"I hate to say it, Mitsuko, but I had my doubts that you would
survive," commented Dr. Sloth, taking a swig of a small shot glass of cheap
whiskey. "I just barely got there in time, too-impressive programming
you've got there."
"I suppose," replied Mitsuko, hardly listening. They were back at Dr. Sloth's house, the final matching occurring the next day. She stirred the gruel with her finger idly, not hungry. Of course, in all honesty, she was never really hungry, but she generally at least enjoyed the sensation of eating food. Now, however, her stomach felt full, although her soul empty- she had seen the unfortunate truth of what had happened to Krishna, and across the table from her sat Phil, eating silently. He looked happy enough, but he would usually be bubbling with words on the subject they were on.
"Yeah. Congratulations," said Phil with a faint smile, quickly returning to his food, as if to switch the subject in his mind.
"Thank you," she answered, her voice emotionless, staring down at the grayish food. Dr. Sloth seemed unconcerned about her lack of feeling-in fact, he looked as if he hardly noticed, a smile spreading across his face from a combination of the alcohol and the victory of Mitsuko. He had long since finished his supper, and began to wheel out of the kitchen, the smile still stuck on his face.
"Better go check on that faerie. . .in the lab. . .yeah. . ." muttered Dr. Sloth, slightly deranged, crashing into a door as he tried to get out of the room.
"The doctor has trouble holding alcohol," snickered Phil, scraping off the remains of his gruel. "Heck, back when in the day, he could torture his liver silly, but lately. . .well, it effects him real quick." Mitsuko nodded, not really wanting to discuss Dr. Sloth's ability to get drunk hastily. Phil seemed to notice the worried expression on her face, a ray of hope flickering on his face. "What's the matter? Stressed for tomorrow's match?"
"No. That's the least of my concerns," Mitsuko said, shaking her head. "It's about Dr. Krishna."
"What about 'im?"
"I saw him today."
"Awesome! Then we know that he's actually with the faeries. Should be easier to rescue him then."
"Yeah. . .he's alive, at least. But. . .he doesn't remember me. And he's not like he used to be. That empress faerie. . .what's her name. . .Tahora. . .she put some sort of 'binding' spell on him. It makes me wonder. . .if it's even worth fighting." She didn't know why she was telling Phil this-she knew that he would stop at anything to stop her from competing in the RBT further. She regretted telling him at first, beginning to amend herself. Phil stopped her, though, placing his warm hand on hers, as if to reassure her.
"Dr. Krishna matters a lot to you, doesn't he?"
". . .Yes. I think so. I don't think I would be fighting for anything else."
"Then you can't stop now. You've gotten yourself into the RBT for the purpose of saving him-and now that you've seen what happened to him, you're regretting your decision. But don't turn back on what you decided-that's not the Mitsuko that I know. Turning around now would be against everything that represents you; you're a fighter, Mitsuko. And maybe if you buy off Dr. Krishna. . .maybe you can make him remember, or the spell will be lifted."
Mitsuko looked deep into Phil's eyes, remembering Dr. Sloth's words. She knew that Phil couldn't possibly want her to continue fighting-she knew that he was totally against the RBT. But he seemed honest enough about wanting her to keep going, to keep with what she had started. She curved her lips upwards into a smile, Phil joining her in the happy expression. She put her other hand over his, grasping it tightly.
"Thank you, Phil," she said softly, clutching his hand. They continued to look into each other's eyes, as if transfixed, hardly noticing that their heads were migrating closer together. For a moment, Mitsuko was convinced that she understood everything about Phil, what made him tick, and just how sweet he was, how.perfect. She tilted her head to the side slightly, closing her eyes, wondering in the back of her mind what, exactly, was she doing? In the front of her mind, however, she knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted at this moment more than anything else in the world, even more than Krishna's release. She could feel the warmth of Phil's face coming closer to hers, and she welcomed it, a tingling spreading throughout her body.
But instead of receiving what she thought she would, she could feel the warmth migrating away from her face, another hand enclosing hers. Opening her eyes, she looked at Phil in astonishment, his face seeming so far away from hers. His smile was excruciatingly sad, striking emotional pain through her body, the feeling of rejection creeping into her chest.
"No. I'm sorry. . .I can't. . .make the same mistake twice."
Phil let go of her hands and departed from the kitchen, leaving Mitsuko desperately alone, there to sit and stare at her hands, to ponder upon what had just happened. Before, underneath the moonlight, she had been the one who had rejected Phil-but now, underneath the artificial, dim light of the kitchen, it was she who had been rejected. A stabbing pain jutted through her body, not in her stomach, but in her chest. Her eyes felt extraordinarily moist, and as she moved her hand to her eyes and pulled it back, she found she was leaking oil from them, blinking hard, the oil rolling down her face.
"What. . ." she mumbled to herself, staring at her blackened hand, ". . .what is happening to me?"
"You're not yourself.please, I know you don't want to do this." whimpered the man, finding himself cornered on the wall, the woman approaching steadily, not quickening or slowing her pace towards him. The ball of energy her hand grew steadily larger, more threatening and powerful. Mitsuko watched from the sidelines, trapped, unable to move. After all, how could she move without a body?
"I'm not?" The woman smirked. "Maybe I am now.and our whole affair has been a joke to me."
"No. That's a lie.you're lying."
"How can you tell? Can you?" The woman bent down, leaning close to his face. "No, you can't. You're lying yourself. You just don't want to come to the facts: I never loved you."
"No.you're being controlled. Look in the mirror-look at your eyes! Your pupils."
"Shut up. I grow tired of your whining."
"You're not going to throw that energy ball."
"How can you be sure?"
"I can't. But I know you."
"No, you don't."
The man's scream of absolute agony wracked through Mitsuko's body.
"And the winner is. . .Model 1748, Mitsuko!"
The crowd's usual screams of approval made Mitsuko's body quiver from their absolute intensity. She looked at them apathetically, hardly caring that she had won against the robotic Skeith. Giving a little shrug of her shoulder, she removed the helmet that she wore normally in battle now, waving to the crowd a bit, not caring for their approval. She wanted only one's approval at this point, and she had failed to gain it. Even though she knew she was in the finals now, the mysterious eighth robot issued by the woman in the box her opponent, who Mitsuko had found to be the Empress Tahora by discussion with the Earth faerie that now regularly fixed her up, she could not help but feel rotted out inside, as if she contained nothing.
As the robot medics carted out the limp figure of the battered and dismembered Skeith, a hush fell over the crowd. The final round was now about to commence, and Mitsuko would find out about her opponent, whom she had heard little about, despite the fact that it had won hands down each round. Both Mitsuko and her opponent had not had the courtesy of being repaired after their last match, so they would have even odds. All eyes wandered to the door that was directly across from Mitsuko, where undoubtedly her opponent would exit from.
Mitsuko felt weary, but the programming wouldn't let her stop. She was leaking a bit from the wound, still not repaired to its fullest, but she had begun to ignore it, knowing that it wasn't leaking enough to potentially put her in danger. Straightening to her full height, she stared at the doorway, the stone gates slowly being pulled aside to allow her opponent passage. Tentatively, she waited.
In an instant, a figure shot out of the dark opening, Mitsuko quickly regaining her guard. She didn't expect an attack right away-usually there was a command given before the first attack commenced. She was wrong, however, to let her guard down a little because of this presumption-because before she knew what was happening, her opponent, a mere blur in its swiftness, slammed into her stomach, making her fly backwards, tumbling into the sand. She could feel the patching on the wound over her stomach squeak and loosen, beginning to leak more. She could also taste sand in her mouth, and spat it out, looking up with bleary eyes which had also been affected by the sand.
"Empress Tahora was right-a prototype like you will be no challenge for the actual product."
As she blinked the sand out of her eyes, she was jarred to see that she was staring up at her very own face, hardly any difference, besides the fact they were bruised and had dirt in different places. There was one more difference as well-the plate on her forehead read "01" instead of "00." Rubbing her eyes, Mitsuko forced herself to stand up, not saying anything to her opponent. Indeed, even her body, which she knew was not her original body, was an exact replica of hers, except for the large hole in the center, dripping gasoline.
Mitsuko pulled on the helmet, knowing that she would need it for this round more than any of the others. She also picked up her sword, holding it out towards the 01 clone of herself. Her 01 replica snorted indignantly, puffing out her chest, which had its share of injuries and beatings.
"Feh! I don't need any weapons to beat a prototype like you," boasted the 01 clone, grinning devilishly. "I'll crush you into the dust with my bare hands alone."
"FIGHT!"
The word resonated through the middle of their conversation, catching Mitsuko off guard, having been concentrating on trying to figure out where a copy of herself could've come from, as well as why she kept calling Mitsuko a prototype. This unawareness allowed the copy to get in the first shot, head-butting into Mitsuko's vulnerable stomach, knocking her backwards. Mitsuko managed to keep her balance this tie, however, and answered her attack by grabbing the 01 model by her head and flipping her clear over her body. The crowd gave a gasp, 01 clattering to her back, but getting up in the blink of an eye.
"No more free shots," snarled the 01 clone, and shot into the air. Mitsuko herself had done this many times before, to try and dive-bomb her opponents-so she followed suit, jetting up into the air. Mitsuko soon caught up with the 01 clone, who hung in the air, awaiting her arrival.
"I bet you're wondering why I look exactly like you-thankfully, I have more than the personality of a sponge," scoffed the 01 clone, throwing her head up into the air haughtily.
"I assume you have the answers," replied Mitsuko, staring at her hard.
"It's simple-you know that little half-breed Dr. Krishna that you're fighting to reclaim? The Empress Tahora made him make me just like you, sans the pieces of organic brain, so that she would be able to eliminate that piece of crap Dr. Sloth." She was suddenly right before Mitsuko's face, holding her close, grinning madly. "Do you know how much your little Krishna screamed like a girl when Tahora tortured him? It was rich." Her laughter was as cold as ice, and just as chilling. "His halfling-ness makes him weak.just like your organic sentience makes you weak."
Mitsuko clenched her teeth, feeling the fire of anger beginning to burn inside of her. "Never talk about Dr. Krishna like that!" Mitsuko wrapped her arms tightly around her clone, gripping her uncomfortably close to her body, reversing the direction in which they had been traveling, sending them spiraling downwards. They collided with the ground hard, but not hard enough to smash them up sufficiently enough, both jumping out of the impact on different sides, their skulls and other body parts dented badly.
"Some attack-you fight like your little doctor!"
"Shut up!"
Mitsuko charged at her clone in an absolute rage, unable to allow her to say such things about people she cared about. She swung her sword expertly, but the 01 clone was simply too fast-she was behind her in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around Mitsuko's neck. Mitsuko gave a groan, but stabbed between her legs and upwards, contacting the 01 clone's body. The clone gave a cry of surprise, releasing Mitsuko subconsciously. Mitsuko darted out of the way, making her body horizontal to the ground and firing her boosters, lowering her head and speeding towards her clone. She knicked the clone on the side, but 01 barely seemed effected. As Mitsuko came around for another pass, 01 jumped upwards and landed on Mitsuko's back expertly, riding her like a surfboard.
"Heh-you're much too predictable, Mitsuko.but that's not your real name, is it?"
"No-and what should you care?!" Mitsuko flipped upside down, attempting to shake off 01, but failing, 01 clutching to her wings and slamming them down to her back, consequently making her boosters disengage. Mitsuko tumbled to the ground, 01 jumping off just in time, engaging her boosters and landing softly on the ground. Mitsuko coughed, trying to get up, but finding 01 on top of her, grabbing her wings fiercely and ripping at them. Mitsuko cried out in pain and struck at 01 with her tail, but to no avail-with a horrifying rip and a dreadful bolt of pain, her wings were separated from her back, falling to the ground with a loud clank.
Mitsuko did not give 01 the pleasure of her screaming in agony at the loss of her wings, but she did so internally, throwing her arms over her side and touching the disconnected wires where her wings used to be. Her knees buckled, and she clenched her teeth, eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the helmet being lifted from her head and the sound of it being thrown into the sand.
"Pathetic," snickered 01, circling Mitsuko's body, her body periodically jerking with pain, the wires from her back snapping and crackling with electricity. "Your anger makes you weak. You care too much about those people.the former criminal Dr. Sloth, the weakling Dr. Krishna and.who else is there? Ah yes, that little pacifistic Desert Shoyru, Philokrates. You know what I'm going to do to him after I've finished you, 00? I'm going to find that Phil of yours.I'm going to kiss him, and do all of the things that you wanted to do with that weak organic half of yours. And then, take a guess upon what I'll do, 00. . .I'll kill him nice and slow, relishing in every moment of his whines and cries. . .I will so enjoy this. . ."
Mitsuko felt as if she were on fire, set to explode. The pain in her shoulders seemed to vanish in her absolute hatred of her clone, the model numbered 01, and she shook with rage. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," snarled Mitsuko, and suddenly lunged at 01 in a blind rage, swinging her sword wildly. 01, surprised, was forced to back up, many of the blows striking her on the chest, drawing oil from her chest. Mitsuko screamed at her, swearing and cursing, unable to think of anything else, managing to hack off one of 01's hands. 01 finally seemed to regain her wits, apparently seeing that Mitsuko was nothing more than a ball of rage, able to be stopped easily.
01 leapt over Mitsuko, who began striking at thin air, too furious to even care that she wasn't hitting anything, just that she was getting her rage out on something, even if it was air. 01 once again grabbed Mitsuko by the throat, holding her in a head lock with the arm that lacked a hand, placing her hand over the plate on her forehead that read 00. "And so it ends," said 01, sneering, and pressed her fingers hard down on the metal plate, smashing it.
Mitsuko immediately felt her brain go wild, turning into a mess of chaos and misfired signals. The plate on the front of her head, in all rights, had been what coordinated the thoughts between her organic brain and her programming. A flurry of random thoughts and phrases shot through her head, making it impossible to think. She had to concentrate hard to try and regain herself, having to control both halves of herself simultaneously, two halves that didn't especially like one another. 01 released Mitsuko from her grasps, and the robot tipped forwards, falling flat onto her face.
"No! Suko!"
The voice was barely tangible in Mitsuko's mind, but she managed to translate it, slowly moving her head so she could see where it was coming from, her head lying on the ground. The image coming towards her was fuzzy at first, but as she focused in on it as hard as she could manage, she could discern the figure of a Desert Shoyru heading towards her. She tried to move her lips, but they seemed as if they were stuck together. Letting her vision go, she concentrated on her lips. "Phil. . .?"
"So this is your little Desert Shoyru, hmmm?" smirked 01, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Philokrates-your little custom lover is finished." Phil ignored her, bending down to Mitsuko, touching the side of her cheek. To Mitsuko, it felt like he was touching thousands of parts of her body simultaneously, but just the warmth of his fingers was enough.
"Suko, can you hear me?"
". . .Yes. . .I thought. . .you wouldn't come. . ."
"I didn't come to the first one. . .but. . .I was worried about you. I didn't want to torture myself by seeing you like this. . .but. . .I had to come. . .it was like I didn't have a choice." Mitsuko could see the blurry visions of referees coming into the field to usher Phil off. She didn't want that in the least, and moved as much as she could, placing her hand on Phil's, or what she thought to be his hand.
"It's. . .over. . ."
"No, it's not! You can still beat this. . .this replica of you. You're the original-you're the one who came first!"
"Am. . .I. . .?"
"Am I what?"
"Am. . .I. . .the one. . .you care for?"
"Yes! Yes, I said I wouldn't do it again. . .I said I would never make a connection to a robot ever again. But. . .I can't. Yes, I care for you!"
"Promise me. . ."
"Promise you what?"
"Do you promise. . .that you'll never. . .leave?"
"Yes, anything you want, I'll give it to you! You just have to survive, Mitsuko! Please! If you die. . .I'd die with you. I wouldn't be able. . .I wouldn't be able to suffer life without you."
"Enough of your sentimental spats-if she can still talk, then I haven't won. And as for you, Shoyru-" 01 grabbed Phil by the shawl suddenly, pulling him towards her and grasping his arm, clenching down on it like a vice. Phil gave a gasp of pain, his eyes bugging slightly. 01 pulled him close to her, grasping his throat, clenching it even harder than his wrist, fingertips digging into his flesh. Phil gave a choking nose, clutching at 01's hand, unable to break free. "Good-bye, little Shoyru."
"No. . .good-bye, you dirty. . .carbon copy. . ."
As soon as Mitsuko had said this, she suddenly retained her grasp on the hilt of her sword that had fallen into the sand. With a movement so quick for her current state, she swung the sword upwards, scarcely missing Phil in her blind, instinctive movements. The sword deftly cut through 01's framework, nearly splitting her opponent in half.
For a moment, they were at a standstill, Phil still in the grasps of 01, whose expression was staring in astonishment at Phil's face, Mitsuko's arm trembling in the air, just barely able to keep the sword up. The moment quickly passed, however, and 01 suddenly let go of Phil, stumbling backwards. She fell backwards onto the ground, her eyes staring upwards blankly, clearing deactivated from the drastic injury that she had suffered. Phil gasped, drawing backwards, sucking in deep breaths of air, grabbing at his throat. Mitsuko dropped her weapon, letting her body temporarily grow limp on the ground.
But it wasn't over yet. No. The victor was the last one standing, and still functioning-and though it was a mess of badly sent messages between machine and brain, Mitsuko was still functioning enough to move enough. Focusing as much as she could, she pushed her body upwards, shaking like a dead leaf in a furious wind. She felt like she would collapse at any second, but she forced herself to support herself. Slowly, she lifted her first leg, and then her other leg. With a push from her arms, she was up, wobbling slightly, rejecting the help that Phil offered. The crowd was absolutely silent, staring at the damaged robot, the unexpected victor.
"The winner of this year's Robotic Battle Tournament-Model 1748, Mitsuko!"
The audience's cheers of approval were deafening, to Mitsuko seeming to come in odd, disorganized spats. She did little more than just stand like a vegetable as robotic medics rushed up to her, putting a wreath of flowers around her neck and starting to pick her up in order to be repaired. As she felt herself being carried away, aware of the sensation of no longer having to keep herself upright, she reached her arm in the direction where she believed Phil to be, trying to grab him but only grasping air.
"Phil. . .come. . ."
At that moment, her circuits suddenly ceased functioning, rendering her body limp and useless, almost as bad as 01's body. Her consciousness stayed with her for little more than a few seconds, staring up blankly at the gray, dismal sky, looking about to rain. She could feel the oil dripping from her stomach, rolling down her body and onto the ground, leaving a trail behind those that carried her. If she could move her lips, she would've smiled-at that moment, everything seemed perfect, despite her broken and battered body. Soon, she would free Krishna, allow him to live as he pleased-and soon she would be with Phil again, able to express herself honestly. Yes, the spirit of happiness was flooding into her chest. It was unfortunate that she lost consciousness a moment after that, for that one instant of happiness would have to last her for the remainder of her life.
"I suppose," replied Mitsuko, hardly listening. They were back at Dr. Sloth's house, the final matching occurring the next day. She stirred the gruel with her finger idly, not hungry. Of course, in all honesty, she was never really hungry, but she generally at least enjoyed the sensation of eating food. Now, however, her stomach felt full, although her soul empty- she had seen the unfortunate truth of what had happened to Krishna, and across the table from her sat Phil, eating silently. He looked happy enough, but he would usually be bubbling with words on the subject they were on.
"Yeah. Congratulations," said Phil with a faint smile, quickly returning to his food, as if to switch the subject in his mind.
"Thank you," she answered, her voice emotionless, staring down at the grayish food. Dr. Sloth seemed unconcerned about her lack of feeling-in fact, he looked as if he hardly noticed, a smile spreading across his face from a combination of the alcohol and the victory of Mitsuko. He had long since finished his supper, and began to wheel out of the kitchen, the smile still stuck on his face.
"Better go check on that faerie. . .in the lab. . .yeah. . ." muttered Dr. Sloth, slightly deranged, crashing into a door as he tried to get out of the room.
"The doctor has trouble holding alcohol," snickered Phil, scraping off the remains of his gruel. "Heck, back when in the day, he could torture his liver silly, but lately. . .well, it effects him real quick." Mitsuko nodded, not really wanting to discuss Dr. Sloth's ability to get drunk hastily. Phil seemed to notice the worried expression on her face, a ray of hope flickering on his face. "What's the matter? Stressed for tomorrow's match?"
"No. That's the least of my concerns," Mitsuko said, shaking her head. "It's about Dr. Krishna."
"What about 'im?"
"I saw him today."
"Awesome! Then we know that he's actually with the faeries. Should be easier to rescue him then."
"Yeah. . .he's alive, at least. But. . .he doesn't remember me. And he's not like he used to be. That empress faerie. . .what's her name. . .Tahora. . .she put some sort of 'binding' spell on him. It makes me wonder. . .if it's even worth fighting." She didn't know why she was telling Phil this-she knew that he would stop at anything to stop her from competing in the RBT further. She regretted telling him at first, beginning to amend herself. Phil stopped her, though, placing his warm hand on hers, as if to reassure her.
"Dr. Krishna matters a lot to you, doesn't he?"
". . .Yes. I think so. I don't think I would be fighting for anything else."
"Then you can't stop now. You've gotten yourself into the RBT for the purpose of saving him-and now that you've seen what happened to him, you're regretting your decision. But don't turn back on what you decided-that's not the Mitsuko that I know. Turning around now would be against everything that represents you; you're a fighter, Mitsuko. And maybe if you buy off Dr. Krishna. . .maybe you can make him remember, or the spell will be lifted."
Mitsuko looked deep into Phil's eyes, remembering Dr. Sloth's words. She knew that Phil couldn't possibly want her to continue fighting-she knew that he was totally against the RBT. But he seemed honest enough about wanting her to keep going, to keep with what she had started. She curved her lips upwards into a smile, Phil joining her in the happy expression. She put her other hand over his, grasping it tightly.
"Thank you, Phil," she said softly, clutching his hand. They continued to look into each other's eyes, as if transfixed, hardly noticing that their heads were migrating closer together. For a moment, Mitsuko was convinced that she understood everything about Phil, what made him tick, and just how sweet he was, how.perfect. She tilted her head to the side slightly, closing her eyes, wondering in the back of her mind what, exactly, was she doing? In the front of her mind, however, she knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted at this moment more than anything else in the world, even more than Krishna's release. She could feel the warmth of Phil's face coming closer to hers, and she welcomed it, a tingling spreading throughout her body.
But instead of receiving what she thought she would, she could feel the warmth migrating away from her face, another hand enclosing hers. Opening her eyes, she looked at Phil in astonishment, his face seeming so far away from hers. His smile was excruciatingly sad, striking emotional pain through her body, the feeling of rejection creeping into her chest.
"No. I'm sorry. . .I can't. . .make the same mistake twice."
Phil let go of her hands and departed from the kitchen, leaving Mitsuko desperately alone, there to sit and stare at her hands, to ponder upon what had just happened. Before, underneath the moonlight, she had been the one who had rejected Phil-but now, underneath the artificial, dim light of the kitchen, it was she who had been rejected. A stabbing pain jutted through her body, not in her stomach, but in her chest. Her eyes felt extraordinarily moist, and as she moved her hand to her eyes and pulled it back, she found she was leaking oil from them, blinking hard, the oil rolling down her face.
"What. . ." she mumbled to herself, staring at her blackened hand, ". . .what is happening to me?"
"You're not yourself.please, I know you don't want to do this." whimpered the man, finding himself cornered on the wall, the woman approaching steadily, not quickening or slowing her pace towards him. The ball of energy her hand grew steadily larger, more threatening and powerful. Mitsuko watched from the sidelines, trapped, unable to move. After all, how could she move without a body?
"I'm not?" The woman smirked. "Maybe I am now.and our whole affair has been a joke to me."
"No. That's a lie.you're lying."
"How can you tell? Can you?" The woman bent down, leaning close to his face. "No, you can't. You're lying yourself. You just don't want to come to the facts: I never loved you."
"No.you're being controlled. Look in the mirror-look at your eyes! Your pupils."
"Shut up. I grow tired of your whining."
"You're not going to throw that energy ball."
"How can you be sure?"
"I can't. But I know you."
"No, you don't."
The man's scream of absolute agony wracked through Mitsuko's body.
"And the winner is. . .Model 1748, Mitsuko!"
The crowd's usual screams of approval made Mitsuko's body quiver from their absolute intensity. She looked at them apathetically, hardly caring that she had won against the robotic Skeith. Giving a little shrug of her shoulder, she removed the helmet that she wore normally in battle now, waving to the crowd a bit, not caring for their approval. She wanted only one's approval at this point, and she had failed to gain it. Even though she knew she was in the finals now, the mysterious eighth robot issued by the woman in the box her opponent, who Mitsuko had found to be the Empress Tahora by discussion with the Earth faerie that now regularly fixed her up, she could not help but feel rotted out inside, as if she contained nothing.
As the robot medics carted out the limp figure of the battered and dismembered Skeith, a hush fell over the crowd. The final round was now about to commence, and Mitsuko would find out about her opponent, whom she had heard little about, despite the fact that it had won hands down each round. Both Mitsuko and her opponent had not had the courtesy of being repaired after their last match, so they would have even odds. All eyes wandered to the door that was directly across from Mitsuko, where undoubtedly her opponent would exit from.
Mitsuko felt weary, but the programming wouldn't let her stop. She was leaking a bit from the wound, still not repaired to its fullest, but she had begun to ignore it, knowing that it wasn't leaking enough to potentially put her in danger. Straightening to her full height, she stared at the doorway, the stone gates slowly being pulled aside to allow her opponent passage. Tentatively, she waited.
In an instant, a figure shot out of the dark opening, Mitsuko quickly regaining her guard. She didn't expect an attack right away-usually there was a command given before the first attack commenced. She was wrong, however, to let her guard down a little because of this presumption-because before she knew what was happening, her opponent, a mere blur in its swiftness, slammed into her stomach, making her fly backwards, tumbling into the sand. She could feel the patching on the wound over her stomach squeak and loosen, beginning to leak more. She could also taste sand in her mouth, and spat it out, looking up with bleary eyes which had also been affected by the sand.
"Empress Tahora was right-a prototype like you will be no challenge for the actual product."
As she blinked the sand out of her eyes, she was jarred to see that she was staring up at her very own face, hardly any difference, besides the fact they were bruised and had dirt in different places. There was one more difference as well-the plate on her forehead read "01" instead of "00." Rubbing her eyes, Mitsuko forced herself to stand up, not saying anything to her opponent. Indeed, even her body, which she knew was not her original body, was an exact replica of hers, except for the large hole in the center, dripping gasoline.
Mitsuko pulled on the helmet, knowing that she would need it for this round more than any of the others. She also picked up her sword, holding it out towards the 01 clone of herself. Her 01 replica snorted indignantly, puffing out her chest, which had its share of injuries and beatings.
"Feh! I don't need any weapons to beat a prototype like you," boasted the 01 clone, grinning devilishly. "I'll crush you into the dust with my bare hands alone."
"FIGHT!"
The word resonated through the middle of their conversation, catching Mitsuko off guard, having been concentrating on trying to figure out where a copy of herself could've come from, as well as why she kept calling Mitsuko a prototype. This unawareness allowed the copy to get in the first shot, head-butting into Mitsuko's vulnerable stomach, knocking her backwards. Mitsuko managed to keep her balance this tie, however, and answered her attack by grabbing the 01 model by her head and flipping her clear over her body. The crowd gave a gasp, 01 clattering to her back, but getting up in the blink of an eye.
"No more free shots," snarled the 01 clone, and shot into the air. Mitsuko herself had done this many times before, to try and dive-bomb her opponents-so she followed suit, jetting up into the air. Mitsuko soon caught up with the 01 clone, who hung in the air, awaiting her arrival.
"I bet you're wondering why I look exactly like you-thankfully, I have more than the personality of a sponge," scoffed the 01 clone, throwing her head up into the air haughtily.
"I assume you have the answers," replied Mitsuko, staring at her hard.
"It's simple-you know that little half-breed Dr. Krishna that you're fighting to reclaim? The Empress Tahora made him make me just like you, sans the pieces of organic brain, so that she would be able to eliminate that piece of crap Dr. Sloth." She was suddenly right before Mitsuko's face, holding her close, grinning madly. "Do you know how much your little Krishna screamed like a girl when Tahora tortured him? It was rich." Her laughter was as cold as ice, and just as chilling. "His halfling-ness makes him weak.just like your organic sentience makes you weak."
Mitsuko clenched her teeth, feeling the fire of anger beginning to burn inside of her. "Never talk about Dr. Krishna like that!" Mitsuko wrapped her arms tightly around her clone, gripping her uncomfortably close to her body, reversing the direction in which they had been traveling, sending them spiraling downwards. They collided with the ground hard, but not hard enough to smash them up sufficiently enough, both jumping out of the impact on different sides, their skulls and other body parts dented badly.
"Some attack-you fight like your little doctor!"
"Shut up!"
Mitsuko charged at her clone in an absolute rage, unable to allow her to say such things about people she cared about. She swung her sword expertly, but the 01 clone was simply too fast-she was behind her in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around Mitsuko's neck. Mitsuko gave a groan, but stabbed between her legs and upwards, contacting the 01 clone's body. The clone gave a cry of surprise, releasing Mitsuko subconsciously. Mitsuko darted out of the way, making her body horizontal to the ground and firing her boosters, lowering her head and speeding towards her clone. She knicked the clone on the side, but 01 barely seemed effected. As Mitsuko came around for another pass, 01 jumped upwards and landed on Mitsuko's back expertly, riding her like a surfboard.
"Heh-you're much too predictable, Mitsuko.but that's not your real name, is it?"
"No-and what should you care?!" Mitsuko flipped upside down, attempting to shake off 01, but failing, 01 clutching to her wings and slamming them down to her back, consequently making her boosters disengage. Mitsuko tumbled to the ground, 01 jumping off just in time, engaging her boosters and landing softly on the ground. Mitsuko coughed, trying to get up, but finding 01 on top of her, grabbing her wings fiercely and ripping at them. Mitsuko cried out in pain and struck at 01 with her tail, but to no avail-with a horrifying rip and a dreadful bolt of pain, her wings were separated from her back, falling to the ground with a loud clank.
Mitsuko did not give 01 the pleasure of her screaming in agony at the loss of her wings, but she did so internally, throwing her arms over her side and touching the disconnected wires where her wings used to be. Her knees buckled, and she clenched her teeth, eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the helmet being lifted from her head and the sound of it being thrown into the sand.
"Pathetic," snickered 01, circling Mitsuko's body, her body periodically jerking with pain, the wires from her back snapping and crackling with electricity. "Your anger makes you weak. You care too much about those people.the former criminal Dr. Sloth, the weakling Dr. Krishna and.who else is there? Ah yes, that little pacifistic Desert Shoyru, Philokrates. You know what I'm going to do to him after I've finished you, 00? I'm going to find that Phil of yours.I'm going to kiss him, and do all of the things that you wanted to do with that weak organic half of yours. And then, take a guess upon what I'll do, 00. . .I'll kill him nice and slow, relishing in every moment of his whines and cries. . .I will so enjoy this. . ."
Mitsuko felt as if she were on fire, set to explode. The pain in her shoulders seemed to vanish in her absolute hatred of her clone, the model numbered 01, and she shook with rage. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," snarled Mitsuko, and suddenly lunged at 01 in a blind rage, swinging her sword wildly. 01, surprised, was forced to back up, many of the blows striking her on the chest, drawing oil from her chest. Mitsuko screamed at her, swearing and cursing, unable to think of anything else, managing to hack off one of 01's hands. 01 finally seemed to regain her wits, apparently seeing that Mitsuko was nothing more than a ball of rage, able to be stopped easily.
01 leapt over Mitsuko, who began striking at thin air, too furious to even care that she wasn't hitting anything, just that she was getting her rage out on something, even if it was air. 01 once again grabbed Mitsuko by the throat, holding her in a head lock with the arm that lacked a hand, placing her hand over the plate on her forehead that read 00. "And so it ends," said 01, sneering, and pressed her fingers hard down on the metal plate, smashing it.
Mitsuko immediately felt her brain go wild, turning into a mess of chaos and misfired signals. The plate on the front of her head, in all rights, had been what coordinated the thoughts between her organic brain and her programming. A flurry of random thoughts and phrases shot through her head, making it impossible to think. She had to concentrate hard to try and regain herself, having to control both halves of herself simultaneously, two halves that didn't especially like one another. 01 released Mitsuko from her grasps, and the robot tipped forwards, falling flat onto her face.
"No! Suko!"
The voice was barely tangible in Mitsuko's mind, but she managed to translate it, slowly moving her head so she could see where it was coming from, her head lying on the ground. The image coming towards her was fuzzy at first, but as she focused in on it as hard as she could manage, she could discern the figure of a Desert Shoyru heading towards her. She tried to move her lips, but they seemed as if they were stuck together. Letting her vision go, she concentrated on her lips. "Phil. . .?"
"So this is your little Desert Shoyru, hmmm?" smirked 01, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Philokrates-your little custom lover is finished." Phil ignored her, bending down to Mitsuko, touching the side of her cheek. To Mitsuko, it felt like he was touching thousands of parts of her body simultaneously, but just the warmth of his fingers was enough.
"Suko, can you hear me?"
". . .Yes. . .I thought. . .you wouldn't come. . ."
"I didn't come to the first one. . .but. . .I was worried about you. I didn't want to torture myself by seeing you like this. . .but. . .I had to come. . .it was like I didn't have a choice." Mitsuko could see the blurry visions of referees coming into the field to usher Phil off. She didn't want that in the least, and moved as much as she could, placing her hand on Phil's, or what she thought to be his hand.
"It's. . .over. . ."
"No, it's not! You can still beat this. . .this replica of you. You're the original-you're the one who came first!"
"Am. . .I. . .?"
"Am I what?"
"Am. . .I. . .the one. . .you care for?"
"Yes! Yes, I said I wouldn't do it again. . .I said I would never make a connection to a robot ever again. But. . .I can't. Yes, I care for you!"
"Promise me. . ."
"Promise you what?"
"Do you promise. . .that you'll never. . .leave?"
"Yes, anything you want, I'll give it to you! You just have to survive, Mitsuko! Please! If you die. . .I'd die with you. I wouldn't be able. . .I wouldn't be able to suffer life without you."
"Enough of your sentimental spats-if she can still talk, then I haven't won. And as for you, Shoyru-" 01 grabbed Phil by the shawl suddenly, pulling him towards her and grasping his arm, clenching down on it like a vice. Phil gave a gasp of pain, his eyes bugging slightly. 01 pulled him close to her, grasping his throat, clenching it even harder than his wrist, fingertips digging into his flesh. Phil gave a choking nose, clutching at 01's hand, unable to break free. "Good-bye, little Shoyru."
"No. . .good-bye, you dirty. . .carbon copy. . ."
As soon as Mitsuko had said this, she suddenly retained her grasp on the hilt of her sword that had fallen into the sand. With a movement so quick for her current state, she swung the sword upwards, scarcely missing Phil in her blind, instinctive movements. The sword deftly cut through 01's framework, nearly splitting her opponent in half.
For a moment, they were at a standstill, Phil still in the grasps of 01, whose expression was staring in astonishment at Phil's face, Mitsuko's arm trembling in the air, just barely able to keep the sword up. The moment quickly passed, however, and 01 suddenly let go of Phil, stumbling backwards. She fell backwards onto the ground, her eyes staring upwards blankly, clearing deactivated from the drastic injury that she had suffered. Phil gasped, drawing backwards, sucking in deep breaths of air, grabbing at his throat. Mitsuko dropped her weapon, letting her body temporarily grow limp on the ground.
But it wasn't over yet. No. The victor was the last one standing, and still functioning-and though it was a mess of badly sent messages between machine and brain, Mitsuko was still functioning enough to move enough. Focusing as much as she could, she pushed her body upwards, shaking like a dead leaf in a furious wind. She felt like she would collapse at any second, but she forced herself to support herself. Slowly, she lifted her first leg, and then her other leg. With a push from her arms, she was up, wobbling slightly, rejecting the help that Phil offered. The crowd was absolutely silent, staring at the damaged robot, the unexpected victor.
"The winner of this year's Robotic Battle Tournament-Model 1748, Mitsuko!"
The audience's cheers of approval were deafening, to Mitsuko seeming to come in odd, disorganized spats. She did little more than just stand like a vegetable as robotic medics rushed up to her, putting a wreath of flowers around her neck and starting to pick her up in order to be repaired. As she felt herself being carried away, aware of the sensation of no longer having to keep herself upright, she reached her arm in the direction where she believed Phil to be, trying to grab him but only grasping air.
"Phil. . .come. . ."
At that moment, her circuits suddenly ceased functioning, rendering her body limp and useless, almost as bad as 01's body. Her consciousness stayed with her for little more than a few seconds, staring up blankly at the gray, dismal sky, looking about to rain. She could feel the oil dripping from her stomach, rolling down her body and onto the ground, leaving a trail behind those that carried her. If she could move her lips, she would've smiled-at that moment, everything seemed perfect, despite her broken and battered body. Soon, she would free Krishna, allow him to live as he pleased-and soon she would be with Phil again, able to express herself honestly. Yes, the spirit of happiness was flooding into her chest. It was unfortunate that she lost consciousness a moment after that, for that one instant of happiness would have to last her for the remainder of her life.