"Kid, you… you created an AI?"
"Yes."
"You…. you understand the repercussions of this, right?"
"Yes."
"Do you really? Because I don't think you do. Not truly."
"Taiga, I'm not an idiot; I know how this would be viewed by the greater world at large, and I know that a lot of people but would be really unhappy about it, but-"
"Nah uh, no buts. Shirou, fuck the 'greater world at large'. Do you really think that's who I'm talking about?"
He scratched the back of his head while Taiga fixed him with her best 'ultra-pissed off concerned sibling' look. She was sitting across from him, lounging on a well-worn beige couch that looked as though it could've been picked up off the side of the road (and it really could have; most of their furniture was "used"). The lone light in the stairwell casted shadows on the concrete walls that might've elicited feelings of creepy, abandoned Endbringer shelters, but instead, it was just cozy, because this was home, for now.
"I mean… yeah, that's kinda who I was thinking about, so…"
Taiga just sighed, one hand resting on her chin and the other playing with the hem of her oversized graphic tee that portrayed some Cape artist he'd never heard of; Canary, or something. She wasn't wearing any pants, but that was a boundary that had been crossed a long time ago on the 'what Shirou will force himself to be comfortable with, as per my demands', list. It wasn't really something he could complain about since the list wasn't very long and it was a small price to pay to have a roof over his head and no living expenses. He just hoped he would've been able to start paying back his dues by selling some of his tech, but maybe that wasn't an option anymore with how much she was freaking out.
"Shirou, I'm worried about them, but more specifically, him."
He almost laughed at the lackluster description but the completely serious look on her face had him holding it in. "I'm going to need a little bit more than that, Taiga."
She sighed irritably as though he were the idiot for not reading her mind and she leaned forward, one hand cupping the side of her face conspiratorially. Her voice came out in a low whisper as if she were afraid that the walls had ears.
"You know, them. The nine murderous shitheads and that mannequin motherfucker. He comes after Tinkers, Shirou — Tinkers like you."
He felt his mouth suddenly dry up and his heart palpitated painfully in his chest. "You… you think the Nine will come after me?" He was whispering too now. Not because he really believed those superstitions that if you mentioned them, you might actually summon them, but because they were just that big of a deal. The Nine, after him? He'd read about some of the things they could do, seen some of those low-res 'aftermath' images of areas they'd hit. It painted a very gruesome picture.
"Yes, Shirou! This is serious biz! Tinkers don't just build AI, not after however couple months you've been working your craft. You know what that means?"
He shook his head in exasperation and a gesture with his hand that said, 'and?'.
"Shirou, it means you're one of the real ones. You should still be making hoverboards out of microwaves, not Rayguns and AI! The progression is off the charts; completely unnatural, even! You could really change the fucking world with your power, and that's not a good thing, in this case."
He made to interrupt her tangent. "Taiga, I've had my power for years now, it's not that—"
She cut him off with a hard stare. "And have you been using it?"
He mumbled to the negative, disgruntled.
"Ex. Actly. Listen to your big sis on this one."
"I am listening, but I'm not exactly hearing what you want me to do about it. I'm not just going to dismantle her, so don't you even mention it - " She lowered a hand, her expressions shoring up waves of repressed expression to form into a pout, as though that was going to change his mind - "No, stop that. I'm not doing it, not now, not ever. It's not on the table."
"Okay, okay," She held up her hands placatingly. "How about this? You can agree with me that the Nine are bad news."
He snorted.
"Obviously."
"Then you can agree with me that nobody outside of these walls should know about it."
"It?"
"The AI."
"Her," he corrected with a slight glare. "She's a person."
"Okay, her," she dragged out. "No one should know about her."
He sighed, running a hand through increasingly greasy hair. "Yeah, okay. I can see that. But again, what are you suggesting?"
"I don't know… maybe just lay low for a bit and cover all your bases to make sure nobody finds out what she is? Acclimate her to the world, teach her how to be human now, so that she doesn't go Terminator on our asses later down the line."
Shirou held his rebuttal in; he couldn't say no to those eyes. It wasn't exactly a pout. More like this stare that said, 'I'm here and I really care about you', and also simultaneously, 'if you don't listen to my suggestion, I'll break your legs'. Really expressive eyes, those ones. He sighed. He wanted to protest that Taiga hadn't even known she was an AI until after he had told her. He wanted to tell her that he had complete confidence in the character of his 'creation', even though he couldn't even say why, not even to himself. So he held his tongue. Held his tongue and nodded his head with a soft smile, for the sake of both his physical health and her mental.
"…Okay Taiga. I'll do that. I promise."
She breathed out a sigh of relief and his smile became more genuine. Even though he already knew it, it was nice to receive little affirmations like this that she still cared. Under all the cursing and bantering was a sister-brother relationship that had made it through thick and thin. Taiga herself had really hardened over the years; both of them, really. To protect themselves and each other
"Good."
There was a moment of comfortable silence between them where the only sound to be heard was distant thunder, that heralded either an oncoming storm or gunfire, both things that, while initially intimidating, made for pleasant (as far as they could be) backdrops for a typical Tuesday evening beside the Tijuana-San Diego Exclusion Zone.
"So, when's the food gonna get here?"
She snuck a peak at her phone, the lighting set to the lowest setting so that he could never tell what she was looking at, not that he made a habit of trying. "Should be here in twenty."
"I can make dinner tomorrow," he offered. "Think I want to take a break from tinkering for a few days."
She smiled honestly. "That sounds wonderful. I've been getting tired of take out. And honestly, I'm glad. You've been holed up down there more and more as of late."
"Well, you know how it is. Tinker's gotta tinker."
"Yeah, I get it. Do you need any more tech supplies for when you do get back to it?"
"More free stuff from work?"
"You bet. They have us working double shifts, but my boss compensates well, you know? I have a shift tonight too in just a few, so let me know and I can bring something back."
"Oh, okay. Well, I don't think I need anything right now, but thanks for the offer. In regards to work though, you know I'm always here in case another position opens up."
She grinned impishly. "Sorry kid. 18 plus hires only. No children allowed on site."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what it is," He chuckled softly and waved her off with a hand as she retreated into her room. "You have to go, right? Probably need to get changed first."
They had a bit of a tacit understanding when it came to her 'work'. She said she wasn't a cape, he didn't believe her, she knew he didn't believe her, but because he didn't ask, she didn't tell. They both maintained the pleasant fiction that she was working at a retail branch of some phone company he had never heard of, which he totally never doubted, because doesn't everyone go to work with a cape outfit on, machine gun in hand, and a giant compound bow slung over their back?
After a minute's wait, she came back from her room, already changed. Her outfit was mostly black with red highlights, ballistic padding over her joints and torso made of some custom tinker-tech material that she wouldn't let him look at for some reason. There was a stylish red skirt cape that flared out right above her waist that was attached by clips to a tactical belt of sorts that carried all sorts of retail phone store implements like phone magazines that held phone bullets and a phone holster for the vaunted phone gun. Really fancy stuff.
Her gigantic fuck-off machine gun was held pointed to the ground with one arm in a shocking display of strength for the lithe woman, and her signature compound bow was slung over her back. Both for personal protection on the way to work, no doubt. You could never be too careful. Her naturally brown hair, now dyed black by dubious decision that she had never fully explained to him, was held up in a high ponytail with a nearly invisible black hair tie, replacing her usual white scrunchie.
Her mouth was hidden by a half-face kabuki mask, but he got the impression she was smiling by way of the faintly visible crunch of crows feet about her eyes.
"You off?" He asked.
"I'm off," she affirmed. "Good luck with her, and remember what we talked about. Also, just making sure; you absolutely don't need anything?"
"Yeah, I got it and yes I'm sure." He smiled back at her. "Stay safe, alright? And don't let the clientele get to you. I hear customer support is a real drag."
She chuckled good-naturedly and gave a jaunty half-wave salute. She turned on her heel and moved to leave, but stopped halfway through the doorway to their basement living arrangement.
"Oh, and don't think I didn't forget!"
He looked up at her form in the doorway. She was silhouetted by the moonlight shadow shining in from above the stairwell. Her eyes crinkled at him from an over-the-shoulder gaze. "Master? Really?"
"What…? Oh. Wait, don't get on my case about that. I didn't program her to say that! She just — did!"
"You didn't, huh? Then who the fuck did!"
"Look, she should be self-learning and she has a connection to the internet, so she probably picked it up from there." In the thirty seconds it took for her to say her first words? Very likely. He snorted. Something to look into.
"She what?! She has a connection to the internet?! Why!? That's like AI 101, you don't do that. What if she becomes the next SkyNet! And besides, what if they track her!"
"Always with your Earth Aleph movie references. Also, by the way, that's not how it works! They can't track her like that, it'll just seem like a normal connection. And, she's not that type of AI. More like an android, really — a human made of metal. Think of it like that. Oh, and I restricted her access to mainly wiki-based material for now, so you don't have to worry about her taking over the internet and achieving world domination just yet."
"Yeah right! It totally fucking is how it works! And what does that mean, huh? What, you child-locked her?"
He felt his face flush slightly red so he tried to turn away but it was already too late.
"Y-you, you really did child-lock her? Hah! Hahahaha…!" She cackled like a mad dog, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. "Oh my god, that's the best thing I've ever heard in my life! Can't have your new AI Girlfriend looking at porn, now can we?"
"Oh, shut up! And she's not my girlfriend, yeesh. Now get the fuck out of here, you're gonna be late!"
He smiled as she stumbled out the door, still laughing as her waist-cape trailed behind her. After a minute, he went, closed the door and locked it, his smile lessening minutely. He let his head rest on the door, the cold, dirty metal impressing itself on his forehead.
"Master?"
"Ah," He gasped slightly and he realized he had already failed in his first foray into parenthood — leaving his 'child' unattended in the lower basement for nearly a dozen minutes during the first moments of her life? An unforgivable sin.
Swallowing his mild apprehension, he pushed himself off the door and spied a bout of golden hair at the juncture of the lower stairwell. She was illuminated faintly by the white light falling down to her from the bulb above. It was Chiaroscuros. The near-extreme contrast between light and dark in artform. A term he only knew because Taiga consumed an inordinate amount of base trivia.
Her eyes were like twin voids, capturing the light and reflecting it around the horizon — shining white sclera encircling emerald. Beautiful beyond recount, but that thought unto itself made him feel dirty. What did that make him, her creator, ogling features that he had shaped, even if he had been in a fugue state at the time? Some kind of degenerate, surely.
He excused himself. No. It wasn't wrong to appreciate beautiful things. It was objectively motivated.
Just like the first time.
He recalled it; his trigger. It was raining. Always raining. Leviathan was looming in near-distance, Taiga was screaming in his ear, his heart was beating through his chest.
He thought he was going to die, then. He couldn't remember anything. The only memory he had possessed was one of that terrible roar; the one you hear when he is near. It was the sound of an endless tsunami, washing his life away. It was the sound of a city dying.
When that final moment came, he didn't remember his life flashing before his eyes; there was nothing to remember. He hadn't cried, He hadn't prayed, he hadn't uttered a single sound.
All he remembered was closing his eyes to the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Green eyes and gold hair.
I closed my eyes and all I saw was you.
…
He opened his eyes to green eyes and gold hair.
"Are you free now to converse? I imagine there is much we must discuss, but I did not want to interrupt your dialogue with your companion."
Her voice matched her face. Soft, yet lively. Somehow, British as well, but it fit.
"Umm… yeah, yeah! Come on up, and let's talk. I'm so sorry about that, she jumps to conclusions and… well, I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me. Food should be here in just a minute now, we can talk over that! Do you like Chinese?"
It only took him a second before he cringed at his own statement. Food was for humans. She was not… He cut off his thoughts right there. She was a human in the ways that mattered, he was sure of it, but she didn't need food, and would she even know what Chinese food was?
He watched as her bare feet carried her silently up the remaining steps, stopping just at the top. Her inquisitive gaze studied the room, and she probably found it not unlike the last, though bereft of all the scrap electronics, power tools and in-the-works weaponry. Instead there was just the stuffy beige couch and on the opposite end, a TV sat low on the ground, plugged into the sole power socket on that side of the room. To the left of the front door was a small rectangle kitchen of dull white laminate. On the right was a small hallway with a bathroom and the sole room of the house. He slept downstairs on a blow-up mattress in the lower basement with his tools.
Finally, her eyes met his, unfocused. Her mouth opened to speak: "Chinese, in relation to food; Chinese cuisine includes dishes from all around China and is referred to as "Chinese food" by other cultures. It is an integral component of Chinese culture. These foods originate from various regions of China as well as from Chinese immigrants who live abroad."
They brightened; refocused. Her lips quivered in something akin to amazement. "Woah."
Shirou found himself laughing lightly at that. "Hey, that's great! Means the connection is working! As long as you're somewhere with cellular service, you should be able to look up anything you need!"
Her eyes unfocused again: "On 'Cellular Service'; On "What does 'look up' mean in regards to 'Cellular Service?" — Cellular Service is a telecommunications service that permits customers to…"
"…On 'What is telecommunications in regards to 'Cellular Service''…"
"…On 'What is a cellphone in regards to 'telecommunications''…"
"…On 'What is a radio wave in regards to radio wave frequency''…"
…
…
…
"…On 'What is Diet Coke in regards to 'Soda''…"
"…On 'What is…"
"…On…"
…
Shirou snorted to himself, barely holding in the laughter that threatened to spill out of his chest. "W-we may need to fix that though, make it internal. That will probably get tiring real soon, for you and me both."
~PROJECT LILY~
The Great Devourer was in his home, and he was its creator.
What have I unleashed upon the world?
He watched her eat, his face twisting in on itself as she slurped up another handful of chow-mein, three discarded styrofoam containers sitting to her right on the rickety old ottoman she was using as a table.
He had to ask. He just had to. His curiosity wouldn't permit otherwise.
"…Where is it all going?"
Her eyes unfocused then refocused as seemed to be her tick, and she fixed him with a strange look.
"The food, I mean," he clarified.
She took another bite and giggled with her mouth full.
"My stomach, of course. Where else could it go?"
…What?
He swallowed in muted apprehension. "Well, it's just… you don't really have a stomach…?"
She crunched down on a piece of orange chicken, then rebutted his statement/question without chance for riposte. "I'm eating and swallowing to no ill effect, am I not? Of course I have a stomach!"
Such irrefutable logic, truly. What were science and preexisting knowledge of her inner workings to common sense? She chews, she swallows, she conquers. Easy peasy, Shirou. All hail Queen Saber.
…That reminded him. Names. Maybe it was a bit too soon to get into that, but he felt he wasn't needlessly projecting in regards to it being uncomfortable for both parties, calling her by her designation. As far as a potential cape name, maybe, but her real name?
He would have to ask, but maybe she already had something picked out. Who knew? She was already progressing at an astounding rate, expressing quirks and patterns typically associated with people that had established identities. Could she have already 'found herself', so soon? It certainly felt too soon, but he had no metrics by which to measure progress other than fictitious media on AI, which tended to portray them becoming angry murder bots, which wasn't of much use at all.
"Master, if I may?"
He blinked and jolted softly when he realized he had been staring unerringly into her eyes.
"Yeah, go ahead, speak whatever's on your mind! And please, call me Shirou. I don't know where you got this whole 'master' thing from, but it's not necessary. You're your own master, as am I," he finished, smiling at her.
This time it was her turn to blink in surprise and she snuck a peak at the back of his hand as though searching for something. Whether she found it or not, he knew not but what he did know was the sudden rise of heat in his cheeks when she stared back into his eyes with startling intensity.
"Master-," she began, then shook her head. "Shirou," she started over. "If I may be bothered to ask; How exactly is it that you came to summon me?"
"…Summon you?" What exactly does that mean? He wouldn't fault her for being curious about the circumstances of her creation, and he had to admit, he himself was feeling especially curious about how she experienced the sudden transition from 'not alive' to alive and immediately immersed in torrents of information; Where she was, what her purpose was, who he was as her 'creator', the current state of the world, a brief introduction on what the 'world' even was. All things he had made sure were programmed into her at the start.
Was it overwhelming? He thought it would've been; terribly so, when he imagined herself in her shoes. But then again, he wasn't. Maybe it felt like the most natural thing in the world to her. But there was something in that word there. Summon. Distinct, succinct, and utterly unfamiliar to him in the context of the conversation.
"Yes, Shirou. I admit to being inexperienced in regards to the summoning process, unalike my older counterparts, but this is thoroughly outside the bounds of my understanding."
He held up one of his hands. "Wait, hold on Saber - " Saber, as her designation prescribed by his power and a little creative flair on his part. "I'm not exactly following you on this. Summoning? Older selves? Would you… care to elaborate?"
"Yes," she nodded once more. She paused, her eyes searching his face before her gaze turned to his right hand again that had him flexing it nervously when she grasped it suddenly in her hand, turning the back of his hand towards her. For a brief moment, she held him and he dared not move, until she sighed and released his hand.
"Saber? W-what was that about?"
Her lips curled downwards minutely and he found himself frowning in turn. This wasn't quite going how he thought things would go, not that he had much known how she was going to act.
"You are not a magus."
He blinked at the statement, awash with this weird feeling at the word, but he shook his head in the negative.
"I - uh, I don't know what that is. Sorry."
She speared another piece of orange chicken and raised it into her waiting maw, and he blandly realized that Taiga would not be having any leftovers when she got back.
"Are you, perchance, familiar with the moonlit world in any capacity?"
He shook his head again, and her frown deepened.
"I don't understand," she said, staring off to the side. "The throne is oddly silent and yet my mind is still awash with new ideas... Shirou, what is this… 'internet' that assails me with answers to unasked questions? All at once I have knowledge about things I could've never dreamed possible, and yet I lack the context to apply said knowledge to a greater world." Her face applied meaning to the word confusion in that moment. "Like, Capes and Powers, Movies and Candy, Earth Aleph…" She went silent, her eyes unfocused. A moment passed, two, then three, and then a terrible snarl took her face. "Endbringers. A scourge upon the earth! From where did these beasts descend and why have they not been…" She trailed off.
He sighed softly, unsure of what to do or say. He really should've thought of that when he chose what she could see. Not even an hour old and already exposed to the horrid truth of the world. Maybe she would've found out sooner or later, but it didn't stop him from feeling bad about it.
"Ah… that is, I — I mean, I did leave an introductory 'pamphlet' of sorts that should've covered some of the basics…"
She wasn't listening to him. She began muttering to herself as though she were in a trance; "1992, Marun, Behemoth, 1996, Oslo, Leviathan, 1999, Kyushu, Leviathan, 2002, Lausanne, Simurgh, 2004, Mexico City, Behemoth, San Diego-Tijuana, 2004, Simurgh…"
"Saber," he began, but she wasn't listening. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. "Saber!"
Her eyes widened and she looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. "You are Shirou Fujimura, my… my creator?" She gripped her head, her eyes squeezing shut in something he could only register as pain. "But… how…?" Her fists clenched tightly in on themselves and a body shook lightly.
"Saber!"
She didn't respond.
Something flashed at the edge of his mind. His head throbbed and his power sang and suddenly he became aware of a new facet of her design that he somehow wasn't before.
"Saber! By the Authority of Command Seal Alpha: Initiate memory wipe of the last two minutes and of 'Introduction Packet' labeled 'Welcome Home'! By the Authority of Command Seal Beta: Initiate indefinite suspension of modem connection!"
Her eyes unfocused, refocused, unfocused, refocused; Her voice came out dull, lifeless: "Memory wipe initiated; time frame: 2 minutes to present. 'Introduction Packet' designation: 'Welcome Home', deleted. Modem connection suspended." A pause. "Your commands have been carried out, master."
He sat back on the couch, studying her perfectly blank face as he tried to process the turn of the last few minutes and put a lid on the worry that had erupted in his chest. What just happened? What did I just do? So I installed, what? Some sort of backup command system that responds to verbal pickup and I didn't even know I did until just now? And what was that reaction? He tiredly rubbed his eyes and took a peek at his phone.
1:06PM, Tuesday. Temperature: 97 Farinheit.
He felt tired and also slightly disgusted with himself. He had just got done telling himself that she was in no way different from a normal human being, something that was only affirmed by her way of being, and already he was altering her memories. Was it warranted? Maybe, maybe not, but he had the feeling that maybe it would be better to take things just a bit slower.
"Wha…? S-Shirou…? What just happened? W-what were we talking about?" Her eyes seemed bleary and she looked down at the fork in her hand in confusion before she took a hesitant stab at another piece of chicken.
He released a relieved sigh that he didn't even know he was holding in. "Oh, you're back! Are you okay? Did that… err — well, how are you feeling?"
Her body took another simulated breath before she smiled brightly as if nothing happened. "Ah, forgive me, Shirou. I am fine. I merely dozed off, though strangely, I find myself unable to recall the topic of our discussion…"
The statement sat in the open air that he realized was heavy with the sound of his near-labored breathing. He took measures to reel it in before he realized the question in her words. "Oh? Yeah, that happens to me too, sometimes. You had asked me about the circumstances of your… summoning? Is that right?" He offered her a strained smile, though if she picked up on his odd behavior, she didn't say anything.
"Thank you! Yes, I was meaning to ask. You say you are not my master, and I see that this is true by the lack of command seals on your hand - " Command seals? The name of the emergency command system… He shook his head. Questions for future Shirou to ask. " - but, with that in mind, I would inquire how it is you came to summon me. Is this not a Holy Grail War?"
He licked his suddenly dry lips as he searched for words. "I… can't say I'm familiar with the term, so I would imagine not. As for how I… summoned you - " He looked up and gauged her reaction to see how he was doing. Her curious smile betrayed nothing. " -, it would be better to say that I created your body. Err… the, uh, the vessel you inhabit, that is. And, I wasn't exactly myself when I did, so…"
Her lips thinned out slightly and she adopted a pensive air. "You created my body…?" She sniffed and examined herself; the thin curve of her shoulders into the separated sleeves of her dress. Her lean hairless legs, her slightly 'muscled' forearms, her dainty hands and feet. "Yes," she murmured. "Upon closer inspection, this body is not flesh and blood. A homunculus…? No, I sense no magic circuits, and my spirit smells now of metal and wire. A vessel made through mundane means? Not unlike certain Chealdean designs… wait, what is Chaldea?"
"Saber?" He questioned before she descended back into a fit of craziness again.
Her eyes met his once more. "That name…" She shook her head, her blond hair swaying from side to side. "Then, you mean to say that you did not mean to summon me intentionally, nor are you aware of the means of my summoning?"
He swallowed thickly. "No." Was that the right answer?
She stared at him for a moment, likely trying to ascertain the truth of his words before she sighed once more. "Putting aside then the vexing nature of my being here, if this is not a Holy Grail War and you are not my master, then being the only point of contact with the world without, I would impose upon you the question: Given that you created this vessel that I now reside in, are you willing to play the host to me for the foreseeable future until these matters are thoroughly investigated and the mystery of my summoning, resolved?"
His eyes widened as he pondered the question. Was it ever a question? "Of course," he replied. He had many of his own questions that he needed answers to as well. Besides, he couldn't just let her wander out into the world, her ostensible status as a newborn AI aside. It was a dangerous place outside the walls of the last Fujimura's little basement house, and he wouldn't let anyone just run out into it without at least knowing what they were getting into.
She smiled again and he found himself momentarily lost within it once more. "Wonderful! Then it would be prudent for us to establish the terms of Room & Board, no?"
"Huh?" Room & Board? "Oh! Don't worry about it! Everything's free of charge while you're here, and you can just stay…" Stay where, exactly? It was technically a one bedroom apartment, so it wasn't like there was a lot of spare room. Maybe he could stay on the couch? "Hmm. I have a blowup bed downstairs in the basement that you can use, if you don't mind sleeping next to all of my tools; I can just sleep on the couch."
"Ah. I couldn't ask you to give up your bed for me—"
"No, please," he interrupted her with a smile. "I insist."
"…If you're sure. Nonetheless, I extend my gratitude to you for your generosity, but if I am not mistaken, you do have someone else living here. Would she be okay with you extending such an offer?"
…Ah, Taiga. Of course. "She'll be fine."
"You are sure?"
"Absolutely."
I'll make her fine if she's not.
She finally set her fork down and made to gather all the containers in her arms before he stopped her. "Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it."
Her face betrayed the argument on her lips but she didn't say anything, instead opting to bow politely. "Very well, then. I again extend my gratitude for the food as well as the roof overhead."
She got up and made her retreat to the basement but she stopped at the junction of the stairwell, once again illuminated entrancingly by the light overhead. She turned back to him.
She had green eyes and gold hair. Her expression was mild; calm, and poised, before it dissolved into a quiet smile so full of life. "Thank you, Shirou, and goodnight. I will see you on the 'morrow. We can discuss things in further depth then. I would ask that you get a full night's rest from here, however. You are looking quite haggard."
"Yeah, goodnight Saber. Sleep well. And I will, don't worry."
Everything descended into silence from there as the tiny pitter-patter of bare feet on concrete faded away into nothing.
His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute as he tried to take everything in, and he had a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue but he had no way to answer them yet. The way she's acting... it's like she has pre-established memories already. But how could that be possible? Could I have designed her like that? It wasn't impossible. When he was in that fugue that lasted nearly an entire day, time passed him by in a chaotic blur and his power took control, and powers were not beholden to any rules but their own.
Regardless of his state of mind, now that he was alone, his body was slipping and he knew that it was going to drag him into sleep's embrace whether he wanted it or not.
He looked at empty styrofoam containers and sighed, running his hands through his hair now slick with sweat. He laid back on the couch, his eyes closing with a quiet burn behind his eyelids from lack of rest. He murmured to himself one last time; his last words of the night before he faded away.
"What the fuck."