It was the strangest thing, but she felt compelled to follow his every word; as if she were nothing but a doll, a puppet, controlled by the marionette stick. He could give her the simplest commands, then something in her mind would click, and she would carry them out without complaint.
"Robots," she thought, "act like this." But did it work this way for the other girls?
During shooting practice, she could see Triela on the other side of the range with her G3A3 rifle. Hilshire stood there, telling her something, and she would scoff and ignore his instructions as if they were useless. "It doesn't work like that with Sandro and me," she mused, her brows furrowed as she frowned, perplexed.
She began to wonder if it was because Triela didn't like Hilshire. But I do not feel that much affection for Sandro, either. Yet I still function differently. Why?
By the end of the day, none of it really mattered, although she could never deny the questions that loomed in the back of her mind.