The Prisoner - AU where Cryptor is just rotting away in prison.
"Are you sure?" The guard asked. "No one's asked to see him in ages."
"Well, I'm here to see him," Pixal insisted. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd take me to him."
The guard stepped out from behind the visitors desk, walking her through the first few gates of security.
"The guy's a serious recluse. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, just sits at the back of his cell all day." Pixal felt her heart sink a bit as they passed dozens of solitary cells. "Can't really blame the guy though," he shrugged. "Life in prison can't be an easy sentence for someone who doesn't die."
He unlocked the final door, revealing a small room adjacent to his cell.
"You have fifteen minutes."
"Thank you," Pixal nodded, the door slamming shut behind her. Her attention turned to cell in front of her, her subject waiting on the other side.
Cryptor sat at the far end of the cell, hunched over, head hanging, completely motionless. He looked deactivated. A forgotten piece of tech, thrown to the floor. Discarded. The image seemed so haunting to her.
"What do you want?" His voice was was soft and strong, but somehow… hollow. Like whatever used to be inside him had left many years ago.
"I just want to talk." Pixal crossed her arms, taking a step forward.
"Oh sure," Cryptor sneered. "All you and your ninja friends ever want to do with anyone in this hell hole is just… talk." He swung his head up looking her in the eye, the first sign of movement since she's entered. "Why would this time be any different?"
"It is different." Pixal told him. "I'm not a ninja, I'm your sister."
"Sister! Is that what you call it?" He laughed. "Oh yes, built in the same factory with the same parts for the same purpose, doing the same things for the same master, and yet somehow you're running around out there, and I… get stuck in here." His body shifted again, leaning forward. "Now why do you think that is?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You killed innocent people."
Cryptor stood up, taking a few steps towards her. "I was just following orders," he shrugged.
"Orders you were built specifically to follow."
"I didn't ask to be built!" he screamed, his words echoing around the room as their stares locked in a fragile sort of tension. "I didn't ask to be built by Borg Industries, I didn't ask to be built by the Overlord, and I certainly didn't ask to be built by you!"
Pixal could feel her eyes begin to strain. "I didn't ask to build you either." She answered. "But we don't know what kind of Overlord programming is still dormant in your system."
"Oh sure!" he laughed, making his way towards the glass. "Maybe there's some rogue programming left in me, maybe that's a justification for keeping me locked up in here until the end of time, maybe I do have a little bit of the Overlord still trapped inside my head, but you know what?
"Maybe you do too."