Chapter VI:
Guided by Angels
One last act of mercy from Anemone allowed the trio to leave the Resistance Camp without having to fight their way out. Had the twins not successfully stabilized that mechanic, she likely would not have been quite as merciful. Anemone herself claimed the decision would be her attempt to honor 2B's memory. As if she knew the first thing about commemorating memories.
9S found himself sitting in a deep pool of water. He retreated inside what was likely once a basement area hidden well beneath a ruined skyscraper. The chamber was flooded up to his ankles. Water flowed in from the streets outside due to an opening in one of the walls.
The room was pitch-black. Devola had the rather ingenious idea to swipe a flashlight from the camp while they were gathering what little they possessed. She was generous enough to allow him to borrow it while he was down there. A hefty light that could easily double as a club if need be. It was, however, not the only item she lent to him.
He held a small knife in his right hand. It was covered in his own blood. With the task already complete, he rinsed it off in the water. 9S then placed it in his lap and used that same hand to shine a light on it. He inspected it for any remaining traces of blood. It was perfectly clean. With that task complete, he aimed the light to his left palm and admired his handiwork.
It was unclear what compelled him to mutilate himself in such a manner. In the flesh of his palm, he carved a familiar symbol. The oddly detailed illustration depicted two android heads. Twin heads conjoined into one. A row of three eyes decorated their largely blank faces. Blood seeped from each perfectly carved cut. He was impressed by his own ability to draw such a complicated insignia with such unconventional means.
For once in a very long time, 9S felt a bit of pride. This was how to truly honor a memory. Forevermore, this symbol would be a part of him. An eternal reminder that Heaven's cherubs smiled down on him and laughed with him.
He felt no pain when slicing the symbol into his flesh. Perhaps that too was the cherubs' doing.
He wanted to go further. To add even more detail. 9S searched for a way to give them wings. He wanted to include hair or perhaps even flowers. To give this drawing of faceless twins a likeness akin to that of Devola and Popola. Unfortunately, there simply was not enough space in his hand. He most certainly did not want to ruin what was already perfect by adding needless detail.
The troubled android picked himself up out of the water and slipped on his glove to conceal the 'wound.' He then picked Cruel Oath up from the large block of fallen concrete which he previously used as a table. His gold-tinted blade was still painted in that mechanic's blood. He was not allowed to keep the man's arm so this blood would have to be his trophy instead.
9S went back the way he came. He only waded a short distance through the water before something stopped him.
"There's something in the water…"
A voice. It came to him in a whisper. A feminine tone. It sounded somewhat playful, but that jovial tone did not make the unexpected experience any less frightening. The boy froze in place. Water abruptly splashed about from behind him. The implications of the sound he heard were obvious. Someone ran through it and closed in on him.
Instinctively, he span around and shined the light into the darkness beyond. Nobody was there. He was still all alone in this desolate place. He looked down at the surface of the water. A column of tiny ripples expanded outward in a line. There may not be anyone here, but something or someone disturbed the water.
One thing was certain. It was high time for him to leave.
9S found the twins exactly where he left them. They huddled together near a wall. The duo took shelter as far removed from any openings as possible. It was still not enough. There was no decent shelter to be found here. Their heads hung low to avoid the onslaught of rain that flew in from all angles.
He peered outside. The city was being ravaged. Tropical winds outright destroyed many of the makeshift walls and barricades set up by the resistance. Dangerous debris flew about wildly. Torrential rain flooded the roads.
He looked back at the twins. It would appear that his intervention left them far worse off than if he were to have done nothing. He handed Devola's tools back in silence, carefully evading eye contact with her.
"Oh, I almost forgot," she spoke out as she liberated the items from his grasp. "The reason we left that room you gave us in the first place…"
Devola stood up and took out a small flower from her pocket. A flower identical to the ones which adorned her and her sister's hair. 9S gave it a puzzled glare. It was obvious he had no idea what to do with the thing. Devola rolled her eyes. She held the flower up and without bothering to ask for permission, fastened it to his hair.
"There," Devola announced with a sly grin. "Now, you don't look so needlessly intimidating. We wanted to give it to you sooner, but the storm set in, and... well, we just forgot."
He recoiled back and prodded it. After a second or two, 9S relented and allowed the thing to remain in his hair. An act that surprised Devola. He left the flower alone and shambled away to find a space for himself.
Devola approached one of the nearby windows. 9S was content with simply staring at his own boots until he heard her call out over the whistling gales.
"Is that a funnel cloud!?"
Popola swiftly rose to her feet. She rushed over to the wall and peered outside. 9S watched from the shadows as the two began pointing out the formations to each other.
"I see another one on the left," Popola exclaimed. "And another… over there!"
"There's so many," claimed Devola. "You don't see that very often. Especially not around these parts."
Popola shook her head. "Regardless, we should find a better shelter."
"I don't wanna go back out there," Devola whined.
"Sister, we've counted five… no… six funnels forming and they are all alarmingly close. We should strongly consider finding a more suitable shelter in case they touch ground."
"But where else are we gonna go?"
As the twins debated the possibilities among themselves, 9S's attention was drawn to the road outside. He peered through a hole in the wall. It was hard for him to see anything with all that rain swirling around. He wondered how those two could see such formations under these conditions.
His curiosities soon fell quiet the moment something peculiar entered his view. 9S spotted a shifting shadow from somewhere within the relentless rain. He felt an unexplainable urge to head out there. To travel in one particular path as if here being guided by forces unseen. Rather than fight or so much as question it, 9S obeyed his instinct.
"Follow me," the scanner called out.
The twins looked his way. They seemed confused, but he kept on moving without explaining. The girls followed him out nonetheless.
Upon leaving that sorry excuse for a shelter, 9S was greeted by a wind that nearly threw him on his back. He stabbed Cruel Oath into the broken asphalt all to keep his balance. He gritted his teeth and pushed forward. It was clear to him that something was attempting to guide him somewhere and he had a good idea as to whom it might be. The cherubs would surely not lead him astray.
Debris flew at them at horrifying speeds. One sharp sheet of metal came uncomfortably close to outright decapitating him. He threw himself onto the ground. A gust of wind pushed him even further back but he was able to cling to a crevice in the concrete and stand back up. He twirled around just to ensure that the twins were still with him. They were a small distance behind and they dodged the oncoming sheet of metal far better than he could.
"Why are we headed to the coast," one of them yelled at the top of their lungs. "That's the worst place we could possibly be right now!"
Explaining it to them under such extreme conditions was a waste of time. He did not bother answering. He kept moving despite their warnings. Further down the path, the three were forced to come to a stop. A massive tree had been completely uprooted and was practically carried across the ground by a cyclonic gale.
Obstacle after obstacle would work to slow their progress, yet slowing them down was all these challenges achieved. Somehow, by some divine miracle, they reached the exact place that 9S would soon claim as their home for the foreseeable future.
Wrathful waves crashed against the wall of abandoned buildings and roads which played the role of a de facto seawall. Explosions of water and sea foam erupted throughout the flooded city.
The trio passed by several worthy shelters yet 9S ignored them all in favor of a dark, lonely ruin that overlooked the ocean. A structure far removed from the usual areas patrolled by the resistance. They staked their claim on the thirteenth floor. An expansive room, lit up reasonably well by the outside ambiance, would from then on become their living space. At least, that was the assumption the twins made as it was the one place 9S led them to.
Thus far, Devola's flashlight continued to prove its worth. The building was massive in scale and left in reasonable condition compared to its neighbors. As a result, natural light was not allowed in most areas of the structure. Many of the hallways likely have not been exposed to light in eons. The darkness of the sky did not help these matters.
Upon finding the desired room, 9S leaned against a wall near the entrance and slid to the floor. Devola and Popola claimed their own corner of the chamber. He finally relinquished his tight hold on Cruel Oath. The blood-soaked sword laid on the cracked concrete. Blood dripped rhythmically from the blade's edge.
For the longest time, no one said a word. 9S focused on the sound of rain slamming against the walls outside. Eventually, Devola broke the silence.
"Thank you."
9S glanced up only to find her eyes locked on him. He did not respond.
"So, what do we do, now," Devola inquired.
9S assumed she was speaking to her sister so he kept quiet and stared down at his gore-coated sword. Droplets of rainwater steadily slid down the locks of his bangs and dripped into his lap. They matched the rhythm of the blood that drizzled from his sword.
"Nines?"
Only then did he stir from his recollection. "Huh?"
"Where do we go from here? You got a plan?"
9S shook his head. "Do whatever you want. I don't actually expect you to help me with anything. I only said that to shut those worms up."
"And if we want to continue traveling with you," asked Popola.
"Like I said, whatever you want."
"Hey," Devola abruptly announced. "You're bleeding."
Confused by her unexpected observation, 9S examined himself. She approached and knelt down by his left side. She carefully reached for his left arm. His stomach sank. His left glove was as drenched in blood as his sword. He wondered how she managed to notice it from across the room. Then he remembered that both of his chosen companions were healers. He suddenly realized how foolishly pathetic his attempt to hide his 'artwork' was.
"It's fine," he hissed. He tried and failed to pull away from her. "Just leave it alone."
"Stop squirming," Devola snapped. She held on firmly to his wrist and yanked his glove off.
At that point, 9S gave up the struggle. He merely gritted his teeth and turned away. She examined his hand. He could almost feel the moment when she realized the shape and nature of his wound. Popola approached from behind her and took a closer look at his hand.
"Oh, my," Popola murmured. "Why would you do this? What is that?"
"Is this why you wanted my knife," Devola asked harshly.
9S glared back at her. His eyes remained well concealed behind his visor, but the frustrated frown did not go unnoticed by her. She rolled her eyes and reached for the knife in question. She released his hand only to then slice off a sliver of her long shirt.
The act caught 9S off guard. "Don't…"
"What? We don't have any bandages and this needs to be covered."
Devola took his hand and wrapped the cloth over the suspicious symbol. She tightened the makeshift bandage before tying it off. At long last, she relinquished ownership of his arm.
"Sorry I don't have anything to clean it with. We'll just have to keep an eye on it. Now, care to explain where it came from?"
The boy said nothing. Instead, he watched as Popola moved over to his right side. She then reached down and picked up Cruel Oath.
"What are you doing?"
Popola looked down at him. Studying him. She then examined the blade from hilt to tip. The straight-haired sibling knelt down to reach his level. She handed him the sword.
"I want you to clean it," she informed flatly.
His initial look of confusion was soon swept away by a sadistic grin. "Why? I think it looks better with a fresh coat of paint."
Popola grimaced. "Clean it," she repeated more sternly. "...Please."
9S decided not to test her patience. He snatched the sword out of her grasp and stormed out of the room.
The task of finding a puddle deep enough to be useful was not exactly a challenging one given the current weather. 9S found a decently sized puddle and decided to put it to use. He endured the winds and sat down in the water. He stabbed his sword into the gravel and allowed the rain to do the work for him.
As the blood gradually washed away, 9S yanked off his visor. He made sure to double-check his surroundings, ensuring neither Devola nor Popola was around to see him expose his eyes. With that taken care of, he spent a moment staring at his own reflection. It shimmered each time a drop of rain landed in the puddle.
The flower given to him by Devola remained defiantly in place. He figured it would have been blown away by the wind, yet it stayed just as she left it. He poked one of the white petals but ultimately made no effort to remove it.
Slowly but surely, the once clear water turned as vivid a red as his own eyes. Clouds of blood filled the water around the sword. Soon, his reflection would be lost behind the darkness of the gore. Eventually, all that remained visible was the hellish hue of his eyes and the dark blood that consumed the water.
The reason for his eye color may very well remain a mystery to him. Both he and his pod attempted to find a cause, yet always came up with nothing.
The entire time he sat out there, he wondered why he even bothered obeying Popola's request. He had far more pressing matters to worry about. Mattes that did not involve either of those twins. Yet despite the obvious motivation to simply ignore them, or abandon them entirely, 9S remained seated. He left only after the task was complete.
9S returned to find Popola waiting for him. She held out her hand. Without the need to hear it for himself, 9S knew what she wanted. Reluctantly, he relinquished his sword to her. She took a moment to analyze it. She checked each side of the blade as well as the hilt for any traces of blood. After finding nothing, she flashed him a melancholic smile and lowered the sword. She held it out, allowing it to rest on both hands as if she were presenting it to him.
There was no hesitation. 9S reached forward to take it from her and never let her have it again. However, at the last second, Popola pulled back. 9S harshly glared at her in bewilderment.
"Do you feel it?"
9S tilted his head at her. "Feel what?"
"Guilt, 9S. Do you feel even a shred of it?"
"No."
"Regret?"
"I regret not taking his other arm."
Popola sighed and lowered her gaze to the golden sword in her grasp. She looked as though she were debating with herself over what to do next. Apparently, a conclusion was soon reached.
"Whatever you do with it is your decision. Just know that actions like these tend to carry grave consequences."
9S furrowed a challenging brow at her. "Such as?"
"Well, for one thing, we are stuck out in this storm. It's nothing I intend to hold against you if for no other reason than because you helped my sister. However, there's a more pressing result of your violent outburst. You have lost access to the terminal that can display those memories we collected."
Devola interjected from across the room. She looked on with her usual scowl as she spoke. "That YoRHa boy mentioned a support pod could probably play them back for you. So, you can either make nice with that pod of yours, or better yet, you can stop this wild goose chase for good."
Popola took a step closer. She held out the sword once more for him to take, but 9S was not so quick to try and grab it this time.
"Of course, we can't stop you, but whatever you decide, I'm sure my sister and I will be there to witness the results. For better or worse. So, do understand if we try to steer you towards a better outcome."
Slowly, 9S reached for his sword. He wondered if she would pull the same stunt as before. He did not take his eyes off of her. She smiled back at him. Why she seemed so happy at that moment was beyond him. An odd behavior but nothing more. He finally reclaimed his sword, yet once more he was stopped from taking it from her. She wrapped her fingers around his, holding his hand in place.
9S shot another glare at her. A somewhat flustered look.
"Please take it from us," Popola concluded. "I know you want your memories more than anything. However, if you keep down this path. If you continue hurting people and insist on siding with monsters, then the only thing you will receive in return is retribution."
Popola unraveled her fingers, freeing both him and his blade. He quickly cleared some distance between himself and her. He held up his sword and admired its golden luster. Her warning echoed in his mind as he caught a glimpse of his own reflection.
9S lowered the weapon and promptly stormed off back the way he came.
"Where are ya headed, now," asked Devola.
"Just wait here," he muttered. "I'm going to get my pod. I'll be back later."
9S promptly left the twins behind. Only after his echoing footsteps left earshot did Devola speak out again.
"Guess he made his choice. That kid's gone completely insane."
"I don't agree."
Devola blinked in utter shock at her sister's comment. "What!? Have you gone crazy too!? You saw it, didn't you!? That weird symbol he cut into his hand? It looked like some demonic incantation! You have to have a few screws loose to do something like that to yourself."
"Oh, I agree. It's certainly concerning."
"Concerning is one way of putting it, sis. I'd go for horrifying, myself, but that's just me."
Popola shook her head. "I think there's still a sliver of sanity swimming around in that troubled head of his. Only a hunch, but I suspect as much. I also suspect that there is something else going on here."
"Meaning?"
"There's something foul following him around. Something sinister. Maybe you have sensed it yourself. I cannot quite find the words to explain it, but something is going on here. Some extra piece of this puzzle that has yet to be quantified."
"Maybe that Amos guy knows something," said Devola. "I remember a lot of the stuff humans discovered about the Legion made them out to be kinda… uh… otherworldly."
Popola grimaced. The mere mention of that name was enough to agitate her. "Perhaps. Or maybe he's part of the problem. Either way, it will have to wait. I'm not ready to deal with him right now."
"Oh, no rush," Devola replied. She laughed nervously and ran her fingers through her hair. "That dude was scary. And without magical weapons, he'd wipe the floor with us. Then again, with how well he got along with Nines, we may not have to fight him. Maybe he'll tell us what we need to know if we ask nicely."
"I wouldn't count on that one, sis."
Suddenly, Popola stepped toward the exit. Devola waved frantically and called out to her.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"I was going to fetch my diary," Popola replied.
"Why? That thing's totally ruined. We had to throw it out, remember?"
"Maybe we can dry it out and decipher something from it. Who knows? That symbol might actually be in there. I'll be back as soon as possible. Wait here in case 9S returns before I do. Also, you got a better look at that symbol than I did. Could you find something to recreate it with? I'd rather not have to keep asking 9S to see his hand. I'd rather him not even know what we're up to for now."
Devola responded with a long, exhaustive sigh. She leaned back against the wall and stared up at the dark ceiling. "Just don't wind up like him."
Popola gave her sister a reassuring wink. "I won't. Promise!"
9S had to hike well across the ruins, closer to the Resistance Camp to locate the building he desired. He quietly scaled the winding stairs until he reached the top floor. He kicked open the door and stepped outside. There was barely a ceiling overhead. Most of the roof had fallen away. Rubble surrounded him but there was a clearing on the floor ahead. There was no one to be seen. Perhaps they had taken shelter deeper inside.
Irritably, he spun around and returned to the floor just below the top. It was in far better condition. It provided real shelter from the elements. 9S checked a few of the rooms. The darkness was a challenge to deal with. Had he have been thinking clearly, he would have asked to borrow Devola's flashlight again. He soon came to a large chamber. In the middle of the floor. It was there where he found her.
The corpse of an android which he could recognize any time, any place, anywhere. Her black clothes were much akin to his own. YoRHa issue. Her hair was as silver as his own and not much longer. Black feathers lined her long, white gloves. A visor concealed her eyes, but unlike his own, hers did not inexplicably turn a vile red during the repair process. As far as he knew, they were still the standard, crystal clear, blue that all YoRHa models were given.
He could not help but smile just a little upon seeing her resting at his feet. He approached cautiously and took a look around. Tools and various parts were left scattered along the floor around her. It did not take long for his presence to be discovered.
A light shined on him from behind. 9S turned to face it. Two support pods floated a fair distance behind him. 042 switched off his light likely after realizing who had stumbled into their little headquarters.
"Pod 042 to Unit 9S. Please state your intentions of returning to this location."
"I'm here to retrieve my pod."
153 obediently floated towards him. She almost seemed to be in a hurry, as if she were anticipating a moment just like this, or perhaps she was simply hoping for one. "How can this support unit be of assistance?"
9S hesitated. His cynical gaze fell back down on the corpse. His curiosity over the matter grew.
"How much longer?"
153 seemed perplexed but 042 responded swiftly, understanding exactly what 9S was referring to.
"YoRHa Unit 2B's repairs have been completed. I am currently running further tests before reactivation is attempted. The tests will be lengthy. At this point, there is no estimated time for reactivation."
9S shrugged and turned away from 2B's lifeless form.
"Whatever. Anyway, pod. I'm working on a little project. Due to a… situation that unfolded at the Resistance Camp, I'm unable to access the data I need. That's where you come in. I hate to employ you of all people. I've got enough to worry about without having to keep an eye on a snake like you, but I need you to display the data for me."
153 ignored the insult and focused on the task at hand. "What sort of data do you need to access?"
"Memories. You know… like the ones you stole from me? I've secured a bunch of files. All I need from you is to play them back for me on that projector of yours. Can you do that?"
"Affirmative. This support unit would be glad to assist you in any way you need."
For quite a while, 9S simply stared at her. A boiling hatred that he did not do a very good job of hiding. The quiet interval soon unnerved the little robot. She felt the need to break it.
"How are Units Devola and Popola? Are you still traveling with them?"
"They're fine and they're still with me. For whatever reason."
The pod thought on what next to say. Anything at all to kill this uneasy air would do.
"Have you informed them of the reason behind their repairs yet?"
9S shifted about uncomfortably. "No! No, I have not! Nor do I have any intention of doing so."
"Explaining the motive would be the best means of..."
"SHUT UP!"
Coils of lightning illuminated 9S's wrathful visage. An aggressive wave of thunder was not far behind them.
"None of that matters anymore! The only thing that matters, the only thing, is getting my memories back and I think I found a roundabout way to do just that!"
"Units Devola and Popola would surely be overjoyed to hear that…"
The boy's fit of anger devolved further. She would not be allowed to finish her thought. He reached forward and grabbed hold of his pod. He yanked her from the air and brought her in close. He had to reassure himself that she would hear his next order, loud and clear.
"You're going to help me with my new project. Nothing else matters! You're also not going to utter a damn word to either of those twins about their repairs or my eyes! Do I make myself clear!?"
"...Affirmative."
"Also," 9S continued, tightening his grip around 153. "I made a new friend recently. You'll meet him soon enough. He doesn't talk much, but I expect you to follow his orders just as you do mine, got it?"
153 tried to free herself, but 9S held her in place. She quickly relented.
"Affirmative."
9S could have sworn he felt the automaton tremble in his grasp. He was swift to shrug off a growing tinge of guilt.
"Pod… I'm making a mistake by trusting you with this. I know I am, so I'll warn you right here and right now. Prove me right and I'll break your little arms off and beat you to death with them!"
The wrathful android would have continued his rant, but a distinct sound from across the room caused him to pause. The distinct sound of a support pod charging up a laser. 9S stared daggers at Pod 042. The floating box did not back down.
"Pod 042 to Unit 9S. Release Pod 153 immediately. Further abuse of said support unit will not be tolerated."
9S obeyed the demand. He threw 153 across the room. She slammed into a wall before managing to catch herself in the air.
"Are you aiming at me again," asked 9S. "Do you want a rematch!? I'll gladly oblige, but don't expect me to be so merciful this time!"
"Nor should you expect the same from me," 042 defiantly replied. The pod's confidence only proved to further enrage 9S.
The boy took the first step toward his adversary. He yanked off his visor. He would not need it to dispatch a mere support pod. "I'm gonna beat the sentience out of you!"
Before such a brawl could begin in earnest, Pod 153 floated in between them. Both opposing sides halted their advance out of nothing more than reflex. She extended her claws toward 9S. A calming gesture, though, not particularly effective.
"There is no need for another bout of violence between us," 153 announced. "This support unit will assist 9S as well as his companion from this point forward. In addition, I will agree to avoid commenting on specific subjects in the presence of units Devola and Popola. I will refer them to you for any related inquiries they may have."
9S's hateful stare lingered on 042 for a little while longer, but ultimately, he relented. "Good! Don't make me regret this! Oh, and grab one of the backups you made of my OS chip. We'll need it later."
He turned away, fully prepared to return to his newfound abode when he heard her call out to him. An annoyance to be certain, but at the very least, stop and listen.
"Pod 153 to Unit 9S."
"What?"
"Provided this support unit is successful in helping you in attaining what you desire, will you forgive me?"
Out of all the things he expected to hear from her, that was not on the list. He studied the pod as she floated idly in the air, awaiting his answer. That same, faint guilt reemerged and this time it was not so easily vanquished by merely ignoring it. He was reminded of Popola's warning.
"Yeah," he spoke softly, almost gently. "I'll forgive you. After the job's done."
Note: Expect more and more horror elements in the future. One chapter, in particular, ended up inspiring a different idea. At some point, I would like to make a story for Gestalt/Replicant. Something entirely horror-focused. Maybe I'll come up with something after this story is finished.