . . hold him. Hold him close, tell him everything was going to be fine, even if that had to be a lie.

It shouldn't. No, it should never have to be. He did not deserve this. Surely, one like him deserved none of this anguish and suffering, torment and ridicule. He was a kind man, a fair one, deserved the world, not chained down in here. He was not meant to be told lies, as only the truth of sweet matters should befall him. He. . . was instead simply deteriorating before her eyes. In ways she had no hand in fixing.

"O. . . ver there." Feebly, a trembling hand just barely managed to hover above the table long enough for a finger to point out, before dropping back down as the rest of his strength was sapped so unjustifiably. "You'll find it. . . the keycard. You'll need it. . . if you want to escape from here with him. . ." Though she had looked to where he pointed, his quivering voice telling her what was truly necessary for them to leave, even hearing about an exit did not fill her with usual jubilation. "Beware. . . of the blue door. Be careful. . . when approaching it. Lest you want to. . . end up like me." She nodded, even when not knowing what he was warning about.

His body suddenly jerked! The machine behind him had whirred to life, sending important fluids into his body to keep him alive for a stretch longer. She shook on sight, even more so than suffering one before her. He coughed, sputtered out mucus and bile as she could see his body almost fight the life-saving injections that were forcibly travelling through him.

"Please." He gagged out, forcing his head up to look directly into Haydee's visor. "Protect him. He. . . needs his best friend." Gently her hands came forward. She did not answer him with words, but comfort: One to his hand, the other to his head. Yet those touches were as sensitive as she could allow it:

She was scared. Scared of breaking and hurting him, the one so fragile and delicate a breath could topple him over. Even as her fingers caressed over his, he felt so weak, so cold and pale. Barely alive, yet almost perfectly like the hand she had grown accustomed to holding. She nodded. Somehow, knowingly perfectly well what he was referring to.

"Good. . . Good. . . " Whatever strength he was using to lift his head up faded as he lowered himself back onto the table, breathing out a quiet sigh as his eyes drifted from her to the bright ceiling above, before closing them shut. "I'm glad that. . . in the end, I could say one last thing to you. Then please, Haydee. . . set me free."

She instantly knew what he was talking about; and she hated to even think about going there. Even more in knowing what its meaning was so quickly. With the way that he is, in pain, unlikely to last even another hour, she knew what he wanted, in a way, what was only necessary for him as of now. What he needed. But. . . Haydee did not know if she truly could do through with it.

Her eyes may have drifted to the machine, her gaze on the deactivation button, but the heavy weight on her arms disallowed her the strength to reach it. Her whole body felt like it weighed tons. She looked back, but there was no strength to offer. His mind was made up, and she understood perfectly why. But that didn't change how she hesitated even after his fair nod to her. She. . . couldn't be the one to kill him, could she? It. . . was not her place to-

"Please . . . let me be with MY Haydee! . . . I know. . . this is a lot to ask of you, but. . . I'll always know, deep down, that you'll. . . always want what's best for me. To end my suffering. . . as quickly as you can find possible. . . Only you can save me now." Shaking, Haydee tepidly nodded. There was nothing more she could do; and she knew it. As obvious as a stain on glass, everything else was transparent for her to see. All that needed to be done; no matter how much she refused to want it. So gently, even as she began to regret her climatic decision, the gynoid moved herself closer to him. With one hand, she gripped his feeble hand in hers, feeling, even so weakly, his fingers attempt to grasp at hers. His grip so ailing, her mere quivering was outputting what little power he displayed onto her.

Holding him close, holding him dearly, Haydee stared with hidden bile at the off button to the huge machine keeping him going. For how long, she refuses to elaborate on, as even though it kept him alive for this long, he deserves to have his suffering end. A simple flick of her fingers was all it would take. An effort so easy even a pull of her trigger would still need more. All it would take was. . . a force so basic and puny to end a life so undeserved of this hell.

She hated it. Hated being the one to end him, hated seeing him like this, hated him become so frail. Hated this place, hated near-everything found within. Hated so much. . . but not him. He deserves no hate, only care, only concern, only. . . one that would hold him to show at least one person, even one that only one a broad definition of that word at best, was there for his final moments. And she would do just that.

The press on the button was done, without her shaking hand managing to prolong the inevitable. Despite dire consequence that would follow, the simple act was committed with such a minor force that was a flick of her finger. The machine, as huge and incredible of a device it could be, was turned off with only the simplest of actions. It was done. The machine no longer functioned for him, no longer keeping him forcibly alive; and all that was left to do now was wait until his final breath was undertaken. A sentence so disgusting she almost kicked herself for thinking it.

But she was not letting him go so pathetically. With the same hand that finalized his fate, Haydee tucked it under his head, under that soft tuft of hair she had grown accustomed to liking, and brought it up, gently pulling his cheek to her torso; before she began to rock him. Like a summer breeze on a cool ocean, she swayed back and forth with him, like a hammock between tow palms trees. A pretty picture, and not a bad one one could mull over during their final moments. Stroking his hair, she let him physically know she was right there with him, that she would be here for him when no others would.

She wished she could speak. Had lips to say - had lips to kiss him goodbye. Had a mouth to offer him one final form of care, to announce he was somebody. To proclaim his life matters. Always did, always would. Always should have.

"Poor thing. She didn't deserve this." Agreed. He didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve to die this way, didn't deserve to be in pain and agony. Such simple words held perfect meaning here. The only statement that spoke of how unfair life had treated this one. Ironic; that it was a Dale that spoke this - or perfectly aligned with his train of thought.

He jerked, gagged even, spilling out excess mucus that stained her pristine faceplate. She made no effort to remove it, it was unimportant. Almost everything was unimportant, save for the moment of her holding him close, safe in her arms, and his fear and pain eased by her mere presence, comfortable as possible in her hands. Like a baby kitten, she held a beautiful living thing in her arms; only to feel its life slipping away, and be powerless to stop it. She. . . her hands began to tremble even worse.

"Haydee. . ." All her motions halted as the tiny whisper burst out the complete silence of this operating room. "I know. . . you wished to save me, and I am thankful you would have, but my death. . . will just be one of many. None of which you should see any personal. . . fault in. No blame could ever be. . . brought upon for you. So please, listen to the final words of this fool; save your him; your Dale. Promise me. . . you will save yours, as my Haydee tried with me. Triumph where. . . . I failed her. . . "

She would. Even if it means her body is turned to shreds, her system crushed asunder and her memories of him were to be erased forever; she would save him. Her Dale.

"I'm glad. . . " To her shock, the lightest of smiles was drawn over his face. Even with death approaching, he still put on a brave face for himself. His body so fragile, his whole form in unimaginable pain; yet he still let a glint of his happiness shine through. "Thank you. . . Haydee. . . I love you. . . "

. . .

. . .

. . . Ninety seconds. That's how long it took. That was how long he lived for.

But it was not his staggered breathing stopping that let her know, neither was it the machines, but it was his weak hand that somehow mustered up enough strength to pull out to reach for; only for it to slip through and drop onto the table, that told her his final breath had been taken. And that was only a few seconds after the fact did she realise what had happened, her body confused by the simple touch no longer applying on her own informing her what was wrong.

Her shaking did not cease. Rather, if anything, they worsened. Her fingers twitched, knees convulsed, and her head arched forward as the room fell silent. Her entire body slumped, barely managing to keep her upright as her mind only thought of his last words; of her name. The name continued to repeat, to be spoken in that soft gentle voice of the human she had grown to care for, grown to be fond, one that made this dreadful dimension be filled somehow with some semblance of light.

And then it stopped. She stopped. For a moment she froze, not so much as a shiver emanated through her; until she arched her head slowly back up. And one time, for a final time, looked down onto the unflinching, lifeless, yet still smiling face of the one that didn't die alone and unloved in this atrocious place. She could give so little, and even less now, but that did not mean she had nothing to offer.

Pulling her head down, she touched her faceplate against his forehead; the final gift she could give him before she gently let his eyelids flutter close, and calmly laid his head back down on the table as she moved it away. Carefully, she pulled the covers over his form watching his closed, ironically-smiling face be completely covered up by the white sheet. With that, all she could do was done, as the room was awash with silence. That was that then.

All was completed. She did all she could do, not as much as he deserved, but more than he would have gotten alone. She. . . could leave now.

She had to.

But such a logical statement did not ease her footing. Even after going through so much, her legs jiggled, wobbling almost, as if refusing to stay solid, yet still she moved. Her hand, which had yet to let go of the sheet, slowly slithered away, thankfully not gripped hard enough to send the covering flying, and turned to face the door. The exit. They way out of this place, that, in turn would mean, leaving the now deceased one alone. For. . . ever.

Slowly, she reached for the keycard. This was what he wanted to give her, a reminder his death wasn't for nothing. No, that was not how to put it: rather it was more simply his death was unnecessary, yet before his passing he was able to gift to her a useful tool, in the hopes a fate was not eventually shared. Tentatively, she looked it over, looked at the shine, almost seething upon the realisation that if this thing did not exist he may not have suffered such a turn. She placed it away, unable to stare at its being any longer.

She trudged forward, but her pace was equivalent to being stuck in deep mud, as if a swamp had swallowed up this overly pristine room. Her boots clanked forward, each step echoing off this room and forcing her to remember only she could make noise here. Alone she now was.

Yet no matter how many times her head kept repeating the sight of that one, his voice, his smile, his demeanour, it didn't change the fact he was still gone, never to return. Never to be held in her arms again. Each step she made only seemed to get heavier, each move of her legs kept getting harder, they just. . . didn't want to leave him like this.

A tap on her shoe, followed by a short scuffle over the floor, brought her mind back to where she was. Being the only noise made here that wasn't by her own doing, Haydee's leg stopped mid move as her once unfocused lenses peered down to see what she had happened to touch.

It was a pistol. Her pistol. One she hadn't realized she even dropped until now. For a moment, Haydee realized her mind wasn't even thinking about what she was doing, where she was going. What she was meant to do. Even when she bent down to grab, holding the firearm in her hand, Haydee hesitated to pull it up with her.

It was a weapon, a device, an item meant to inflict harm and damage onto another person. It was to kill, to main and hurt, to do nothing more than cause suffering to another individual for purposes likely more selfish than reasonable. It was an armament that could end a life, a lot of lives, if the hands that utilised it did so with malicious intent.

But. . . it was also a weapon to save. To protect, to spare an ongoing tragedy from continuing for longer than should be. It was a device that could also, in the right hands, protect a life countless times over if the user inclined herself for doing so.

To stop another death from occurring.

Haydee holstered the weapon away, and staring up front, trudged forward into the door. Ready to leave, to return, to. . . let him now peacefully rest. Grabbing at the open door, Haydee walked in, closing it behind her as she grasped at the handle of the exit.

And left.

---

The door opened up for the bright light assaulted her form. She didn't seem to care, and not simply because her eyes didn't take pain from the unexpected aggression. Deep inside her, the pang she felt; a rooted, burning, clambering anguish that threatened to gnaw her from the inside out was the only thing she could coherently identify in that very singular moment. To leave him, though no longer living, he was still someone who did not deserve such a fate and be left there without any human to hear his goodbye ate at her entire being.

He was dead, he could not be saved, and she should not once believe there was a chance she could. But yet: that repeat of logical, genuine reasoning saved nothing. Didn't save the human, nor did it save her from trudging out like her servo's were rusting up. It wasn't constructive, didn't turn her away from this lethargic state, it. . . didn't help.

When the door was closed behind, even the sound of it snapping close did not break her slumbering focus. No matter what she did, all her attention, all her mindset could think of was on the fate of the one whose life she let go. Even peacefully, even on his own terms, his death still seemed unnecessary, wrong, unbecoming for one as gentle and soothing as him.

True, she may now have known him for very long - that was not something she could ever discount - but his death still lingered on her mind, over her head, trailing behind her like some preposterous curse. But there was something endearing she found about him; about his attitude, his voice, his tone. . .

"Haydee, you're back! Did you find anything?"

All of it; exactly the same as the Dale before her. Despite all her grievous hanging above her, the smooth, gentle call of the one she walked out to see, brought her stare away from the ground, away from the dribbles of blood below that no longer served a function, and up to stare into the face of a man she had seen die in her arms only a moment before.

The same gentle face. The same lovely voice. The same soft. . . affectionate expressions. . . same dying state befall him too-

". . . Did you find a person?"

She lunged.

Her hands, clenched fingers and trembling fists, moved without warning, without even care, akin to a predator ambushing its prey. Like a Great White Shark, her body slammed onto the unexpected human. Like an Anaconda, her arms coiled all the way around him. Like a Saltwater Crocodile, she forced him into a movement out of his own influence. And like all weak prey, all Dale could do was stand there and take the sudden assault on himself without knowledge of what to do, unable to fight back. . .

Against this Woman's hug.

Dale said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there and watched, and felt, the lady's body pressing into him as she pushed him into hers, wrapping him up tenderly in her arms and rocking his smaller body back and forth in her tight limbs. And for a moment, a good solid number of prolonged seconds longer, nothing seemed to change. She just stood there, swaying the man's body to and fro, feeling his soft features be pushed into her torso.

Gently, without even thinking of it, a hand of hers came up and grasped around his head. Never using an ounce of strength to it at all, Haydee's hand just simply massaged over his cranium, feeling the soft hairs and appreciating just how full of life each strand contains. Each single, solitary flick of hair, meaningless on its own, all together formed the basis of a full lovely set of hair, so warm and comfy, like velvet in between her fingers. They belonged to Dale, to the one who's life mattered.

To the one who would not disappear in her arms. Yes, her hug - her tender, careful clasp of herself wrapped around him was ensured with logical reasoning. The safest place for the human is to be right by her side, the safest of all was actually right up against her. Her own arms coiled around to deny the chance of him slipping away, out of her clutches and into any danger. She rocked him back and forth to ensure he in turn was comfortable, relaxed and happy. And her hand that was currently swimming through his ocean of brown follicles was presently accomplished to. . . to guarantee that her Dale would not have such a fate befall him too. . .

Never.

All the while, on the other side the human never truly understood what was going on. To feel her presence so close, her soft arms pushing into her form, her warmth embracing his, Dale's own hands, owns that were shakily rising upwards to give some visual aid over his question - now only stood there, halfway up and unable to figure out where they should go now faced with the realisation of what Haydee was doing.

For a fleeting second only. Because when the following moment had passed: Haydee found a set of arms now wrapping around her own form. Tightly too, as if he too in turn knew where the safest place for himself was meant to be. Same went for his head, as that also clenched against her, his cheek pushing into her body as he seemed to relax, letting his weight fall on her.

For a while, a moment only so long, neither really noticed that time had passed them by. A minute, and hour, the two just stood there for an uncertain amount of time, doing little else but relishing the comfort of the other. Neither really cared much about the outside world, if it could even be called a world, because only inside this cold, unfeeling place they called the only world they knew, this warmth of an oasis was but the shared heat of the other, soothing their minds and bodies, and making them think over nothing at all, not even escaping from this hole. . .

Slowly, Haydee's head travelled upwards. No longer focusing on the human, she instead looked forward to a locked door opposite the one before, albeit her interest was never on the blocked-off entrance. Rather, her stare was just away, lost in mild rambling thoughts, ones that lead to her attaining the realisation she cannot keep her vow just by simply standing here and holding the human close. No, they had to leave, and to start off she had to unfasten her hands away from the human first.

She didn't want to, but she would not go back on her promise. So nodding to no one, Haydee slowly grabbed at the human's waist and gradually pulled him away from her, akin to how one was to do to a band-aid. She, strangely, knew that if she stopped, for just one second, she'd forcibly pull the man back into her like they both were thick glue. She wouldn't let that happen, even if it meant looking away and refusing to focus on the man's face. She could not let herself retain her attachment to him right now, his place was meant to be somewhere, and certainly not in her arms forever, as. . . logically sound that would be. They needed to move, and with a few taps on his head followed by a nod to show he had. . . done well by not dying before her, she summarized, she turned on the spot, looked to where their forward was meant to go and began to march with purpose with every step, ushering the human to follow.

Yes, forward, to safety, to where. . . Dale would eventually leave him, but it was for his own good that he encounters a grand shelter. It was meant to be, and she must understand that eventuality with-

"Haydee." Her form stopped in place the moment he heard her name be rang out. It was gentle, calm, but it was because of this that she immediately paused all movement, and to look back and see him looking at her with concern on his face.

"Is. . . everything alright?" She. . . wasn't quite sure the best response to that. "Did something happen? You acting a little off, was it because of-" The moment his hand pulled up, aiming to latch onto the bloodied door just a step away, did the gynoid almost dive at him. Before his next word could be uttered, Dale found a robotic arm suddenly latched on his wrist. The grip that was set upon him did not hurt, but the powerful grasp she had ensured he would not be moving another inch towards that door.

Strong enough for her to realise how shocking it must have been to him. She had her reasons for stopping, genuine reasons, his still likely fragile mental state may not be able to bear the tragedies that laid within; but that doesn't justify shocking him like so, especially at his current mindset. She. . . she had to make sure he never looks inside, for his own benefit, but she sees that it must also be done with an apology to him, a way to let him know he wasn't at fault for wanting to see what was inside. . .

That was it! Haydee quickly reached around with her other hand and pulled something out from her backpack, something freshly caught, and swiftly placed it onto the human's outreaching hand. When his hands caught the item, she gently let him go, reaching back while he in turn pulled the new object up to his face.

"Oh it's. . . it's another keycard." Haydee nodded, perhaps too feverishly. "That's. . . great. I. . . guess I didn't even know we needed this." Well, supposed neither did she, but those by the other still haunted her, so at least she knew this was a necessity. "I'm guessing you want me to keep this?" She nodded, quickly ushering him back along, albeit this time with a hold of her arm around his back. It was hard for her to forget the droplets of freshly cut blood below both their feet.

"A-alright then." He looked to be no longer interested in that door, which instantly lifted a heavy weight on her shoulder. Tapping him with her own outstretched arm, she urged him to continue, and when he nodded and began to make steps, in turn she was quick to follow, acknowledging she had made the right decision. The keycard was obviously meant for a Dale, at least.

Walking down the hall, Dale right beside her as he should always be when possible, it did not escape her how the trail of blood began to thicken with every step. Ensuring the bare feet of the one beside her was not to step on any blotches, Haydee's inspecting mind made mental note how the droplets became more like puddles the further they went on. The gynoid instantly knew something; she was not going to like the origin of that tragedy.

Just thinking about it puts her on edge. Made her anxious. made her fret: made her mind make sure no such fate repeats with her Dale. Knowing that, once they readied the corner the woman's body was placed on high alert as her body tensed up, fingers almost trembling with trepidation as the exploration crew that was them turned the corner to see-

Slashers!

Instantly Haydee both reached for her pistol and reached for the human, grabbing him quickly as her hand hovered right over the grip. . . but did not touch. Her reactions was so instantaneous that it took a mere second after for her to realise the danger presented here was more based on past events than actual current values; as the robotscould not pose a true threat to them.

The two bodies of mechanical foes were laid out on the floor and against the floor, their lenses shattered and broken, bodies wrecked from obvious bullet holes. Whatever came by here did so with a vengeance, having blasted them to death without any chance of mercy. Practically akin to what she herself would have done, if not for the action of violence having already been utilized.

Granted, the gynoid knew to still be careful - she was not interested in making the same mistake twice - so even though she still made headway onward, she made sure to keep a close eye on the pair as they passed on by. Staring down to their forms, they looked nary interested nor able to stand back on their two thin legs and try to commit acts of hate again. Yet still, the edging note they could rise again would not be lost with Haydee's memories still intact. The last thing either needs right now is a repeat of that moment.

"Haydee, look - a gun!" Looking to where he suddenly pointed, the female swiftly picked up the pistol laying right by the machine's side and held it aloft. Strange, she thought, how this one happened to be by itself. Compared to the one before, this one looked to be simply thrown away with as much care as an empty magazine. Even more so, it looked to be another upgraded version like her own, sights and all.

"Is it useful to you?" Sadly, Haydee simply shook her head in return when she grasped it. Saying it was thrown down like she did happened to make for a perfect metaphor - the gun was completely empty, no magazine inside at all. Dropping it like a stone, Haydee mildly saw the humour of it being placed right by a Slasher; not as if these machines had the capabilities to use the gun anyway.

Actually, upon realising what she said the gynoid took a strong glance towards the robots slashing arms, and found both pairs to be clean from blood. Seeing that, she at least knew now these machines were likely not the ones at fault for the others demise. Though, thinking over that remark did not scrub away her edge. Not wanting to keep here much longer, Haydee urged them both to get going.

The blood splatters only grew, the only trail leading onward deepened as the duo's, or at least Haydee's, tense nature only worsened by every growing second. Her concern only deepened, not helped by the sight of white blotches beginning to litter the floor as well. Same as before, she knew what these cream-coloured pools were artificially made for, though to what end they were doing out here in the open was currently lost on her. That note, however, did not dissuade her from keeping up her guard. No, that understanding only made her body's sense of awareness tighten with every step.

She kept her pistol holstered for the moment for the reason of keeping Dale's mental state sane: if her forearm was to be drawn, then in turn Dale could have drawn the conclusion dangers were swiftly about, the to draw his weakened state back into a breaking point. For the moment, she kept her fingers simply hovered over the grip, staying on alert, as she led the way on for them both. She knew to keep them both moving, both staying alert, both. . .

To stop once they saw another ceased Haydee sat down on the floor before them.

Her body slouched against the wall, her head facing towards the hallway that went on, the gynoid simply sat their in dead silence, as if now nothing more than macabre decoration for this otherwise bland and dry set of walls. However, what had caused the duo in unison to stop and pause was not merely the sight of another non-functioning machine only, but largely the state she was left in: completely tattered in pools of crimson blood. Staining her armoured vest, coating her legs in the dried rose, her back was etched up to the wall while she sat down on the cold tiles. Some of the blood even managed to stain her faceplate, right above the chin, as if one went to-

"Please . . . let me be with MY Haydee!"

. . . She understood it now; understood why the trail of dotted fluid surrounded her. Understood where the white ooze had originated from - the gash in the models design, the same model as her to boot, that sliced up across the chest. Understood why she let herself lay out here, away, to not let her best friend see her take her final moments. Understood. . . that it is unfair that every pair had the right to live only to be dashed so fruitless. It. . . it made her fisted hands tremble. . .

But. . . she would not get angry. Not in the presence of this model.

"H. . . Haydee? Wh-what do you think happ-" A comforting hand touched upon his shoulder, silencing his tepid voice with but a stoic stare. She let up a finger, announcing she was the one to make a move, before she calmly pulled him back so she could stand before the deceased other.

Looking her down, Haydee could not help but say she looked so. . .peaceful. The huge gash across her torso, so deep and wide she would have partially destroyed the instant she suffered the wound. Should have been a fatal blow to her kind, even for one as better built as her more advanced model, and yet she managed to force herself up and bring the other to safety; as if to say his life meant more than hers. The way she sat, hands to the side, head tilted up to the wall, it was clear to the alive one she knew when her body would eventually fail her, and chose to let it come on her own terms. Very much. . . very much like another she had met.

Perhaps, for the first time, this model had lied to Dale, reassuring him she was to return with help, only to know it was a pointless and fruitless endeavour. Did she even know her Dale was not going to live long, or did she. . . refuse to believe his life was to be taken so unfairly. Either way, she at least didn't want him to see her life drain before his own fragile, weak eyes.

And even with death approaching, this one still used up what little strength she would have had left to write "PROTECT HIM" across the wall in a mix of his blood and her own. How very bizarrely lurid yet. . . perhaps ironically, fitting, if one was to look at it in a very non-methodical way. A stain of gross use, written to symbolize a desire to care for another.

She will. Taking to her knee and placing a hand on the deceased ones shoulder, looking her down as she could not hide thinking about the fact she tried her hardest, she gave the lifeless one a gentle few pats as she nodded to the model. For what she had lost, for what she had tried to save, Haydee greatly believed it was not to be in vain. As indeed, did this one know she was not to be the last; nor was her Dale either.

Death is always the truest end, the finale, the climax of a life's journey. . . but perhaps, even if just completely illogical to say, the two could be together even after that.

For a final time, Haydee nodded, knowing her 'sister's' end had come, but in doing so gave a beginning to another; a journey she had promised she'd see through until the end. Rising back up, Haydee made a turn and stare, a look onward, and made an unwavering glance towards their next destination, the end of the hallway.

Just a small stretch away twenty feet at most, forcing them to simply walk over an almost as long stretch of grates along the way, was a closed blue door with an obvious pad beside it. Nothing more, nothing less, at least form what she could see from where she stood.

"Beware. . . of the blue door." The weak voice suddenly echoed in her mind, triggering her senses back on high alert as she reached out for Dale's hand. Once he returned the gesture, Haydee gripped the man's hand with an almost audible crunch before she stood back up and reached her other arm over to her gun, before making tepid steps forward.

Her gate once her boots hit the grating could be described perfectly as 'suspicious'. Tentative would work as well, as her step on was done so with cautious, sceptical looks. Up and down, from the ceiling to the grating underneath her soles, to the door itself and everything it could hold, she made sure her steps were ready to jump in any and every direction if required. That noted, every step she made heralded no change: The room stayed as dead silent as she could make it be, and not an ounce of movement seemed to come from anywhere except what the duo was making. Yet every step also took Haydee's forged tension and ramped it up by every moment coming. She would not forget his warning, and took to heart his genuine care about them both.

It was never lost what the two where heading towards. The Haydee before, a replica of the same make as hers, was severely injured in ways she could only guess over. She was no different , in that regard, and anything that would cause such damage to that gynoid could very well do the same to her.

With that notion vibrating around her headset, Haydee moved forward with a noticeable shake about her form. Even once they hit the front of the door, the huge metal thing staring them down face-to-face, Haydee's tension did not cease in the slightest. By that point she knew she was visibly trembling, her entire artificial muscular system on high alert for whatever dangers may come, for whatever problem they will need to face and overcome it as she promised the other she would.

"I guess I'll just. . . pop the keycard in then. . ." Dale uncertainly asked as his eyes had trouble leaving the gynoids somewhat shaky form. As he went, beginning his attempt at unlocking the door with his keycard, Haydee's vision still wandered. She couldn't halt that creeping uncertainty of foul play afoot here, yet to her discretion she couldn't grasp it either. Something seemed off, seemed odd. She had zero reason to believe his warnings were but an overestimation, but still the lack of dangers present felt to unsettle her more than if she might have seen any. Though she watched him take the keycard out of his backpack, her main focus lied on everything about her, even when nothing seemed out of place.

No, there had to be something, anything that showed her the true danger lied here over these black gratings of a footing. . . gratings that, as she let her boot nudge slightly away, allowed her to see droplets of dried blood still attach to the surface. Blood that, as she checked, did not appear on the small section of tiles that stood before the door itself. As if. . . the other two did not have the chance to make it through until after.

Something suddenly bit into her, gnawing away as her worries began to grow and pulsate. Looking to the human beside her, still checking him over, her worries only germinated ever more as she noticed him starting to place the keycard into the slot. She couldn't place it on why her worries were gestating like they were as she stared, as she watched him slot the card in, watched his arm start to swing down which paved the way for her to see a tiny glint of light hit a thin crack in the wall, one that she observed to be at approximately chest height. . .

A buzz noise was heard as the pad accepted his card.

Then she realised.

"The door's unlocke-" With all the might Haydee could muster she immediately grabbed at the human's body and slammed them both to the floor with a yank, hitting the grating with a thud so hard it knocked the wind right out of him. For a moment, neither dared to move, both so likely to be feeling the same sense of fear about by the sudden jolt to the grating. However, once both sets of sights managed to finally look upwards, a trail led with the speed of marching ants, and see above them, what suddenly casting a shadow over them both was fundamentally clear why the woman's reason for doing so was done as swift it was.

Because standing right over the two, staring down with unseen ill-content, and stained with splashes of red did the two see a pair of thin, large long blades stay above their forms. The two said nothing, made no noise, not even twitch as they could only stare at the almost death looming right over them. He blinked for barely a few times, eyes always kept quite wide while his body quivered with shock while she stayed low, unflinching, and feeling a sense of relief slowly washed over her as she remembered to stay thankful for what the clone had spoken out in his final moments.

Alongside the sound of uncomfortable metal screeching against metal, the shadows began to move. The blades, once standing firm and still to assault any who dared to still be standing, now began to retract, to retreat as their ambush had completely failed. Yet that alone did not allow the two to simply shake it off and keep moving. Even with the danger withdrawing with its tail tucked between its legs the pair's bodies dared not move at all. As if frozen, the two simply could only watch the grating pair of enlarged swords sweep itself away, back between the cracks they hid behind and disappear like they never were meant to exist at all.

Once Haydee's sight left the cracks and to the door, she immediately stood back up like nobody's business. Not doing so alone, Haydee's hand had grabbed at the human's side and dragged him along, pulling him up to his feet yet to his continued shock found himself almost throwing through the door as Haydee pulled him inside, out of the hallway's lengthy area of bisection.

His unexpected shove was not the end of his forceful pushing, because before the still bewildered man could get a word in edgewise he suddenly found himself assaulted by two very inappropriate hands. Clawing and tickling away at him, Dale could only jutter on the spot as the two metallic hands inspected him all over. Over his cheeks, his skin and ending at his chest, Haydee felt around him look him over like he might have contracted some kind of deadly rash. But to her relief, and somewhat to his as well, Dale was perfectly fine. A little shaken up, adding on still likely dealing with the still dumbfounding revelation he had witnessed, but otherwise to her complete thankfulness another victim was not claimed at this moment.

Slowly letting go, letting her fingers drift down so she can give him some much needed space, Haydee inwardly gave a sigh of relief as she knew now they could continue forth. At least, for now, a danger had passed, and the pair could keep venturing on to the end of this place. With a final looking back, a final remark on the fallen Haydee that did all she could, and in turn, who's faults saved two others, she began to proceed on forth, down towards the next door over.

"Sorry, um, H-Haydee?" She paused, strongly taking a turn around as she noticed the human fidgeting on the spot. "I. . . I just wanted to apologise for what I had said. Earlier. I shouldn't have said that to you."

To what end his apology was about, she did not know. Yet, she did not care to know. She felt no hostility to any words he had spoken at all, either earlier or at any time she had known him. Perhaps, in some ways, his own way, he might have spoken something with more bile in it on his end than hers, but that's simply a matter of deduction. An investigation she did not see the purpose of, as she strongly believed this man held no interest of hate towards her.

Nothing thus far had suggested he would, even in the slightest, and above all his emotions going out of whack was completely understandable by what he had witnessed. If he felt bad, then that was indeed something she would need to clarify, but she simply does not see the necessity in finding the reason for his guilt. Perhaps, if she needed to find the reason to make an answer then she would know to figure it out beforehand, but only if that call will hang true. For now, she saw no reason to involve herself, her priority only keeping the human safe and sane, and she will uphold this meaning until her very last move.

So with her hand coming out, palm to the open air, her intentions were laid out as bare as her hand, her twitching fingers ushering him to make contact. When he did, albeit with some cautious moves, her body suddenly lurched forward to hold him close.

The woman's hug was pleasant, or at least, that's what she wanted it to be. Warm, soft, comfortable, she wanted him to feel safe and secure, to feel like someone truly did care for his well being, as it should be. True, she believed her hug was little more than a basic, underappreciated copy of what a real woman's hug could be, but she at least hoped her hard chassis of a caress was sufficient enough to get the point across.

When she pulled apart, she nodded to him, confirming to him she stated a positive, before stepping apart and offering her hand. She wanted him to continue on with her, her intentions were to speak out, and she had no desire to go alone. Not to diminish what he said, but rather that she did not hand it over him. She needed him to take a solid leap also, to know he had his own choices to make; and that nothing else defined him but himself.

Once he took it, he stepped forward, right by her side; to be walking along at both their own paces. Together, they will escape, find the answers, and keep the promise she had made.

Nothing left to discuss, hand-in-hand, the two left to the next door.