M4 hopped off the cart, looking back at the mountain range that had taken the better part of the last week to cross. Beside her, a small group of children followed suit, and after bidding the driver good fortune, they watched as the horses dragged the cart onwards down the dirt track through town.

What was she to do now? She didn't know where she was, or how she'd gotten there. She remembered brief flashes, faces that hovered over her as she awoke, talking about what to do with her. Yes, they'd sent her away with the cart, along with their children after she'd recovered enough to perform some rudimentary repairs to her system. It was like they'd never seen a doll before, curious faces watching as she'd performed the delicate procedures upon the gaping hole in her abdomen.

Even now, she was still aware that it was damaged, her self-diagnostic systems constantly bringing it to the attention of her neural cloud. It was irritating.

She pushed open the door to a nearby shop, the gilded lettering upon the window declaring it to be "Delphi". The interior seemed out of place for the small, dusty town, but she appreciated it nonetheless. It reminded her of home, in a way, with its clean metal-framed interior. The children followed her. She'd been told to look after them, she recalled. That was to be her payment for them taking care of her.

She sat down at the large table in the centre of the restaurant, the children finding their own places around it. A waitress, a tabby, cat-eared girl whose name tag called her "Kuroi" went about taking their orders. M4 had money, she remembered, digging around into her pouch to find the card that her rescuers had given her. She handed it to Kuroi, who took it back to the counter and returned moments later with their food.

M4 looked at the card. Assigning properties to an inanimate object was a very human thing to do, but it reminded her of something. The rifle, whose name she bore, now almost an extension of her body, slung over one shoulder. The cannon, that had been a gift from a dear friend, its weight pressing down upon her shoulders. And now, this card.

She didn't have a mission. Not right now. She wasn't suited for caring for children. She could barely keep SOP II in check on a good day. She was tired. Once again, everyone was gone.

She looked at the children, and something clicked in her mind. The villagers had sent her away, along with their children, their future. Humans were incredibly sentimental when it came to children, and she understood why. They were simultaneously extremely vulnerable, and completely necessary to the continued survival of humanity.

A group of men burst into the building. They were armed, and M4's hand rested uncomfortably against her weapon. They paused when they spotted the children, and she watched several pairs of eyes flicker between them, M4, and each other.

"Hey, are those…"

"Yeah. It's the brats from that village."

The children recoiled, afraid, as the men approached.

"Who are you?" M4 demanded. The men paused, eyeing her gun. She rested against her seat, prepared to attack if anything happened.

Evidently, their leader had the ability to count the number of men he had, which was five, and the number that M4 had, which was zero

"We're taking you all hostage," he announced, signalling to his men to round up the kids.

That was enough for M4. A bullet went through the leader's shin, knocking him to his knees. A second and a third went through the chest of the man who had been rounding the far end of the table. Letting her rifle fall to her side, she drove her fist into the chin of the nearest man, servos whirring as she delivered a blow that sent his head smashing into the ceiling. She kicked her chair into another, the wood shattering against his body as the men finally reacted.

One raised his submachine gun, and M4 grabbed it, its barrel crumbling in her grip. With her free hand she reached out to the leader, still sprawling on the ground, and grabbed his handgun, firing three shots into the last man. The man with the submachine gun released his grip, drawing a knife and lunging at her. She ducked under his strike, bashing him with his own mangled gun and forcing him back before finishing him off with a pair of shots from the pistol.

She turned on the man she had kicked her chair into, putting another pair of shots into him even as his eyes filled with fear. Finally she turned to the leader, who yelped as her gaze was brought down upon him. She pulled her mask over her face, the visage of a skeletal monster looming over him, one that had killed all of his men before he could even react.

"Why are you here?" she hissed. She'd have liked to growl, but her voice was just a little too soft to be intimidating. Guns, however, were not. "What do you want with these children?"

"We're after their village," the man stammered. A thug, a bully, unused to being put under pressure himself. "I just thought, you know, maybe some hostages would make things easier."

"Keep going."

"It's a village, just over the mountains. Nothing special, probably not even worth your tim-"

M4 shot his leg again. "Get out. The next time I see you, you will die."

Wincing with pain, the man forced himself to limp out the door and down the street. M4 checked the bodies. All five were dead. The children were alright, as was everyone else.

She turned to Kuroi, who almost jumped out of her skin when M4 spoke to her. "That village. How do I get back there?"

"Ah, maybe ask a guide?" Kuroi suggested as M4 pocketed the handgun, scavenging what equipment she could.

"Guide?" M4 pulled her mask back down around her neck.

Kuroi pointed to a pair that M4 was sure she hadn't seen when she'd come in. They hadn't appeared to notice anything that had just happened, either.

She nodded, tossing the card to Kuroi. "Find someone to look after them. Understood? I'll be back for them." Kuroi nodded, taking the card as she began to herd the children into another room.

M4 approached the two women at the booth. "I hear you two are guides?"