Squad 404 moved through the base as ghosts, slipping past the occasional doll who moved as if they hadn't noticed the four. It was because, as long as the bug was running, they wouldn't. They had about an hour, more than enough time. If this were an operation, it would have been easy money.

But it wasn't an operation.

And it was anything but easy, considering the objections of one of the team. 45 hadn't sent a compulsion admin command through the neural-network… yet, but it was growing apparent that the disagreement between sisters would come to a head sooner than later.

45 put a single round through the prisoner's skull, checking off the team's tertiary objective. As a favor to 9, she had removed the commander from the hit-list; though the news of their departure still wasn't received well. The team moved for the armory, their final stop before departing.

"This base has outlived its usefulness, so we need to leave." Again, 45 coldly asserted aloud in meatspace as they slipped past a catatonic SASS, "The commander is useful though, we'll keep him on the list of contacts." It was a justification that 45 kept repeating to herself so perhaps it might work on 9. The big caveat to her argument, however, only worked if the commander forgave them, and they weren't doing a whole lot to keep that bridge from burning as they ransacked the armory.

To make 45's stability worse, the younger twin had forcibly disconnected herself from their closed communication network, but as a scout-model doll, there was no way that she could shut down her auditory processes. The fact that 9 began stuffing her duffel with ammunition even more forcibly was evidence enough that she had heard 45's weak backpedaling.

It pained 45 to see her sister not smile.

There was an electrified volt that ripped through the censored partition in 45's mind-map. Humans called it deja-vu, 45 called it a hard-drive skip… even though dolls had evolved well past the point of hard-drives.

"Why do I have to carry her ammunition." HK-416 growled at G11, whom had already packed as much into her duffel as possible.

"Because its hard to get caseless ammunition." 9 snapped at 416, causing the colder T-doll to go rigid in surprise.

'-when we're alone out there.' Was the missing part of 9's statement. The contempt in 9's voice told 45 what her sister was thinking even if she wasn't on the network.

'You're going to have to-' 416's message was cut short when 45 disconnected from the network as well.

45 knew what she would have to do. It wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last time, and she'd kill a little bit more of herself and dump it behind that black-box of a partition just like the rest.

There was only one backup that they had of 9's memories from before the year they had spent with the commander, and that was back in Deele's workshop. Until they got back to their safehouse, she'd have to deal with the guilt of this decision in the only way she could.

"Leave the five-five-six and fill the rest with your forty millimeters, then." Shunt the pain aside, focus on the task. Make cost-effective decisions. 9 would understand that survival comes first.

"Smoke grenades." 9 coldly pulled a box from a shelf, maneuvering around the fifth body in the armory to drop them at 45's feet- "SASS, is there any more of the M84 flashbangs?"

The doll lit up, snapped from her programmed stupor, "Of course, Miss Kalina! Over here-" she pulled another box from the shelf, to which 9 immediately dove into.

They had hacked the neural-networks of every doll in the base, rolled back a year's worth of combat experience, killed a prisoner needed for G&K, and were now stealing from the very base that had welcomed them in a year ago.

Of course they had to leave. Just one of those crimes was reason enough to flee.

'But how much of it was necessary?' 9's voice haunted 45. Her sister's influence… she couldn't kill it, she couldn't shove it behind the partition. If she wiped this iteration of 9… there was no way that 45 could let go of her own proof that this 9 had existed. To do otherwise was to was a gross betrayal of her sister.

And in that way, she was thankful of 416's constant, cold gaze. The elite doll was watching 45's every move, analyzing her every decision, looking for that moment of weakness. Even if they had their disagreements and hostilities, it was that adversity that strengthened 45's resolve.

"Can we bring the cakes?" G11 whined, announcing what she certainly would miss the most.

"No." 9 answered before 45 could process an answer, "Only the essentials."

Why was she hesitating? Why was she hesitating? WHY WAS SHE HESITATING? WhYWAsSHeHeSITAtinG? WHY-

A jolt through the neural network caused 45 to flinch, pulling her from the loop she found herself caught in and dragging her back into reality. Her fragmentation was getting worse.

"You three move on ahead. I'll meet you on the outer perimeter." 45 zipped her duffel and secured her weapon. It made 416 raise an eyebrow.

'You're not going back on that promise to 9 as well, are you?'

'No.' 45 snapped instantly, 'This is for me'

45's teammates hefted their ill-gotten gains, waving farewell to SASS, not that the doll would have recognized any of them with the virus scrambling her system.

"Uwa… can you at least steal a jeep for us?" G11 yawned. Not a bad suggestion, but not what 45 had in mind.

No, 45 had moved for the data room. The damage she had dealt there earlier would take days to repair, so perhaps he was there. She tapped the camera system, seeing only Kalina asleep at the keyboard. 45 frowned. Normally she was good at predicting human behavioral patterns.

She flicked through the cameras, running several facial recognition process until she got a hit from a perimeter camera outside of the hangar. Like lightning she moved to intercept. If he spotted the other three while they were making for the perimeter, everything would have been for nothing.

Slipping into the cold night air, she made for the exterior of the hangar, past the assembly ground and heli-pad where they always departed on missions.

Where had he gone? She gripped her weapon tighter, a frustration mounting. How could she- a covert ops doll, be outmaneuvered by a human in his underwear? Eventually, 45 gave up, moving to regroup so they could egress.

A presence- a heat signature had emerged from behind one of the perimeter guardhouses. Instinctively 45 leveled her weapon at the figure. Even through her friendly identification trigger-lock no longer worked on the figure, she lowered the firearm.

"Fourty-five." The commander said breathlessly. How had he-

"You are leaving, aren't you?"

The commander was studying her face, trying to see any betrayal of emotion. A foolish, human thing to do, considering that an android had no such tells. His breathing was heavy, vapors of his very essence coalescing before his face. Clearly he had dashed here just moments before she had. Had he spotted the others before confronting her?

"You and Kalina are the only memories on the base that we can't wipe." 45's words felt like she sounded like she was regretful, "Here I thought that the dummies might be enough to trick you until we were gone." 45 smiled wide, and for the first time, it was honest, "Don't try to contact us, commander. We will be the ones to contact you." It was words she could have said via communique- through a simple terminal message but... but she wanted to see him one last time. She wanted to convey it to him personally, to see if he'd reject her. He was the one of the two humans that she could respect, and perhaps care for- so the connection had to be cut.

The man's face contorted into an expression that she didn't immediately recognize. It's basis was sadness or pain… Sympathy? Pity?

"Even if you go, just… just remember that you and your girls are always welcome here. A home, when you want it. I forgive you for doing what you think you need to to survive."

"Home…" 45 mumbled, "Those who don't exist don't need a home, commander." Her words felt hollow, dead of emotion like simple electronic noise.

But her smile was still honest, still warm. 45 walked past him, towards the cover of darkness beyond.

"But thank you. I'll… we'll... think about it."

She didn't want to turn and look, and she so desperately hoped that 9 wasn't out there watching either. They never said goodbye, or farewell…

Perhaps… perhaps it was because somewhere deep in that locked away corner of 45's memories clung the idea that they would be back.