Chapter XI:

High Wire

Rain poured down with unforeseen ferocity. 9S continuously fought off the urge to shield his eyes from the downpour. He could scarcely see the ground below. Amos sat next to him. Their feet dangled over the edge of a rooftop. Not at all the safest place to be during a typhoon, but the gales, at that time, were not as obnoxious as they normally were. It also seemed to be Amos' preferred means of traversing the ruins. As such, 9S was forced to follow along lest he be left behind.

Anemone's camp was far beneath them. 9S smiled sadistically as he watched a pair of resistance fighters drag yet another corpse into the camp. Various onlookers argued with each other over the situation. Their harsh words were loud enough to be heard over the cries of the storm.

It started as a boring quest for 9S to trail Amos while he went around to take pictures of the various resistance encampments and machine settlements. The boring task soon spiraled into multiple successful assassinations.

9S was initially annoyed by Amos' actions, but as they built in intensity, he realized the point of it all. Why bother directly attacking Anemone themselves when they could have someone else do it for them?

Every move Amos made was intended to stir up one group or another. It was as if he were kicking ant colonies to infuriate the residents. If it were a machine residence, Amos would kick back on the rooftops, pick out a few targets, and snipe them from a distance. He would allow his gunshots to be heard and launch his attacks from the same direction as Anemone's camp. Were it resistance fighters he wished to incite, the murders would be quiet. A swift, melee assault in which they would leave behind a machine's weapon somewhere near or in the body.

"This is so fun," 9S admitted. "I like the way you do things."

The bloody details of the assassinations they carried out repeated in his head like a broken record. The sounds of crushing bones and muffled cries for mercy throbbed within the titanium walls of his long-lost mind.

"The rain's been really obnoxious lately," he continued, smiling innocently at his silent companion.

Amos listened as he adjusted the knobs on his overly complex scope. His index finger was kept well away from the trigger. At that point, the scope was merely a means of getting a better view of the world beneath them. 9S could not help but notice Amos abruptly jerk to the left. He pointed his rifle at the camp's entrance.

"What do you see?"

In response, Amos held his rifle toward 9S and leaned away, granting the android just enough space to see for himself. Without the need to be told verbally, 9S tilted his head and peered through the scope. He ignored the various elevation markings as well as the surprisingly complex data the scope displayed. Instead, he focused entirely on the individual in view.

It was an all too familiar face. A YoRHa scanner model in seemingly perfect condition. Black, messy hair and the usual dark attire were his most defining features. 9S grinned from ear to ear at the chance encounter.

"And here I thought we'd have to leave for the forest after this."

9S pulled himself away from the scope. He observed the android closely.

"Take another look, Amos. That's 4S. A scanner just like me. He has something that I need."

A suspicious clicking sound briefly distracted 9S. The boy turned away from his target. Amos still sat at his side. His right leg swung freely over the edge while he used his left to support his arm and rifle. Amos had his weapon at the ready. He peered through his scope, slowly turning the dials to adjust whatever settings needed correcting.

"Don't shoot! The whole point is to take him unharmed!"

Amos reluctantly lowered the weapon.

They watched from above like buzzards waiting for their next meal to die. Rain pounded them relentlessly. The raindrops themselves were abnormally heavy. Periodically, 9S wondered if it was starting to hail but he found no evidence of such an occurrence. 9S could not figure out which result of this rain was more annoying. The obnoxious feeling of being assaulted by it, or the incessant drumming sound resulting from so many raindrops pelting Amos' helmet.

4S darted across the camp. His head hung low to evade the harassing elements. The android stopped near one of the denizens. He handed off a bag and after exchanging a few words with the nameless android, 4S darted off back the way he came. He left the camp without waving goodbye.

9S stood up in a hurry. "Come on. I think we've stirred up enough trouble for one day. Let's grab 4S and call it a day."

Sepia lights decorated a ruined city block. A segment of the ruins that 9S never knew existed until 4S unwittingly led him and his mute companion there. Even as the storm ravaged it, the area held a strange beauty. Those little light bulbs painted the walls of the surrounding buildings in a mostly amber hue, but other colors were also present. Deep reds, splotches of rich purple, and very trace amounts of green all mixed into one cacophony of seasonal light.

A large statue of a leaf stood in an exposed courtyard. Fashioned likely from scraps of copper and brass, it was not particularly eye-catching. 9S stood on one of the surrounding rooftops. While growing annoying, the roofs offered them a convenient means of stalking their prey. In spite of the rapid winds, they persisted in using them to their advantage.

9S's initial plot was to drop down on 4S and deal with him much earlier on. However, after seeing this rather interesting corner of the world, 9S decided to hold off for the time being. Amos eventually grew bored of standing around and sat down at the boy's feet. There the soldier observed 4S through the scope of his peculiar rifle.

An idea abruptly struck 9S. A curious thought, but one that compelled him enough to try it out. He gave no warning to Amos about his abrupt change of plans. The silver-haired android waved his hands about in the air. He called out over the rushing gales.

"4S! UP HERE!"

Somehow, 4S heard them despite the cyclone's interference. He glanced about until his eyes trained on the shady figures so far above him. 4S shouted something back before darting inside. 9S was unable to catch what was said, but it likely would not take long for 4S to scale the building and reach them.

4S did eventually reach them. 9S was the first to greet him while Amos lowered his weapon and quietly observed the newcomer. 4S was taken aback by the sight of the pale aberration.

"9S! Long time no see! Uh… Who's your friend?"

"Hey, there. This is Amos."

9S ran his bloodied fingers through his white locks. Explaining Amos was not exactly easy without the twins around.

"He's a soldier from the Old World. Never mind all that, though. I…"

"Never mind that," 4S asked in a shout. He smiled with enthusiasm. The dark-haired android clenched his hands together tightly in a physical effort to contain his excitement. "That's so cool! I've never seen someone like you before! Did you ever meet any humans!?"

Amos cracked his knuckles at the question.

"4S," 9S spoke firmly.

The scanners reestablished eye contact. That curiosity was something 9S could relate to even if he was feeling it less and less with each passing day. The more 9S observed the sociable, quizzical nature of 4S, the more he was reminded of the little memories he had left.

4S likely had a perfect memory. Why else would he smile so brightly or respond so positively? Had 9S's eyes not already shifted to such a deep shade of red, they may have very well turned green with envy after seeing him.

"It must be wonderful for you," 9S commented. He grinned venomously. His eyes radiated with hate. "To be able to remember like that."

While 4S may very well have not noticed the diabolical intent behind them, through the vision-impairing rain, he soon took proper notice in the red hue of 9S's eyes.

"Are you feeling well? Your eyes are…"

"Red? They've been that way for quite some time. It's not a logic virus. I'm not sure what it is, nor do I care."

"Fair enough, I suppose," 4S replied. There was a growing trace of apprehension in his next words. "Speaking of memories, how goes your hunt? Remember anything yet?"

"Nothing of value. Amos has been helping me with No.9, though. We've been making decent progress. We know exactly where to find the rest of his memories. All that remains is to go and get them."

"That's great! Any time I get the chance, I try to hunt down a body you can use. I found one scanner when I was exploring the Tower. His head was chopped off but there was no damage to the chip slots or brain. You could repair it easily with the right tools."

9S had to hold back the urge to laugh. He placed his bandaged left hand over his mouth to hide his comical expression. "I'll keep that in mind."

"That's a pretty sword," complemented 4S as he pointed to the elaborate blade in 9S's grasp. "Where'd you find it?"

"It belonged to No.9. It just so happened to find its way back to me."

The rain periodically drowned out their conversation. 9S studied 4S closely. Electrifying arcs of lightning lit up the bleak, cyclonic sky. Each flash of blue and purple light gave 9S a glimpse at 4S's oh-so annoying facade. Was 4S mocking him with that smile? Perhaps he was proud of the fact that he could remember so much, whereas 9S struggled to remember the more basic details of his past.

It became a challenge to contain his frustration. Why was he cursed with this bizarre case of amnesia when all those around him suffered no symptoms? 4S had his memories. The man who attempted to grab hold of Devola had his memories. He may not have one of his arms anymore, but he did still have his precious memories. 153 likely retained hers. So, why was 9S alone denied his?

The resentment came to a boil.

"Hey," 4S announced. "I actually came here with a job to complete. Since you guys are here, do you mind giving me a hand?"

Amos and 9S exchanged curious glints. Amos shrugged his shoulders, illustrating his indifference. With that opinion given, 9S turned to 4S. Still smiling on with twisted intent, he nodded.

"Sure... Why not?"

The trio traversed the rooftops in search of whatever it was that 4S journeyed to find. Neither 9S nor Amos kept their eyes peeled for much of anything. They remained focused on their target as if waiting for him to realize the inevitable.

4S came to a stop near the edge of a roof and stared down. A wire stretched from one building to the next. The cord held a row of decorative, autumnal lights that sparkled against a depressing backdrop. The gap between them was far too wide to take a leap of faith, but 4S still seemed interested in finding out what was over there. He pressed a foot over the wire, testing its strength.

"The machines that live here are really weird," 4S explained. "I met them some time ago. They aren't exactly pacifistic like Pascal's village, but they will leave you alone if you leave them alone."

Pascal. That was a name 9S had not heard in a long time. The scanner almost forgot he existed until the name was brought up. He wondered if that peace-loving machine still lived, or if he had been cannibalized by those red-eyed lunatics that infested much of the city.

"They worship the season of autumn. They decorate their territory with these lights and throw brown paper around to emulate the season as much as possible. I asked some of the locals about their weird obsession, but nobody could ever give me a straight answer about why they love that one season so much."

9S surveyed his surroundings another time. Suddenly, the color choices made sense. The purple, red, and amber lights were a representation of dead leaves. That statue in the center of the area was just another shrine.

"So, where are they?"

"I don't know," 4S replied. "I guess they're taking shelter from the storm but nobody's been answering my knocks. We should've found at least one of them by now. It's like they all just up and vanished without a trace. They didn't even turn their lights off on the way out."

9S turned to his salty companion. "You know anything about this?"

Amos shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

"I wanted to ask them about all the weird stuff that's been going on today," 4S continued. "I don't think they'd have anything to do with it, but I'd at least like to warn them."

"Warn them of what," asked 9S. "What's going on?"

"Well, there's been a whole slew of assassinations today. Murders that mainly involved Anemone's people. They think it's machines doing it. There were at least two murder scenes with machine weapons left impaled in the bodies."

9S and Amos flashed knowing grins to each other. Amos nudged his shoulder and let out a quiet giggle.

"That's just horrible," 9S muttered, barely able to conceal his snickering. "I wonder who would do such a thing."

"I've already seen a few dead machines lying around on my way here that I know weren't there until recently," 4S explained. "Seeing that gave me a theory. I think someone's trying to stir up infighting in this city. No idea who, but I know I need to warn some other machine settlements after I finish up here. Hopefully, we can avoid fighting for a little while longer. I just wish others would realize this. I overheard some resistance fighters already talking about retaliating."

9S grimaced. He thought his plan was easily concealed. Perhaps it was to a bunch of dimwitted resistance grunts and unwitting machines, but 4S was clearly too wise to fall for this provocation.

"Have you told Anemone about your theory yet?"

4S shook his head. "No, I tried when I visited her camp but she wasn't available. I also didn't want to stick around and wait in that place. The people there are just… hard to deal with. By the way…"

4S paused and turned to face the peculiar duo. "I heard about what happened between you and them. I sympathize with you. I'd have probably done the same were something like that to happen to one of my friends. Guess, it's pointless to worry about that now, though. I lost my squad a long time ago."

Amos fidgeted slightly. The movement attracted 9S's gaze. The Legionnaire looked on with a tinge of sympathy. It was an issue he could clearly relate to. 9S, on the other hand, was not expecting to hear 4S be so agreeable. He would have to deal with his fellow YoRHa unit swiftly, lest they grow too attached to him.

"Maybe once we wrap up, I can help you guys with what you're working on. So, what are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Funny you bring that up," 9S began. He trailed off when he noticed 4S turn back to face the ledge.

The scanner inched closer to the edge of the roof. 4S extended his arms outward like wings. A means of keeping his balance as he took the first proper step onto the wire at his feet. He swayed slightly as he worked to gain a proper footing. He then moved his other foot off the solid surface of the roof and onto the heavy wire.

"What are you doing!?"

4S kept his balance as he carefully walked down the narrow cord. How the thing did not instantly snap under the weight of an android whose body was comprised of titanium and other various expensive materials was beyond him.

Amos and 9S rushed to the ledge but they did not dare follow him. It was not necessarily the drop that they feared. They could easily survive it without injury. The balancing act itself was what they had no interest in.

"I have to get to that other vantage point," insisted 4S. "Anyway, you never answered my question. What are you two looking for all the way out here?"

9S stepped closer to the wire while 4S had his back turned. He held his sword to it and flashed a toothy grin.

"You," he calmly muttered. 9S then cut the line. 4S was sent plummeting down to the earth.

The duo jumped after him. As 4S struggled to stand, Amos and 9S started their advance.

"Ugh," 4S groaned. "What happened? Why did it break?"

"4S!"

The calling of his name drew 4S's dazed attention to 9S.

"You said you wanted to help us, did you not?"

"Yeah," 4S said with confidence. He stood up, shrugging off the large fall he took, and beamed at them both with a hopeful smile. "I've been thinking about it ever since we last spoke. You're on this big journey to recover your memories and I'm just stuck doing busy work. I like the people back at the forest outpost, but I want to do something more. I also wouldn't mind working with a fellow member of YoRHa again. Let me come with you! I'll help you resurrect No.9, find memories, whatever you need!"

"What I need is a body for No.9."

4S lit up with excitement. "Right! Like I said, I found a dead scanner in the Tower. We could repair him. I ran a couple scans on…"

"4S," the opposing android interrupted. "I no longer have the patience to deal with complex repairs. I had my fill of them when I resurrected the twins."

"Then how do you plan to…"

4S trailed off. It was the telling way in which 9S stared at him, displaying an awful smile. The way Amos casually walked past him and took up a position behind 4S. The fact that the beast never took his white eyes off of the cornered lad. Both paths to an easy exit were suddenly cut off. All of these factors left 4S with one, horrifying revelation.

"No… No, wait!"

"No.9 needs a body," 9S repeated. "Yours will do just fine."

4S drew his sword and took up a defensive stance. His hands trembled in fear. "Why me!? Just find a dead scanner! I'll help you find one! It'll take no time at all!"

"I couldn't let you live anyway," 9S informed. "You know those assassinations you've been trying to unearth. That was our handy-work. Honestly, I thought we did a good job hiding the nature of those killings. To think you were on the verge of figuring it all out in the same day we started killing. I shouldn't be surprised. Us scanner models are the best when it comes to this sort of thing."

"That was you!?"

Before 9S could reply, the distant sounds of rattling gunfire broke out somewhere far beyond their position. That one disturbance told 9S everything he needed to know. "Sounds like the retaliations have already started. Guess we don't have to worry about that idea failing."

4S lashed out as Amos approached from behind. In a desperate act of self-preservation, he twirled around and impaled the salt-comprised demon through the core of his chest. At first, 9S panicked. He was fully aware that Amos should be able to survive any mere physical attack. Knowing that, 9S could not fathom how someone could survive such a wound. He wondered, only briefly, if that was to be the end of Amos' journey.

Of course, that was not the case. 4S froze in place, utterly mortified that Amos refused to go down. The soldier stood perfectly still for a few minutes. Rain pelted the sword that extended from 4S's arm and straight into his cold, unflinching heart. Nonchalantly, Amos wrapped his talons around the blade and casually liberated it from 4S. He pulled it out of his chest and threw it off to the side. The cut left behind in his chest was instantly filled with that salt-like substance. The equivalent of stabbing a sand dune.

Amos responded by landing a punch to the right side of 4S's head. The force of the strike swept the boy clean off his feet. He spiraled to the ground without hope of recovery. He landed face-first in a puddle.

"Nice try," 9S complemented. He skipped over to the downed android. "But you'll need a lot more than a sword to kill my friend, here. To you and I, Amos may as well be invincible. Now, hold still."

4S ignored the demand. He tried squirming away but he was too discombobulated to stand upright.

"As I said earlier," 9S rambled on. He leaned in closer to his victim, watching as he writhed about helplessly in the water. "It must be so damn wonderful for you to remember everything. So wonderful that you'd offer to help me! Your heart must be full of pity. I can hear you laughing at me, you know!?"

9S stomped on his back, forcing 4S back down into the shallow pool. "I said hold still!"

It was an easy task to find the OS chip. The item of interest was located in the same place for all YoRHa androids regardless of model. Conveniently, it was also easy to remove. In less than a second, 9S ejected it from its crucial slot and broke it between his fingers, sealing 4S's fate forever.

The YoRHa scanner drew one last whimpering breath.

The world faded to black.

9S led the way back to the coast. Amos followed behind with 4S's corpse held over his shoulder.

Given the strange area they came from, the two had to take an unusual route to return home. As they trotted through an unfamiliar street, the duo came to a halt after coming across a massive bed of roses.

Thorn-adorned shrubs scaled the walls and consumed the crumbling asphalt. Like many of the plants that littered the ruins, those rose bushes were massive in size. Overgrown and untamed.

9S approached the enumerable flowers. He loomed over the stems and canopies of foliage. As he studied the crimson flowers, a noise from a nearby alleyway caused both of them to jump. Amos held up his flashlight and shined it down a narrow space between two buildings. Nothing jumped out at them, but Amos was not so quick to lower his guard. 9S, on the other hand, returned to admiring the plants.

Amos carelessly dropped 4S in a shallow puddle and crept toward the alleyway. He traveled down the thin path in search of the source of that disturbance. All the while, 9S paid neither him nor that odd noise no mind.

An idea came to him. 9S leaned closer to the rose bed and reached out for a cluster of identical flowers that practically called his name. Just as they were within his grasp, 9S felt his foot slip against a rock slick from rainwater. He fell forward and landed straight into an ocean of thorns.

He was impaled from all sides. Sharp barbs pierced his flesh and dug beneath his skin. Others scratched and clawed at him without drawing blood. He was grateful for his unexplained inability to sense pain, yet it also made the experience far more uncomfortable. He could still feel his flesh be shredded by a thousand needles. Pain or no pain, the experience was still quite surreal in the most unpleasant way imaginable.

With a firm yank, 9S liberated not one but three roses from the soil. That took care of his original goal, but the matter of escaping this disturbing ensnarement was a task still yet complete.

Thorns slid inside his limbs. Each squirming motion he made to free himself only forced the boy to fall deeper and deeper into the merciless bramble. Like a butterfly caught in a well-woven web, every movement he made only served to further entangle him. He thought of calling for Amos to simply yank him free, but he would rather save himself the embarrassment and find his own way out. Preferably before his bestial friend returned to see his humiliating little fumble.

All of his attempts ended in failure. He fell well beneath the floral canopy and into the depths of a jagged jungle. During his struggle, 9S reached a certain epiphany. He could no longer hear the rain. Nor could he feel the droplets pelt his back. There was no thunder to be heard. Apart from his squirming, everything fell silent. He halted all motion and listened.

Nothing moved. Nothing made so much as a minuscule peep. Most of his escape attempts up until that point involved leaving his eyes sealed shut. The last thing he needed was a thorn scraping across one of his eyeballs. For the sake of getting his bearings, 9S mustered the necessary courage and opened them.

Darkness surrounded him. The type of blank void one could only see from a window in the Bunker. Spiked vines walled off his view of the world. Even with the cloudy skies above, 9S should have been able to see some light yet it was like he dropped off the face of the planet.

It was a strange place he stumbled upon. A place that felt so far away from the world beyond the leafy walls. No light, no rain, no thunder, no anything. The only stimulation he perceived came from the barbs that dug beneath his skin.

"Where…? Where am I," he thought. It was not that he forgot the events which led to this unfortunate circumstance. It was that the space within this blanket of roses and leaves seemed like an entirely new world.

Below the canopy, he saw other roses scattered across this void. They were far fewer in number than they were above the leaves. In this dark place, they lost their vibrant red coloring. To him, they appeared completely black, wilted, and malnourished.

The android tried to move his head about. In want of a better view of his surroundings. Each attempt was met with multiple thorns sinking into his cheeks. His eyes eventually adjusted to the low lighting, or rather, the lack thereof. More of the bramble came into view. It seemed to stretch on and on without end. Violent vines and stems jutted in all directions. They scraped at the darkness just as they did to his body.

Inches beneath him, 9S spotted the face of a female android. Likely of YoRHa origin, but one 9S had never met before. She appeared to be long dead. A stem of thorns stretched across her slit jugular. Dried blood stuck to her neck. Empty, glazed eyes stared back at him.

On impulse, he jerked away but the barbs kept him in place. Thorns impaling his jawline prevented him from screaming. It was a useless struggle. One he ultimately gave up on. Perhaps this was to be his fate. To bleed out in a realm devoid of light and brimming with pain. A pain he was denied from feeling in the first place. Yet that idea still implied there was a fate left for him to succumb to.

"Am I dead?"

Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw semi-transparent faces rise from the depths. Tormented wraiths surfaced from an otherworldly abyss. They grew in numbers and frequency. Each haunting face arose like a bubble of air and dissipated into nothingness as it neared him. Their empty eyes were wide with fear. Their lips parted as though they wanted to scream as badly as he did, yet they too were unable to squeak, let alone screech for the salvation they so desperately longed for.

"Are these thorns here to punish me?"

9S tugged his right arm only to discover it bound by one of the many vines which kept him locked in place. The boy felt a thorn move back and forth, scraping against his radial artery. The sensation caused his stomach to turn.

"Is this what Popola warned me about?"

A small, weak light shined up ahead. It was a crystal. A tiny crystal that radiated with heavenly light. It reminded him of the floating jewels he saw in that divine library. And just like those he encountered before, this stone was suspended in mid-air. It hovered in a narrow opening where none of those vile vines dared venture.

Forcefully, he reached for the light. Every inch forward was exchanged for another inch worth of cuts along his arms. Eventually, after expending so much effort, he drew closer. As his fingers almost engulfed the crystal, the image of a circle filled with complex geometry and elaborate runes flashed before him. A conjuring circle was the closest thing 9S could equate it to. A means of evoking some demon or perhaps an angel. What he would give for an angel to come along and rescue him from this forest of thorns.

9S finally reached the illuminated crystal. He wrapped his fingers around the precious stone. His dark clutches snuffed out the light. Upon making contact with him, the crystal dispersed into a vivid memory. A recollection that tickled his bones as it traveled straight to 9S's innermost thoughts.

The memory came in the form of another mental image. An image of himself stood atop a white citadel. An android's corpse lied in front of him. Darkly dressed and with a head of white hair cut unevenly short. She was covered in grime and gore. He failed to get a good look at her. The scanner could only lie there amongst the barbs and watch as that past version of himself slipped and fell upon a YoRHa-issued sword. He could so easily feel the way it sliced through flesh, organ, and spinal cord alike.

9S could not help but gurgle as he felt himself choke on his own blood. A phantom effect from a tragedy long behind him. Waves of fear, grief and rage washed over him in the form of a despairing symphony. The only memory to invoke an emotion in him.

At long last, he gained at least one memory from that forgotten time. The memory of his death.

At that moment, 9S forgot where he was. As far as he was concerned, that was his most recent memory. Proof of his ultimate fate in the world above. He accepted then and there that he truly was dead and this barbed void was to be his eternal punishment.

He redoubled his efforts to scream yet the thorns kept his jaw sealed. He flailed his arms around in a wild panic. The horror of such a revelation drove him mad. Thorns ripped and tore at his body, but it was of no consequence for someone incapable of perceiving pain.

As he jerked his limbs about in a bid to escape this posthumous prison, some of the vines started to loosen their hold. Branches were pulled up and thrown off of him. Ribbons of light trickled in from above. Droplets of rain fell upon his cheeks, soaked in blood and tears alike.

Before he could process what was happening, 9S felt a hand grab the back of his tunic. A monstrous hand lined with salty talons. In one fell swoop, 9S was yanked free from the bramble and brought back to reality.

Amos hoisted 9S well above that pool of barbs and dropped him off to the side. The boy landed on his knees and made no initial effort to rise off the ground. The familiar sensation of rain, the sounds of thunder, and the abrasive caress of a typhoon's gales were all very much welcome after the nightmare he was saved from.

He held on to those three roses, no doubt impaling his left palm with their thorns. 9S opened his right but it was empty. There was no shining crystal to be seen. Lazily, 9S's eyes wandered back to the bed of roses. Nothing about it would suggest a gateway to a perilous afterlife. He peered into the torn-up foliage to find how shallow the pit truly was.

9S heard a loud snarl from behind. He turned back to face Amos. Slow tears rolled down the boy's cheeks. They infused with the blood seeping from his lacerations and turned a deep red as they trailed further down his face.

"I-I just wanted to pick a few roses," 9S admitted, knowing that Amos wanted an explanation. "The twins have been arguing over something lately. They seem to like flowers. I know humans used to give these things to each other for one reason or another. I thought it would…"

9S trailed off. He gave up and held up one of the three roses he managed to collect in that hellish overgrowth. It was drenched in the android's blood. The stem was just as red as the flower itself.

"Here. I got you one too."

Amos took the flower from his mutilated fingers and held it up for further inspection. Blood dripped from the thorns lining its stem. Appreciative of the gesture, Amos patted the boy on the head, messing up his already soaked hair in the process. Grains of salt were left clinging to his sliver locks.

"There's a body under here," 9S informed. His tone was oddly meek. "Can you help me dig it out?"

Amos nodded. The duo ripped through the briar until they uncovered an old corpse. Amos yanked the body free and dragged it into the open road. A blonde, female android. Her uniform was left in bloodstained tatters. The body was bloated after having spent so much time exposed to the warm, humid air. A disturbing sight. Enough to make 9S feel somewhat nauseated. It made him wonder what proper decay would look like. A concept he was never able to see first hands as neither machines nor androids underwent such a process.

Lightning lit up her face. Her features were marred by a tormented frown. An eternal reminder of her final emotions before the woman's death. Her throat was torn open. 9S wondered if it was the thorns that killed her or something else entirely.

"Did she see what I saw?"

9S looked back to the pile of sharpened flora. There was no endless void to be seen. No vast forest of barbs to get lost in. No tortured wraiths to haunt him. It was just that. A bed of roses. A mundane, natural occurrence. Yet he knew full well what he saw. Such a thing could not have been a mere hallucination.

Surely, not.

"Let's take both of these corpses," 9S suggested. He moved to pick up the dead woman at his feet. "I have an idea."

Amos cocked his head uneasily at whatever demented idea 9S concocted in that sick little head of his. Nonetheless, he picked up 4S's corpse and followed.

All the way home, 9S listened to the sound of the rain and roaring ripples of thunder. He replayed the events in his head over and over again. He remembered the way he died. A conflict involving some unnamed android at the top of the Tower. Above all else, he could perceive the same emotion that reigned dominant over him at that time. That feeling of overwhelming rage. At long last, he found a memory that forced him to feel a certain way. A memory he could, without question, call his own.

Under normal circumstances, he would be jumping for joy and bragging to Amos about it. Divulging every minor detail whether the Legionnaire wanted to hear it or not. However, the experience in the briar left him far too shaken to mention it.

For the time being, at least, he would keep those details to himself.