Tahra lifted an eyebrow, interrogating Mitsuko with her eyes. "You
really have forgotten everything, haven't you?" she said with a sigh.
"Frank wasn't lying about that, I suppose. . .oh well, I suppose you do
deserve to know something about your past. And now seems like a convenient
enough time as any," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"You, as you have probably deciphered by now, were created by none other than Dr. Frank Sloth himself. A pet project of his, so to speak, long in the making-a sentient programming. Of course, he couldn't do it with merely a computer, so he used parts of a long-dead Shoyru's brain and incorporated it with mechanical programming. The Shoyru brain was naturally aggressive, and the programming was set to kill-a killing machine, so to speak, but able to reason and think in battle, thus giving it an advantage: superior strength and fighting abilities, as well as strategic thinking. He gave you a strikingly organic form, and then put you aside for a while as he came upon Neopia.
"Flash back a while back. A LONG while back, before you were even a thought in Frank's mind, before he became. . .well. . .before he became a so-called 'villain.' He and I were friends, I suppose you could call it- perhaps a bit more than that. Unfortunately, he was into the studying thing, whereas I preferred to slack off-I, however, was offered a job working for protecting Faerieland and Neopia. Needless to say, we grew apart, contacts breaking off-and for thousands of years, I hadn't seen the slightest of him. Of course, when he did come back, it was no better than him being away; for when he came back, in all of his dark glory, I was ordered to destroy him.
"But when it came right down to it. . .I couldn't do it. I couldn't manage to just. . .up and kill the one whom I had formerly had a relationship with. So I let him get away, hoping that he'd disappear once again. But he didn't. He stayed out of reach of Neopia and other conventional faeries for a while, but certainly not out of my reach. I was the Space Faerie, after all-space was mine to roam free. And so the. . .relationship that we had shared in those early years was rekindled, even as he invaded the Lost Desert. Of course, none of the faeries knew about it, because I would probably be executed if any of them found out. But for the time being I thought I was safe, if feeling a little strained.
"Seeing as I divided my time between guarding the atmosphere of Neopia from rogue evils and visiting him, it was natural that I was beginning to become exhausted quite easily. And so out of the dust, he pulled you as a sort of 'replacement' for me. Do you know your original name? It was Primrose-but I just called you Rose for short. You would guard Neopia while I subsequently went to visit him, thus allowing for more. . .personal time. You also could carry messages between the two of us when I had to physically stand guard against potential invaders.
"Unfortunately, the plan wasn't foolproof, and we knew this, and a need for an escape was becoming vital, especially since I had become pregnant, later having to deliver the child in private agony. So we planned my escape, leaving you behind to do my work-granted, we were a bit regretful for that, but we knew that you could handle the job well enough. It was a wonderfully orchestrated plan, but something went wrong.his plan screwed up, the plan that was supposed to be perfect. He said it would work and it didn't-he lied. They found out. . .Fyora, all the other wretched faeries. And, as I had known they would do, they punished me, destroying both me and you without hardly asking any questions. They took my newborn child and threw him down to the Earth to be an orphan, a stranger in a strange land.
"Of course, before they could destroy me completely, they allowed me to have one final request-and that was to be able to kill the one I was formerly willing to throw away my life for, the one that had made me lose everything consequently. Bleeding profusely and almost half dead, I found him and attempted to finish off his life-but I missed with my attack and instead snapped the bottom of his spine, rendering him legless, though I will admit the sound of his vertebrae cracking was terribly stimulating. I could not go on, and I died right then and there, allowing him to escape with the aid of only his arms.
"Sadly, Fyora hadn't counted on just how vital to the equation of Neopian safety I was. With both you and me gone from protecting Neopia from outside invaders, a whole lot of new evils decided to show their ugly faces- those ten times worse than they could've imagined a full-scale Sloth invasion. It rained chaos down on the surface of Neopia, radiation, plagues. . .all sorts of horrible things, decimating the population of humans and cutting the population of Neopets in half. By the time Fyora realized what she had eliminated to cause such catastrophe, having blamed it ignorantly on Sloth before, Faerieland as well fell to the invaders, corruption spreading throughout the cloud land.
"And Fyora, desperate to return faeriekind to its former grace, managed to find my corpse and resort to something that faeries had long since sworn they would never turn to-science. Knowing that she had to find some kind of guardian that had been just as effective as me, she hired a bunch of science faeries she had formerly exiled, desperate to bring myself back, somehow. They managed, through current robotics and, admittedly, some magic, to bring me back from a death I did not desire to leave-leaving me in this deformed, albeit powerful, state. And so, I returned to my position, at first, content for I knew I had little else anymore-a hatred was alighted in my breast for the former lover Frank Sloth, intense and unquenchable, the one who had caused my demise and unfortunate reincarnation.
"Soon, as the catastrophe died down, myself having eliminated all of the threats, no new ones arriving as the planet was worthless now, Neopia now a wasteland with sparse dots of population on major cities, such as Sakhmet and Neopian Central, I realized that I was fighting a battle for the very people who had brought about my slaughter. I was, in all essence, fighting the enemy. So I overthrew the monarchy. It wasn't difficult-a whole fleet of faeries is no match for metal and magic. Many learned that too slowly, and perished because of it-but soon Fyora stepped down to a lower position, allowing me to take control of the faerie population.
"And then, backed by an entire population of faeries, I had unlimited power. I began the RBT, in an effort to reclaim you, of course-I merely tested you with a clone of yourself in order to make sure that you were indeed the robot that I thought you were. Pure programming stands not a chance against a brain coordinated with a computer. I knew that you would eventually lead me to Frank-and thus, I would be able to end the root of the problem, thus solving the problem. And once this is completed, I will be content to once again slip into the peacefulness of death." A smug smile was plastered onto Tahra's face, confident. "Now-there's no reason for us to battle. We were friends once-we can still be such."
Tahra held out her hand in a gesture of peace and friendliness, an almost welcoming smile on her face, gentle, quite unlike the cruel countenances that had been displayed previously. A vague familiarity struck a chord in Mitsuko's mind, memories finding their way from the depths of her mind, striking her all simultaneously like so many bullets hitting her at once. Instinctively, she reached her hand towards Tahra's. Yes. . .she remembered. This was her owner, indeed, the one she had been given to. And. . .she had a message from her. . .to Frank. . .
But before Mitsuko could touch the tips of Tahra's fingers, the cyborg suddenly lurched, her entire body convulsing. Her one crimson eye grew wide, the smile melting from her face. Mitsuko stepped backwards as Tahra toppled forwards, seeming to lose all sense of herself, falling flat on her face. Mitsuko looked up, startled, to see Krishna directly behind Tahra, his hands gripping tightly to a metal pole, knuckles white, devoid of blood. His eyes were wide, pupils slowly dilating, as if he were gradually coming to himself. An angry look found its way onto his face as he looked down at the fallen cyborg.
"You. . .you're not my mother. . ." he hissed venomously, clenching the metal pole hard. "Who do you think you are. . .you. . .you. . ."
Mitsuko gathered herself, feeling a sense of disbelief. For a moment, she had been someone else-something else, rather, for she really wasn't a someone. She had been the robot that Tahra had been talking about, all of her memories temporarily returning, along with the old, more placid personality. Now, however, it seemed to all fade away into the background, the hardened Mitsuko personality returning, almost to her relief. To her, it was a sense of joy to see the Krishna she knew back, despite the angry look on his face. She moved over to him, touching him on the shoulder. He jerked towards her, as if he were about to hit her with the pole as well. Upon seeing she was Mitsuko, however, his muscles seemed to loosen. A weak smile pushed at the sides of his lips, his red eyes sparkling.
"Mitsuko. . .you have no idea what a relief it is to see you in tact. . .see you at all. . ."
"The same applies to you," answered Mitsuko, exchanging his smile. She looked down at the unconscious cyborg, feeling a shred of pity in her heart for a former owner she could not fully remember now. "Come on, we have to go now, though. . .the ghouls in The Cell will finish her. . ."
Just as Mitsuko mentioned the dreaded specters, their ghostly forms began finding their way out of the Cell, shadowflesh repaired, hands groping forwards. The Neopets shrieked and shrank back in their cages, no doubt memories of an encounter with one or the other flittering through their frenzied minds. The creatures from the Cell, however, took no interest in those they had already assaulted-instead, they flocked towards Tahra, lying on the ground helplessly. They shrouded her body with their dark and faded forms, seeming to merge into her, sinking into her body and disappearing. Instantly, her body began to seize as if in intense agony, twitching and twisting in a half-sleep.
"Swamp Ghouls. . .? Where did they come from. . .?" muttered Krishna tiredly. He looked down to his wrists blankly. ". . .shackles. . .I can remember. . .conversations. . ." A pained look flickered in his eyes. "At least. . .I know who my parents are now. . ." He seemed ready to faint, pressing his index fingers against his temples. Mitsuko offered a shoulder to the weary doctor, and he accepted it, wrapping his arm around Mitsuko's shoulder. With what remained of the Battle Faerie's blade, Mitsuko managed to slice through the shackles on Krishna's neck, wrists and ankles, discarding the now useless blade.
They both looked down at the cursed cyborg, only able to guess what she was experiencing. Krishna was the first to speak, his usually pink lips pale. "I heard. . .that she was my mother. . .the two people that I hated most in this world. . .ironic I suppose," he said with a weary smile. "They do say that most children have. . .parent-hating problems. . .perhaps. . .it's appropriate. . ."
"Perhaps," replied Mitsuko, not mentioning that the same applied to her. Instead, she began to aid Krishna in turning around, heading to the front of the aisle. Allowing Krishna to stand alone for a moment, she migrated over to where Phil lay in the Elephante's cell, seeming to just come to, rubbing his forehead. She held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Blinking hard and shaking his head, he looked directly at Mitsuko, a concerned look on his face.
"Suko. . .you look so. . .beat. . .did she. . .?"
"No. See for yourself." She gestured towards the twitching form in the middle of the cells. Phil gazed at it for a moment and then back to Mitsuko. He touched the side of her face affectionately. A deep urge came over her to tell him everything right then and there, needing to empty her soul out to somebody, desiring another to understand, almost finding it a duty to tell another. But he stopped her before she could talk, placing a finger on her lips, halting her speech.
"You don't have to tell me now, Mitsuko. You can tell me when you're ready. When you are, I'll listen without faltering. And. . .we can just. . .talk."
Their eyes met-the circumstances didn't exactly support an essentially romantic environment, but Mitsuko wasn't entirely familiar with the concept of 'romance,' so it mattered little. She could only know that she was more drawn to him than any other time in her life, wanting to move her face closer to his, just like they had that night in the kitchen. And so she did, hoping to better understand her feelings, hoping to better understand Phil's. This time, he did not pull away, and she found his finger slipping away from her lips, replaced by the soft flesh of his lips, warming hers. For that moment, that fact that Phil was flesh and she was metal mattered not-only that he was there, and so was she.
And that would be enough.
It was pitch dark outside when the company of four returned to their homes, clouds above blocking out all moonlight and stars, heavy enough to not even give a glimpse of the moon's brilliant rays. Krishna had absolutely collapsed on the journey back home (for they had been considerably far from their original town, Phil having to take on the burden of Krishna and Mitsuko that of Dr. Sloth, both which seemed unwilling to speak to the other), so they laid him down on the couch within Dr. Sloth's house, covering him with a blanket although it was warm outside.
Phil and Mitsuko alike had both suffered injuries-though it was difficult to say who had the greater. Phil had a large bump on the back of his head, coupled with a gash on that bump which needed to be disinfected and bandaged. Mitsuko needed framework repairs, which proved more extensive than Phil's physical cuts and bruises. While he tended with those by himself in the living room, Mitsuko helped Dr. Sloth, minus his wheelchair, for it had been far too heavy to carry, back to his lab, finding a spare, dusty old wheelchair in the back, though still functioning. Mitsuko helped him into the wheelchair, then sitting down as Dr. Sloth wheeled about to retrieve the proper tools to fix her with.
She was quiet at first-it was clear by Dr. Sloth's expression that he would be reluctant to talk about anything that had happened previously in the past day. As he began to work on her framework, however, the silence became too uncomfortable for even Mitsuko, and she cleared her throat, speaking.
"How long did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That I was. . .that you were my creator."
"Almost as soon as you came. I thought it was best that you remained oblivious though, so I pretended to not know-there was no reason to bring you back into the tangle of things." Dr. Sloth stopped speaking for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "So she told you, did she?"
"Yes."
"And you know about Krishna too, I suppose."
"Yes."
"Well.suppose those things would've happened sooner or later," sighed Dr. Sloth, pressing his lips together as he applied a particularly tough screw. "I'm sorry. . .if it caused you any mental trouble. I probably should've just told you straight out-you shouldn't've found out like that."
"No. . .I think. . .that you made a wise decision," said Mitsuko slowly.
"Maybe not. Now you have two personalities, you know-the one you developed a long time ago, and one that you developed in these past few years. You may find yourself being split between the two. . .and that can be very difficult indeed. Trust me-I should know," said Dr. Sloth, a regretful look on his face. "Two personalities. . .two histories."
"It's nothing that I can't handle."
"Of course," answered Dr. Sloth, not looking her in the eye, but nodding. "You were built to last-it shouldn't be an issue, should it?" He looked up at her and smiled sadly, then returned to his work on her framework.
". . .You miss her, don't you?"
"Who?"
". . .her."
"Well. . .yes. It was painful, at first-I disbanded all of my armies for her, to escape. But. . .they found out anyway, so it was pointless, and thus I descended to Neopia while chaos rained down on the cursed planet. But seeing her like that. . ." He fell silent, continuing his work, his face expressionless, Mitsuko unable to read his emotions. ". . .but she's not a problem anymore. . .the Swamp Ghouls will finish her. . .deteriorate and devour her soul. . .that's their food source, anyhow. . ." The muscles around his jaw tightened in soundless agony, straining his voice. She thought, for a moment, that he might cry, which would be odd indeed-but the excess moisture in his eyes did not breech the barrier of his eyelids.
"I remember something. . .something that I was supposed to deliver. . ." spoke Mitsuko, more to herself than to Sloth, staring off into the distance. Something nagged her in the back of her mind-the personality she had forgotten was beginning to find a grip of control over her current mind, and she submitted, figuring that her past would know what to do.
Instantly, her chest cavity opened without her willing. All that was within it clattered to the ground, surprising Dr. Sloth, making him wheel backwards. From the chest cavity, however, came a small device, shooting forwards from a robotic arm with the device attached to it. A whirring sound came from the device, as if it was a tape rewinding-and perhaps it was, for soon a light emitted from the device, displaying a hologram directly between her and Dr. Sloth, her eyes going dim from activating another program.
The hologram was of the Tahra that Mitsuko had seen within the Cell, a desperate look on her face, leaning forwards towards Dr. Sloth in the hologram. She was about a foot tall in the hologram, but by the look on Dr. Sloth's face, Mitsuko could guess that seeing her as she had been mesmerized him. He reached a hand forward, but when his hand touched nothing more than air, he brought it back instantly, coming back to reality. The hologram began to speak, sounding old and static-filled, the image flickering constantly.
"Frank. . .I don't know what's happening, but I'm leaving now-I'm going to try and meet you, but if I'm delayed, don't worry-take care of Rose until I get there, okay?" She reached her small hand forwards, a smile on her face. "Wait for me. . .I'll be there. . .I love you. . ."
The hologram faded into the air, Dr. Sloth staring into the blank space, his eyes unblinking. "But I waited. . .I waited for so long. . .but when you came. . ." The wrench that was in Dr. Sloth's hand clattered to the ground, his body seeming paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Mitsuko, regaining herself, the device retracting into her chest, looked over to Dr. Sloth, not entirely surprised, as Tahra had told her that she was a messenger of some sort. Dr. Sloth's expression, however, made her feel almost guilty for revealing the message to him.
"I'm sorry. . .." muttered Mitsuko, unsure of what else to say, backing up. Dr. Sloth shook his head, swallowing. He covered his face with one hand, waving Mitsuko away with the other, the color seeming to drain from his jade face.
"No, no. . .it's okay. I just need to be alone for a moment, okay?" Mitsuko nodded and departed the room, closing the door behind her, feeling a bit of worry for the doctor. The thoughts of Dr. Sloth diminished, however, as she found Phil in the living room, sitting alongside Krishna. He stood as she entered the room. Exchanging unspoken words with their eyes alone, effortless, as if they were connected mentally, the two left the boundaries of the house, soaring into the night's cool air, making lazy circles around one another. For the time being, they were two Shoyrus, organic or not, in love, courting flights a purely natural and acceptable thing.
As the moonlight began to show its pale face between the slowly parting clouds, the two Shoyrus descended to the ground, falling into the sand next to one another. Mitsuko was not fully healed, some of her framework still a bit battered and bruised, but she felt as if it were all healed within the warm presence of Phil. Although she was tired, it was of a good sort, allowing her to lean into Phil as support, support that she had never previously felt a need for. Now, it fell upon her like a tidal wave, making her feel vulnerable, dependent. It scared her a bit, making her hesitate to get too close to Phil. What would happen if she became too dependent, and he was suddenly pulled away?
Phil, seeming to sense Mitsuko's uncomfortable feelings, moved closer to her, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek, alighting the artificial reactions on that side of her face. Their faces were close, but Mitsuko refused to look into his eyes, instead looking downwards at his stomach. "Are you afraid?" he whispered into her ear, his tone tender and understanding.
"I. . .don't know. . .you. . .you were afraid at first. . .you never really told me why. . ."
Phil was quiet, staring intensely at Mitsuko for a moment, and then moved closer to her, pressing his lips against her forehead gently, to the side of the panel on her forehead. He nestled his chin on top of Mitsuko's head, and spoke, gazing over her head into the distance. "There's. . .more of a reason why I hate the RBT. . .more than just. . .because I don't like seeing sentient robots beat on one another. . .or any robots, for that matter." Mitsuko drew closer to him, her head against his chest, able to feel the beating of his heart throbbing against her artificial skin. She waited patiently for him to finish his story, closing her eyes slightly.
"A while back. . .when I was younger. . .I was apprenticed to an Acara who worked on robots for the purpose of the RBT. He had me work on one of my own. . .and so I made one that was a Shoyru, naturally. She was of poor make and framework, and certainly wasn't fit for battle, though I didn't know the difference, at the time. All I knew was that she was my playmate, sentient or not, the only one that I could talk to. Unfortunately, the RBT did eventually roll along. . .and since that was what she was made for, I thought nothing of entering her into the contest. She got pulverized, however. . .down in the first round, and ripped so much apart that I could barely recognize her anymore. I certainly couldn't fix her, and my master refused to help me. I was forced to bury her remains because of my ignorance. . .and I've never forgiven myself for entering her. . ."
Phil's voice sounded choked, as if he had something caught in his throat. Mitsuko was unsure of how to comfort him exactly, but lifted her head upwards and touched her cheek to his, secretly enjoying it herself as well. She felt warm water on his cheeks, tears coming from his eyes.
"I'll never abandon you, Phil," she promised, both to herself and Phil, not caring that she felt dependent, easily able to be harmed. Her feelings were simply too strong to ignore them anymore. "Just promise, again, that you'll never leave me. . ."
"I promise."
Mitsuko didn't remember how long they stayed out there, and when they finally headed back to Dr. Sloth's house, but she knew that it couldn't possibly have been long enough. Just pressing her body against Phil's was worth the whole world, and she would fight and destroy any foe to gain such a privilege. She was on top of the world, floating high above it, caught on a never-ending thermal, and she had no desire to land.
"You, as you have probably deciphered by now, were created by none other than Dr. Frank Sloth himself. A pet project of his, so to speak, long in the making-a sentient programming. Of course, he couldn't do it with merely a computer, so he used parts of a long-dead Shoyru's brain and incorporated it with mechanical programming. The Shoyru brain was naturally aggressive, and the programming was set to kill-a killing machine, so to speak, but able to reason and think in battle, thus giving it an advantage: superior strength and fighting abilities, as well as strategic thinking. He gave you a strikingly organic form, and then put you aside for a while as he came upon Neopia.
"Flash back a while back. A LONG while back, before you were even a thought in Frank's mind, before he became. . .well. . .before he became a so-called 'villain.' He and I were friends, I suppose you could call it- perhaps a bit more than that. Unfortunately, he was into the studying thing, whereas I preferred to slack off-I, however, was offered a job working for protecting Faerieland and Neopia. Needless to say, we grew apart, contacts breaking off-and for thousands of years, I hadn't seen the slightest of him. Of course, when he did come back, it was no better than him being away; for when he came back, in all of his dark glory, I was ordered to destroy him.
"But when it came right down to it. . .I couldn't do it. I couldn't manage to just. . .up and kill the one whom I had formerly had a relationship with. So I let him get away, hoping that he'd disappear once again. But he didn't. He stayed out of reach of Neopia and other conventional faeries for a while, but certainly not out of my reach. I was the Space Faerie, after all-space was mine to roam free. And so the. . .relationship that we had shared in those early years was rekindled, even as he invaded the Lost Desert. Of course, none of the faeries knew about it, because I would probably be executed if any of them found out. But for the time being I thought I was safe, if feeling a little strained.
"Seeing as I divided my time between guarding the atmosphere of Neopia from rogue evils and visiting him, it was natural that I was beginning to become exhausted quite easily. And so out of the dust, he pulled you as a sort of 'replacement' for me. Do you know your original name? It was Primrose-but I just called you Rose for short. You would guard Neopia while I subsequently went to visit him, thus allowing for more. . .personal time. You also could carry messages between the two of us when I had to physically stand guard against potential invaders.
"Unfortunately, the plan wasn't foolproof, and we knew this, and a need for an escape was becoming vital, especially since I had become pregnant, later having to deliver the child in private agony. So we planned my escape, leaving you behind to do my work-granted, we were a bit regretful for that, but we knew that you could handle the job well enough. It was a wonderfully orchestrated plan, but something went wrong.his plan screwed up, the plan that was supposed to be perfect. He said it would work and it didn't-he lied. They found out. . .Fyora, all the other wretched faeries. And, as I had known they would do, they punished me, destroying both me and you without hardly asking any questions. They took my newborn child and threw him down to the Earth to be an orphan, a stranger in a strange land.
"Of course, before they could destroy me completely, they allowed me to have one final request-and that was to be able to kill the one I was formerly willing to throw away my life for, the one that had made me lose everything consequently. Bleeding profusely and almost half dead, I found him and attempted to finish off his life-but I missed with my attack and instead snapped the bottom of his spine, rendering him legless, though I will admit the sound of his vertebrae cracking was terribly stimulating. I could not go on, and I died right then and there, allowing him to escape with the aid of only his arms.
"Sadly, Fyora hadn't counted on just how vital to the equation of Neopian safety I was. With both you and me gone from protecting Neopia from outside invaders, a whole lot of new evils decided to show their ugly faces- those ten times worse than they could've imagined a full-scale Sloth invasion. It rained chaos down on the surface of Neopia, radiation, plagues. . .all sorts of horrible things, decimating the population of humans and cutting the population of Neopets in half. By the time Fyora realized what she had eliminated to cause such catastrophe, having blamed it ignorantly on Sloth before, Faerieland as well fell to the invaders, corruption spreading throughout the cloud land.
"And Fyora, desperate to return faeriekind to its former grace, managed to find my corpse and resort to something that faeries had long since sworn they would never turn to-science. Knowing that she had to find some kind of guardian that had been just as effective as me, she hired a bunch of science faeries she had formerly exiled, desperate to bring myself back, somehow. They managed, through current robotics and, admittedly, some magic, to bring me back from a death I did not desire to leave-leaving me in this deformed, albeit powerful, state. And so, I returned to my position, at first, content for I knew I had little else anymore-a hatred was alighted in my breast for the former lover Frank Sloth, intense and unquenchable, the one who had caused my demise and unfortunate reincarnation.
"Soon, as the catastrophe died down, myself having eliminated all of the threats, no new ones arriving as the planet was worthless now, Neopia now a wasteland with sparse dots of population on major cities, such as Sakhmet and Neopian Central, I realized that I was fighting a battle for the very people who had brought about my slaughter. I was, in all essence, fighting the enemy. So I overthrew the monarchy. It wasn't difficult-a whole fleet of faeries is no match for metal and magic. Many learned that too slowly, and perished because of it-but soon Fyora stepped down to a lower position, allowing me to take control of the faerie population.
"And then, backed by an entire population of faeries, I had unlimited power. I began the RBT, in an effort to reclaim you, of course-I merely tested you with a clone of yourself in order to make sure that you were indeed the robot that I thought you were. Pure programming stands not a chance against a brain coordinated with a computer. I knew that you would eventually lead me to Frank-and thus, I would be able to end the root of the problem, thus solving the problem. And once this is completed, I will be content to once again slip into the peacefulness of death." A smug smile was plastered onto Tahra's face, confident. "Now-there's no reason for us to battle. We were friends once-we can still be such."
Tahra held out her hand in a gesture of peace and friendliness, an almost welcoming smile on her face, gentle, quite unlike the cruel countenances that had been displayed previously. A vague familiarity struck a chord in Mitsuko's mind, memories finding their way from the depths of her mind, striking her all simultaneously like so many bullets hitting her at once. Instinctively, she reached her hand towards Tahra's. Yes. . .she remembered. This was her owner, indeed, the one she had been given to. And. . .she had a message from her. . .to Frank. . .
But before Mitsuko could touch the tips of Tahra's fingers, the cyborg suddenly lurched, her entire body convulsing. Her one crimson eye grew wide, the smile melting from her face. Mitsuko stepped backwards as Tahra toppled forwards, seeming to lose all sense of herself, falling flat on her face. Mitsuko looked up, startled, to see Krishna directly behind Tahra, his hands gripping tightly to a metal pole, knuckles white, devoid of blood. His eyes were wide, pupils slowly dilating, as if he were gradually coming to himself. An angry look found its way onto his face as he looked down at the fallen cyborg.
"You. . .you're not my mother. . ." he hissed venomously, clenching the metal pole hard. "Who do you think you are. . .you. . .you. . ."
Mitsuko gathered herself, feeling a sense of disbelief. For a moment, she had been someone else-something else, rather, for she really wasn't a someone. She had been the robot that Tahra had been talking about, all of her memories temporarily returning, along with the old, more placid personality. Now, however, it seemed to all fade away into the background, the hardened Mitsuko personality returning, almost to her relief. To her, it was a sense of joy to see the Krishna she knew back, despite the angry look on his face. She moved over to him, touching him on the shoulder. He jerked towards her, as if he were about to hit her with the pole as well. Upon seeing she was Mitsuko, however, his muscles seemed to loosen. A weak smile pushed at the sides of his lips, his red eyes sparkling.
"Mitsuko. . .you have no idea what a relief it is to see you in tact. . .see you at all. . ."
"The same applies to you," answered Mitsuko, exchanging his smile. She looked down at the unconscious cyborg, feeling a shred of pity in her heart for a former owner she could not fully remember now. "Come on, we have to go now, though. . .the ghouls in The Cell will finish her. . ."
Just as Mitsuko mentioned the dreaded specters, their ghostly forms began finding their way out of the Cell, shadowflesh repaired, hands groping forwards. The Neopets shrieked and shrank back in their cages, no doubt memories of an encounter with one or the other flittering through their frenzied minds. The creatures from the Cell, however, took no interest in those they had already assaulted-instead, they flocked towards Tahra, lying on the ground helplessly. They shrouded her body with their dark and faded forms, seeming to merge into her, sinking into her body and disappearing. Instantly, her body began to seize as if in intense agony, twitching and twisting in a half-sleep.
"Swamp Ghouls. . .? Where did they come from. . .?" muttered Krishna tiredly. He looked down to his wrists blankly. ". . .shackles. . .I can remember. . .conversations. . ." A pained look flickered in his eyes. "At least. . .I know who my parents are now. . ." He seemed ready to faint, pressing his index fingers against his temples. Mitsuko offered a shoulder to the weary doctor, and he accepted it, wrapping his arm around Mitsuko's shoulder. With what remained of the Battle Faerie's blade, Mitsuko managed to slice through the shackles on Krishna's neck, wrists and ankles, discarding the now useless blade.
They both looked down at the cursed cyborg, only able to guess what she was experiencing. Krishna was the first to speak, his usually pink lips pale. "I heard. . .that she was my mother. . .the two people that I hated most in this world. . .ironic I suppose," he said with a weary smile. "They do say that most children have. . .parent-hating problems. . .perhaps. . .it's appropriate. . ."
"Perhaps," replied Mitsuko, not mentioning that the same applied to her. Instead, she began to aid Krishna in turning around, heading to the front of the aisle. Allowing Krishna to stand alone for a moment, she migrated over to where Phil lay in the Elephante's cell, seeming to just come to, rubbing his forehead. She held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Blinking hard and shaking his head, he looked directly at Mitsuko, a concerned look on his face.
"Suko. . .you look so. . .beat. . .did she. . .?"
"No. See for yourself." She gestured towards the twitching form in the middle of the cells. Phil gazed at it for a moment and then back to Mitsuko. He touched the side of her face affectionately. A deep urge came over her to tell him everything right then and there, needing to empty her soul out to somebody, desiring another to understand, almost finding it a duty to tell another. But he stopped her before she could talk, placing a finger on her lips, halting her speech.
"You don't have to tell me now, Mitsuko. You can tell me when you're ready. When you are, I'll listen without faltering. And. . .we can just. . .talk."
Their eyes met-the circumstances didn't exactly support an essentially romantic environment, but Mitsuko wasn't entirely familiar with the concept of 'romance,' so it mattered little. She could only know that she was more drawn to him than any other time in her life, wanting to move her face closer to his, just like they had that night in the kitchen. And so she did, hoping to better understand her feelings, hoping to better understand Phil's. This time, he did not pull away, and she found his finger slipping away from her lips, replaced by the soft flesh of his lips, warming hers. For that moment, that fact that Phil was flesh and she was metal mattered not-only that he was there, and so was she.
And that would be enough.
It was pitch dark outside when the company of four returned to their homes, clouds above blocking out all moonlight and stars, heavy enough to not even give a glimpse of the moon's brilliant rays. Krishna had absolutely collapsed on the journey back home (for they had been considerably far from their original town, Phil having to take on the burden of Krishna and Mitsuko that of Dr. Sloth, both which seemed unwilling to speak to the other), so they laid him down on the couch within Dr. Sloth's house, covering him with a blanket although it was warm outside.
Phil and Mitsuko alike had both suffered injuries-though it was difficult to say who had the greater. Phil had a large bump on the back of his head, coupled with a gash on that bump which needed to be disinfected and bandaged. Mitsuko needed framework repairs, which proved more extensive than Phil's physical cuts and bruises. While he tended with those by himself in the living room, Mitsuko helped Dr. Sloth, minus his wheelchair, for it had been far too heavy to carry, back to his lab, finding a spare, dusty old wheelchair in the back, though still functioning. Mitsuko helped him into the wheelchair, then sitting down as Dr. Sloth wheeled about to retrieve the proper tools to fix her with.
She was quiet at first-it was clear by Dr. Sloth's expression that he would be reluctant to talk about anything that had happened previously in the past day. As he began to work on her framework, however, the silence became too uncomfortable for even Mitsuko, and she cleared her throat, speaking.
"How long did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That I was. . .that you were my creator."
"Almost as soon as you came. I thought it was best that you remained oblivious though, so I pretended to not know-there was no reason to bring you back into the tangle of things." Dr. Sloth stopped speaking for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "So she told you, did she?"
"Yes."
"And you know about Krishna too, I suppose."
"Yes."
"Well.suppose those things would've happened sooner or later," sighed Dr. Sloth, pressing his lips together as he applied a particularly tough screw. "I'm sorry. . .if it caused you any mental trouble. I probably should've just told you straight out-you shouldn't've found out like that."
"No. . .I think. . .that you made a wise decision," said Mitsuko slowly.
"Maybe not. Now you have two personalities, you know-the one you developed a long time ago, and one that you developed in these past few years. You may find yourself being split between the two. . .and that can be very difficult indeed. Trust me-I should know," said Dr. Sloth, a regretful look on his face. "Two personalities. . .two histories."
"It's nothing that I can't handle."
"Of course," answered Dr. Sloth, not looking her in the eye, but nodding. "You were built to last-it shouldn't be an issue, should it?" He looked up at her and smiled sadly, then returned to his work on her framework.
". . .You miss her, don't you?"
"Who?"
". . .her."
"Well. . .yes. It was painful, at first-I disbanded all of my armies for her, to escape. But. . .they found out anyway, so it was pointless, and thus I descended to Neopia while chaos rained down on the cursed planet. But seeing her like that. . ." He fell silent, continuing his work, his face expressionless, Mitsuko unable to read his emotions. ". . .but she's not a problem anymore. . .the Swamp Ghouls will finish her. . .deteriorate and devour her soul. . .that's their food source, anyhow. . ." The muscles around his jaw tightened in soundless agony, straining his voice. She thought, for a moment, that he might cry, which would be odd indeed-but the excess moisture in his eyes did not breech the barrier of his eyelids.
"I remember something. . .something that I was supposed to deliver. . ." spoke Mitsuko, more to herself than to Sloth, staring off into the distance. Something nagged her in the back of her mind-the personality she had forgotten was beginning to find a grip of control over her current mind, and she submitted, figuring that her past would know what to do.
Instantly, her chest cavity opened without her willing. All that was within it clattered to the ground, surprising Dr. Sloth, making him wheel backwards. From the chest cavity, however, came a small device, shooting forwards from a robotic arm with the device attached to it. A whirring sound came from the device, as if it was a tape rewinding-and perhaps it was, for soon a light emitted from the device, displaying a hologram directly between her and Dr. Sloth, her eyes going dim from activating another program.
The hologram was of the Tahra that Mitsuko had seen within the Cell, a desperate look on her face, leaning forwards towards Dr. Sloth in the hologram. She was about a foot tall in the hologram, but by the look on Dr. Sloth's face, Mitsuko could guess that seeing her as she had been mesmerized him. He reached a hand forward, but when his hand touched nothing more than air, he brought it back instantly, coming back to reality. The hologram began to speak, sounding old and static-filled, the image flickering constantly.
"Frank. . .I don't know what's happening, but I'm leaving now-I'm going to try and meet you, but if I'm delayed, don't worry-take care of Rose until I get there, okay?" She reached her small hand forwards, a smile on her face. "Wait for me. . .I'll be there. . .I love you. . ."
The hologram faded into the air, Dr. Sloth staring into the blank space, his eyes unblinking. "But I waited. . .I waited for so long. . .but when you came. . ." The wrench that was in Dr. Sloth's hand clattered to the ground, his body seeming paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Mitsuko, regaining herself, the device retracting into her chest, looked over to Dr. Sloth, not entirely surprised, as Tahra had told her that she was a messenger of some sort. Dr. Sloth's expression, however, made her feel almost guilty for revealing the message to him.
"I'm sorry. . .." muttered Mitsuko, unsure of what else to say, backing up. Dr. Sloth shook his head, swallowing. He covered his face with one hand, waving Mitsuko away with the other, the color seeming to drain from his jade face.
"No, no. . .it's okay. I just need to be alone for a moment, okay?" Mitsuko nodded and departed the room, closing the door behind her, feeling a bit of worry for the doctor. The thoughts of Dr. Sloth diminished, however, as she found Phil in the living room, sitting alongside Krishna. He stood as she entered the room. Exchanging unspoken words with their eyes alone, effortless, as if they were connected mentally, the two left the boundaries of the house, soaring into the night's cool air, making lazy circles around one another. For the time being, they were two Shoyrus, organic or not, in love, courting flights a purely natural and acceptable thing.
As the moonlight began to show its pale face between the slowly parting clouds, the two Shoyrus descended to the ground, falling into the sand next to one another. Mitsuko was not fully healed, some of her framework still a bit battered and bruised, but she felt as if it were all healed within the warm presence of Phil. Although she was tired, it was of a good sort, allowing her to lean into Phil as support, support that she had never previously felt a need for. Now, it fell upon her like a tidal wave, making her feel vulnerable, dependent. It scared her a bit, making her hesitate to get too close to Phil. What would happen if she became too dependent, and he was suddenly pulled away?
Phil, seeming to sense Mitsuko's uncomfortable feelings, moved closer to her, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek, alighting the artificial reactions on that side of her face. Their faces were close, but Mitsuko refused to look into his eyes, instead looking downwards at his stomach. "Are you afraid?" he whispered into her ear, his tone tender and understanding.
"I. . .don't know. . .you. . .you were afraid at first. . .you never really told me why. . ."
Phil was quiet, staring intensely at Mitsuko for a moment, and then moved closer to her, pressing his lips against her forehead gently, to the side of the panel on her forehead. He nestled his chin on top of Mitsuko's head, and spoke, gazing over her head into the distance. "There's. . .more of a reason why I hate the RBT. . .more than just. . .because I don't like seeing sentient robots beat on one another. . .or any robots, for that matter." Mitsuko drew closer to him, her head against his chest, able to feel the beating of his heart throbbing against her artificial skin. She waited patiently for him to finish his story, closing her eyes slightly.
"A while back. . .when I was younger. . .I was apprenticed to an Acara who worked on robots for the purpose of the RBT. He had me work on one of my own. . .and so I made one that was a Shoyru, naturally. She was of poor make and framework, and certainly wasn't fit for battle, though I didn't know the difference, at the time. All I knew was that she was my playmate, sentient or not, the only one that I could talk to. Unfortunately, the RBT did eventually roll along. . .and since that was what she was made for, I thought nothing of entering her into the contest. She got pulverized, however. . .down in the first round, and ripped so much apart that I could barely recognize her anymore. I certainly couldn't fix her, and my master refused to help me. I was forced to bury her remains because of my ignorance. . .and I've never forgiven myself for entering her. . ."
Phil's voice sounded choked, as if he had something caught in his throat. Mitsuko was unsure of how to comfort him exactly, but lifted her head upwards and touched her cheek to his, secretly enjoying it herself as well. She felt warm water on his cheeks, tears coming from his eyes.
"I'll never abandon you, Phil," she promised, both to herself and Phil, not caring that she felt dependent, easily able to be harmed. Her feelings were simply too strong to ignore them anymore. "Just promise, again, that you'll never leave me. . ."
"I promise."
Mitsuko didn't remember how long they stayed out there, and when they finally headed back to Dr. Sloth's house, but she knew that it couldn't possibly have been long enough. Just pressing her body against Phil's was worth the whole world, and she would fight and destroy any foe to gain such a privilege. She was on top of the world, floating high above it, caught on a never-ending thermal, and she had no desire to land.