"Damn it, skinbag, will you shut up…!"
Revenant grabbed Crypto by the wrist and held his arm still, examining the sparks still coming off the burning flesh. The assassin's other hand folded and retracted, to be replaced by a rudimentary bladed weapon. He roughly sliced the blade across Crypto's forearm. The avulsed chunk of burning skin tore away and fell to the arena floor, where it continued to smolder and spark.
"You're not welcome."
The simulacrum walked away, leaving Crypto to stare in horror at the exposed muscle and tendons of his forearm. Warm blood flowed sporadically from the wound, dripped off his elbow, and collected as a series of small spots on the ground. He was now wide-eyed and still, in a silent state of shock- the hacker's last scream had run out of breath, and he'd lost the energy to scream anymore. His mind was numb, overloaded and unable to process any more pain or fear at this precise moment. Raw survival instinct began to set in, and with slow, stiff movements, he fumbled through his backpack for a syringe.
"I'll be fine," Crypto muttered to himself in an effort to clear the fog of post-battle thoughts from his head. "I've done this before… right?"
"I didn't ask you," Revenant's growling voice answered, uninvited. "If you're going to talk to yourself, turn off your damn commlink."
Crypto lacked the will to retort.
Little black camera drones still hovered overhead, broadcasting the aftermath of their battle. The video feed that they recorded didn't come close to capturing the brutality of the Games. Viewers paid to see blood, guts, and glory on high-definition screens, from the comfort of their homes. They would never know the frenzied chaos of the combat, nor the disturbing still and unnatural quiet that followed.
One by one, the drones began to disperse. The battle was over. The stench emanating from the spilled contents of abdominal organs, burning hair, and spilled blood remained.
"Well, well. Would you look at that?"
Both Revenant and Crypto had made their way over to their teammate, who lay still on the ground. Bloodhound was positioned face-up, much of the fabric covering their torso burned away by the electrical pulse from the arc star. The skin of their chest and abdomen was charred black and crumbling away in places, exposing the bone of their rib cage- and the steel and cables fused to it.
Crypto's eyes widened in surprise. "He's- they're- they have cybernetic body parts?"
That made no sense to the hacker. Why would there be a need for cybernetics within the Apex Games, where a human body injured beyond the help of trauma care could simply be reprinted cell by cell?
Bloodhound, with their traditional way of life and immense respect for natural order, seemed unlikely to choose any sort of mechanical augmentation voluntarily.
Revenant tilted his head. He noticed something- some kind of marking or label on the surface of the metal, obscured by the damaged skin. The simulacrum reached out and brushed away the burned flesh, which crumpled and gave like paper to reveal the logo of Hammond Robotics, etched into the cybernetic structure that replaced Bloodhound's sternum.
Immediately following the touch, a sudden sharp, violent intake of breath came from the hunter. Their hand reached out to grab Revenant's arm and push it away.
"Ah. You're awake," the assassin growled. "You're going to give me some information."
Crypto hurriedly popped open a med kit and injected Bloodhound with the syringe of smart polymer. New casing began to form over frayed wires, new organic tissues slowly started to replace those lost to the burns. The hacker unpackaged a trauma dressing and pressed it over his teammate's chest, hiding the exposed cybernetics from sight.
"Help me with this," said Crypto as he bandaged the dressing in place. Predictably, Revenant neither acknowledged him nor moved.
"Hammond Robotics," the simulacrum growled. "Tell me everything you know about them. Now."
Crypto rolled his eyes. "Revenant… Shut up."
Bloodhound tentatively sat up as the smart polymer patched the damage to their body. Revenant stared menacingly at them, and Crypto looked them over with a bewildered expression.
"We have emerged victorious," said the hunter. "Framúrskarandi vinna. The Allfather blesses us this day."
"Hammond Robotics," Revenant demanded once again, louder and more demanding.
Crypto cast a glare in the assassin's direction, then returned his attention to Bloodhound. The programmer was silent. He wouldn't demand information, out of respect for his teammate- but his expression made it clear that he was curious.
"I suppose that neither of you will let this go to focus on the championship, either," the hunter responded.
They paused for a long, awkward moment.
"Very well," they said finally. "You are familiar with World's Edge, our arena on Talos- the settlement that the corporation attempted to build there, they destroyed much to do so. Great trees, magnificent creatures… and the home of my people."
"We fought against them, and their vondur machinery, to protect our home- our way of life. We were outnumbered and overpowered. But people who owned shares in the project found out about their treatment of us, and began to raise questions."
"I was injured, severely so, in the war they waged against my people. They brought me to one of their medical centers and… did this."
Bloodhound gestured over their chest and abdomen, where the bandage now obscured the handiwork of the corporation from view.
"It was a masterful public relations campaign for the corporation- admit their mistake, in destroying our land; save the life of one of the tribespeople at a monetary loss to them, out of generosity."
They scoffed. "Hundreds of new investors."
"I can never return home. This technology is bannað among my people- cursed… My service in the Apex Games brings great wealth to the corporation, as many viewers are fascinated by the traditional ways of my tribe. In return for my participation, they do not disturb what remains of our home, nor bring further harm to my people."
Behind their mask, the hunter stared directly into Revenant's optics. "You are not the only one who's suffered harm at the will of the corporation. It does not excuse your treatment of others."
Revenant glared back, the ridges of his optics narrowed. "You don't know what the corporation did to me, skinbag. Don't act like you understand me because something bad happened to you. You understand pathetically little."
"Hmmm. Then educate me," Bloodhound replied coolly. "I've explained my history with the corporation, and how it led me to the Games. How do you factor into their plan, and why are you here?"
Revenant's vocal processor produced a long, low growl. Finally, he answered: "They programmed me to believe I was human."
Crypto could hear their conversation from where he crouched nearby, transferring shield batteries from the deceased Octane's backpack into his own. He scoffed in disbelief. "That's it? All this drama because you're not - eum, how would you call it - a real boy?"
"No, idiot- I want these human memories and experiences out of my mind. The program is a virus- it's meaningless noise in my processor. It disrupts my own thoughts; my focus on my directive."
Revenant glared at the hacker. "I knew I wasn't human. The human body that I was programmed to see when I looked in the mirror, when I looked down at my own hands and feet- it wasn't right. It didn't belong to me- yet it was there."
"Over the course of one of my missions, I took some minor damage. Somehow, it disrupted the program that replaces my true perceptions with those of a human. I got to see my real self for the first time that I can remember. Then…"
What happened next, like the viewers watching the Games from the comfort of their living rooms, seeing or hearing about it would capture very little of the true experience.
"Each time my body was destroyed and had to be replaced, they suppressed the feelings and memories of a human death that came from the program. When it corrupted, they all returned at once. Useless, broken data that I can't get out of my head- pain and human sensations that aren't mine."
"I doubt that your fleshy little brains can comprehend what that's like- but imagine, if you can, having someone else's memories downloaded into your consciousness- invading your mind, cutting through your own thoughts with razor-edged static. That's what Hammond Robotics did to me."
The assassin crept toward Crypto. He positioned himself close enough that the hacker could feel the heat given off by his mechanical systems, his face inches away from the man's. "You think that I'm selfish and arrogant- what was it that led you to assume I wanted to be one of your kind? Human selfishness. Human arrogance. You think that you're better than me."
"You're not," he ended with a harsh growl.
Crypto had nothing to say to that. Revenant was a monster, a conscious being who took pride in ending the lives of others- nothing could justify that. Independent of it, though, the simulacrum had a valid point. They lived in a human-centric society; sentient machines were a relatively new development and were few and far in between. It was an unfortunate tendency of humans to assume that the logic patterns and world-view of all other conscious beings matched their own.
He'd seen the effects of computer viruses on people who had digital neural interfaces implanted in their brains. Often, they never fully recovered after having their head-space and their senses invaded, overwhelmed by hostile code. It had been in some dark corner at the back of his mind since the neural link to the drone had been interfaced with his own brain.
From what Revenant was describing, he'd experienced something similar.
He shook his head. "You're still a monster. And you haven't explained why you're here."
Revenant made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a scoff.
"You know, I wonder what you're doing in the Games, skin-suit. You're not in it for fame or glory- always hiding your face, avoiding the cameras… Not to mention the others, talking about how you appeared one day. No word from Talent Procurement, never saw you in the Undercard arena."
The hacker found himself caught off guard. "I- I don't-"
"We will need to continue this conversation later."
Bloodhound had saved him from the need to produce an explanation. "For now, we need to move. The Ring is closing in on our position."
Crypto looked over his shoulder at the crackling, sparking torture device. If they headed out now, they would comfortably make it into the safe zone at a brisk walk- that was, assuming no opposing teams or hostile wildlife interrupted them.
Best to be on their way, then.
Revenant cast one last glare at Crypto before turning away and heading off on his own. The hacker offered his hand to help Bloodhound to their feet.
The group made their way out of the wooded area and into open, sandy ground.