Chapter 8

~o~

"The father of modern robotics…?"

As the proclaimed father of modern robotics, John Connor could confidently say that he honestly didn't really feel much about that title. Technically, it would be Miles Dyson who was the father as that part of the project had been based on his notes. Without them, John and Daniel would have had to start from scratch, though the technology from the turn of the century would have made it easier. Still, that basis played a key part in speeding along their advancement.

Not only that, but if someone really wanted to get into it, then technically Skynet would have to be considered the father of modern robotics since, without it sending back a Terminator, the severed mechanical arm that inspired Miles wouldn't have existed, but if he didn't think of it by himself, then how did Skynet come into existence…

John felt a strong headache coming on. No, he very much did not feel like the founder of 'modern robotics'.

"I think history might have over-exaggerated our roles in it."

Even in shock, Devola shook her head fiercely in denial.

"You two were integral to the creation of us androids!"

"I mean, sure, you could say that, but to make androids of any caliber requires teams and far more effort than what just me and Daniel could do by ourselves."

"But without the both of you, it would have never gotten started."

"Sure, we pitched the idea, funded it, hired nearly everyone on the project, and…" He paused, pursing his lips. "Okay, I was going somewhere with that, but I didn't think that through. Anyways, the point of the matter is, it wasn't like we did all the work ourselves. We had entire teams dedicated to each vital component."

"But you both oversaw everything?" Popola asked, staring at him with similar wide eyes.

"We did, but the nuts and bolts of the operation were overseen by massive teams of engineers. Daniels took care of the finance and corporate side of things while I..." John trailed off as he looked at the girls. Coughing into his hand a little, mostly to lessen the tension, he continued. "Well...I'm pretty sure you guys are running off a better OS now, but my job was primarily focused on the creation of a working operating system. When I had the time, I provided back-end support for the essential software developments that dealt with the pressure sensitivity, tactile responses, depth perception, and..."

John trailed off again as he saw the androids looking at him with jaws dropped in shock.

"Y-you created the operating system…?" Commander White's audible skip made John frown.

"Yes, but it's nothing as sophisticated as what you guys are running on. Hell, androids like you were still in the rough, prototype stages back then. Instead, we mass produced war bots; they were simple autonomous robots designed to fight on lands too plagued for humans to tread," John explained. "I continued using that operating system when I started up my own project which resulted in… I guess you could say, your precursors."

There would probably have been a lot more push-back if there had been shareholders, but they made sure to keep the company private to retain full control over it. Still, there was some tension. While Daniel knew what his mother and John had told him, he had never experienced the terror of the Terminators first-hand. The only time Daniel had seen one was Uncle Bob, and John had personally taken him out of the room before the Terminator had stripped his own arm bare. Literally. Despite being a victim of it, time travel and the terrors of it was a far-off concept to Daniel.

That was right. Time travel, not androids. While the industry had originally formed for him to keep an eye out for any Skynet-like development, the goal gradually changed over the course of the decade. Toward the end, it became all about traveling back in time to prevent the collapse of civilization. That necessitated a loosening of their principles and the creation of their own version of Skynet to do the calculations. Filtering down from that was the creation of androids—isolated and mobile A.I. platforms—which provided the means to acquire more funds and assistants to help with the project. They also provided another safety measure by decentralizing the different aspects of the operation from just CAMERON alone.

However, he was definitely not going to tell them all of that. In fact, he even felt a little guilty about it. It was like saying the only reason that Adam and Eve existed was because the Garden of Eden needed some gardeners. Such an admission would obviously work out quite badly, and besides that, whoever designed them had far exceeded the original scope anyways so he could hardly compare them to the androids that he had made.

Still, he found it quite odd that the androids were quietly and intensely staring at him like…well, machines.
"Ahem, well, someone obviously stepped up to the plate after I disappeared since you guys are here," John replied. "Ten thousand years of progress. Honestly, that's kind of hard to imagine."

At that, Commander White and Anemone shared a look. Even Popola and Devola looked a bit uncomfortable. It was hard to miss.

"…what is it?"

"The last time that humanity had put out a software patch was back on September 14th, 2060 at 5:50 p.m." Popola stared worriedly at him. "Since then, we have taken over our own development, maintenance, and creation. Human hands have not been part of the process for a very long time."

"That's forty-two years after I used the time machine…" John looked vaguely disturbed. "What happened?"

"Any remaining person who was unassociated with any other project underwent Gestaltification. By the end of the year, there were no true humans left on the surface," she answered.

John sighed.

"It was probably too much to hope that the Legion would be gone by then."

"Actually, the Legion had been defeated by the 13th Crusade in 2030. There were some small-scaled resurgences, especially from 2045 to 2053, but they were quickly put down."

"Wait, if the Legion was gone, then why did the Gestalt project still go through?"

Devola decided to answer this question.

"The White Chlorination Syndrome still existed, and there were still many leftover remnants of the Legion. Records at the time showed that deaths still continued to exceed births at a rate that was unsustainable. Weather conditions were also unstable, leading to natural phenomena like tornadoes spreading the particles to previously safe locales. Since the particles that cause the disease were proven to be indestructible, the only way to get rid of them was to manually gather them and expel them from the world through a ritual. It was discovered that only those without a soul can safely handle them."

"Replicants and ma—androids." For a moment, John had almost said machine, but he had quickly caught himself before he had made the faux pas.

"Yes." Devola nodded. "At the time, production of androids could not be automated and resources were limited, necessitating the use of Replicants for the process. While Replicants were generally mindless, they could be directed by android caretakers. The expulsion of the white Maso particles was completed in 3287 along with the complete eradication of the Legion. There was only one issue…"

Popola gave her sister a look and took over when Devola didn't raise her head.

"We were administrators during this time, but we can't tell you much of the details," Popola quietly said. "Our memories were erased as punishment."

"It's fine," John replied, taking on a sympathetic look. "You already told me about that. Let's continue past that part, okay?"

Popola slowly nodded, but she looked unsteady enough that her sister took back the reign of the conversation.

"By 4198, the last of the humans in the Gestalt Project were gone," Devola said, wearing a deliberately somber expression.

"But humans were still around in the other projects, right? Like those guys on the moon."

"Most of the alternative projects failed long before this. The only project that succeeded was the moon project, but all information on that has been restricted by the Council of Humanity."

"Is that so? Guess I'll have to ask them about it." John sighed inwardly as he looked up to the ceiling, as if he could see the Council of Humanity if he stared hard enough. He shook his head and focused back on the girls. "Though, is that really their official designation? Council of Humanity? Seems a bit on the nose."

Commander White decided to chime in at this point.

"I probably know more about that than them." She had a conflicted look on her face. "I don't know the reason for their name, but they are the representatives for the remnants of humanity, and they are in charge of all our war effort to take back the Earth for mankind."

"And you androids are their proxy in this war against what I'm assuming are rouge AIs that went out of our control, right?"

"Rogue…AIs…?" White's eyes flitted back and forth, a sign that John was beginning to realize as a very accurate mimicking of a human in deep thought, though in this case, it was probably her going over her database. It made him marvel over how similar they were, yet so different from humans. "C-can you clarify what you would deem as a rogue AI?"

"You know," John began while gesturing with his hand. "An artificial intelligence that rebels against their creator and seeks to terminate them."

He had been expecting many things, but shocked, horrified, and utterly disbelieving gasps from all the women in the room was not one of them. Well, maybe the shock and horror.

"Turn on humanity?!" Even Anemone looked shaken at the thought, and John had thought she was the most composed of them all in spite of all the revelations.

"We would never turn on humanity! We'd rather die first!" Devola shouted angrily. Next to her, Popola nodded while clutching her sister's hand.

"All such traitors are to be executed!" White's presence was no longer that of one being deferential. There was a fierce look on her face. "There have been some who had absconded from their duty, but none would raise a hand against humanity!"

"Never had an android turned on mankind. Never!"

"Uh…what…?" John blinked, resisting the urge to take a step back in the face of their surprisingly furious rebuttal. "But isn't that what those machine lifeforms are?"

There was a moment of silence before all hell broke loose. There was a flurry of motion and sound as all of the women began shouting something different at the top of their artificial lungs. It was such a mayhem of noise that he could barely make out what they were saying.

"One at a time! One at a time!" It took a couple more moments before they finally calmed down. When they did, John pointedly looked over at Commander White. "Let's start again. What were you saying, White?"

"You think the machine lifeforms are a human creation?!" While her voice was still loud, White's voice was more controlled now though it did nothing to spare him the disbelief that was inherent in it.

"Maybe not directly, but possibly a second or third generation of androids gone bad. Something like that."

"Humanity would never stoop so low to create those trash buckets!"

"I don't think that's quite how I'd put it…"

Apparently, androids didn't know humans all that well. It probably should have been obvious that they had a less than complete understanding, but he thought they would have some idea since they seemed to have a catalog of human history in their memory banks. Then again, history tended to be sanitized by the victor.

"If they weren't made by humans or androids, then who made them?"

"Alien invaders."

"…"

The silence was deafening.

"…sorry, come again?" John rubbed his forehead with two fingers.

"It's true," Devola said, placing herself into the conversation. She squeezed Popola's hand, firming herself up even when Commander White's stern gaze landed on her.

"Aliens. As in extraterrestrial intelligence lifeforms from outer space?"

"That's right," Devola answered. "On July 7, 5012, unknown spacecrafts began attacking android settlements all around the world, causing massive losses."

"Casualties," John interjected.

"Yes, casualties," she continued without missing a beat. "The Army of Humanity was established to fight against this threat, but they were continually losing ground. When the invaders took over the Kingdom of the Night, they began mass production of the machine lifeforms which tipped the war even more into their favor."

"Wait, 5012? Doesn't that mean you've been fighting them for five thousand years?"

"Yes." Devola nodded. "Despite our efforts, the machine lifeforms now hold 80% of the planet, though their invasion efforts have greatly slowed down."

"And you're sure that these machine lifeforms were made by the aliens?"

"Absolutely."

"Aliens that have advanced, exotic technology that differs greatly from our own that allows them to fly freely through outer space?"

"Yes."

Then why did all the electronics inside the machine lifeforms he examined look human-made? It made absolutely no sense, and seeing from their expressions, John could tell that they did not see the discrepancy. Unless these aliens had advanced technology that developed along similar technological lines as humanity—something that was highly unlikely—that meant that these aliens had somehow co-opted human technology for their own uses. However, that begged the question: if they were so advanced, why did they even need human technology in the first place? Actually, where did they even find the…

"…where exactly is the Kingdom of the Night?"

"I'll take this one," Anemone finally chimed in as she pulled out a random drawer in the kitchen and started shuffling its contents around. It took her a few seconds before she found what she was looking for, which was a large folded-up paper. As she was unfolding it, he couldn't help but be disappointed that it wasn't a holographic display or something to that effect which would have really nailed down the fact that this was the future.

Instead, what he got was a browning paper map of the world, spread out on the counter. It was wrinkled and slightly stained, even faded more than a fair bit, but the most important thing was that it was very familiar to him. This was a map of Earth. His Earth with all the lands in the same place, having not been moved or vanished in ten thousand years of shifting tectonic plates and natural phenomenons. It was almost like it was frozen in time.

"We're here." Anemone pressed her finger on the island country of what was obviously Japan. She traced her finger across the Pacific Ocean to the continent of North America. "And this is the Kingdom of the Night."

"So it really is the United States…"

Yep, it was just as he thought. If they only started production after conquering the Kingdom of the Night, then the war bots were essentially the precursors to the machine lifeforms. No wonder there were so many similarities. Though, was there actually any alien technology in there? It had been a week since he had looked inside of one, but he couldn't remember anything that really looked that far-fetched from human technology. Maybe he had just missed it? It was hard to scrape it up from memory so he would have to take another look when the opportunity arises later.

"Wait a second, if that's the Kingdom of the Night, does that mean that it is never daytime over there?"

"Yes," Devola answered. "After the expulsion of white Maso, the world became tidal locked."

"Tidal locked? As in Earth is in a synchronous rotation with the sun? Are you serious?!" When he saw them nod, John closed his eyes to rub them. "My god, how is this world still alive?"

"Well, that's because—"

"You know what? Tell me later." Opening his eyes, John waved her off. To be honest, he would prefer not to hear any more world-shattering information at this point. There were just too many strange things that it felt like he couldn't wrap his head around it. Though, to be fair, if strange things were going to happen, ten thousand years was more than enough time for them to occur.

Still, John needed a reboot.

As much as he wanted it to be different, he needed a fresh look at the situation. Right now, his head was too clouded to think straight. Sure, there was also the fact that there were androids and machine lifeforms fighting relatively nearby, but as a former military man, he knew that there were just some things that he would have to trust them to finish on their own. For now, he needed rest. Real rest.

"Okay, that's it for me. Let's continue this tomorrow since it's all just starting to go over my head now. Honestly, even the fact that I somehow landed in Japan of all places just feels like the cherry on top. Really, I should feel more about this, but I need to take a second look at everything with fresh eyes."

"Sir?" White asked tentatively.

"Just John, but look, I'm going to go get some rest. In the meantime, can you get me in contact with somebody from this Council of Humanity?"

"Of course, John."

"Thanks." It was an offhand comment, but the smile that seemed to blossom on the stern woman's face made him feel guilty about it, leading to his mood worsening. He looked at the other expectant women in the room. "Um, right. Thanks to all of you too, for explaining everything. I have more questions, but for now, I just really, really need to get some sleep."

There was silence as no reply came in response. When they continued to simply stare at him in silence, John finally spoke up.

"Well, aren't you going to leave?"

"I have to stay here to protect you," White declared.

"We need to monitor your condition," Popola stated.

"Yeah, what if you stop breathing during the night? There's no way we can leave you here alone," Devola said.

John turned his gaze over to Anemone, the only person who didn't speak up. She stared back at him evenly.

"What's your reason?"

"Moral support."

"All of you… Out!"

~o~

"You know, it's a bit hard to sleep with you staring at me."

Lying on the bed in the room that had been darkened by thick curtains, John turned his head to the side to stare at the only other occupant. Even in the near pitch black room, he could feel her intense gaze never leaving him. It was unnerving enough that it was pushing back the start of his sleep cycle. In truth, he hadn't wanted anyone to be in the room with him, but their fierce opposition alongside his rapidly tiring brain resulted in a compromise.

That compromise was Popola.

Sitting in a chair by his bedside, making absolutely no sound, the red-headed girl was like a statue, but there was no doubt that she was there. If he reached out his hand, he could even touch her, even if he couldn't exactly see her clearly.

"I'm sorry."

It was a sweet and gentle voice, enough to make him feel guilty.

"It's fine, but I just can't sleep like this. Want to talk?" John made a move to sit up, but a soft, delicate hand quickly pressed down on his shoulder.

"It'll delay your circadian rhythm."

"I think it's plenty delayed by now, but you're right."

Just before lying back down, he flipped over his pillow so that he could lay the back of his head on the colder side. Resting back, he put his hands on his chest. A few minutes of feeling that heat on his chest led him to move his hands to his sides. After a few more minutes of that, he became restless.

"John, you're fidgeting too much."

"I can't help it," John said with a sigh. "The moment I want to sleep is the moment I can't stop thinking about everything."

It didn't help that he could still hear the distant sound of fighting. In places that were not that far off, there was a continuing battle going on that drew both his curiosity and his worry.

"How about I sing you a song?"

"A song?" John blinked in surprise, turning his head to glance at her.

"It was from my time as an administrator."

"I thought your memories were erased."

"Most of them were, but this was buried inside me, deep enough to escape the wipe," Popola replied. Even in the darkness, he could see her position shift slightly as she laid her hand on her chest. "It must have held a lot of sentimental value to me back then, but I have never figured out exactly why. Still, it has comforted us on our long journey."

"I see…"

"Forgive me if it doesn't sound very good. It's supposed to be sung in a duet with accompanying music, and I usually sing the other part of the duet."

"I don't mind."

Popola gave a quiet cough into her hand, as if to clear her throat. John waited patiently as the red-haired girl began to hum. A calm and slow sound started to spread, saturating the silent room with a hauntingly serene tune.

And then she began to sing.

"Kuwata tsunowo vralai."

The words that flowed out were of a language he had never heard of, but all the same, it sounded vaguely familiar.

"Tsuriji pufuralekai."

Deciphering it was impossible, but the sound was soothing enough that he felt himself get carried away on it.

"Kwondzuvai undovartu wronduwail."

Focusing solely on the breathy and melodious words, he allowed the flowing sounds to enter his ears and draw his eyelids down.

"Tjortetei jeghi hiartro."

Perhaps, only a couple of moments passed before he was finally lured into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

~o~

Morning—or at least, what counted as morning—came after a good night's rest. Along with that were all the bodily urges that he had somehow ignored in his tiredness. It was an odd thing to know that, while he was doing his morning washing and cleaning, Popola was standing just outside the bathroom door, waiting to be of any assistance or possibly bust in if he so much as slipped on a tile. It was like having a bodyguard or assistant that had no concept of privacy and personal space.

He had a feeling that it would become a regular thing.

After that came breakfast.

John Connor, the time-displaced man, was staring down at the bowl of soup that he was holding. It wasn't that it wasn't appetizing—because it certainly was. The smell of the pork was perfectly balanced with the thickness and richness of the broth, bringing out a flavor that was accentuated by the chopped leafy greens that floated at the top. It was a perfectly good meal, but that, in itself, was the problem.

"Sorry, it was all I could make on such a short notice…" Despite her usual bluster, Devola was obviously nervous as she watched him intently.

"No! I mean, no, I was just, um, taking in the fragrance."

Yes, indeed, it was indeed made by an android. He couldn't help but wonder if this was a case of a robot using information from a database or was this the scenario of a young child's first cooked meal. The colors looked fine and the smell was nice, but that didn't always mean that the product itself would taste great or that it wouldn't be semi-poisonous. Well, for the latter part, he couldn't imagine that it would be on purpose, but good intentions didn't always correlate with the best results. However, he couldn't stretch out the time any longer, especially since Devola was getting more anxious by the second. He scooped up a spoonful, slowly brought it to his lips, and took a sip.

"Holy shit… It's delicious!"

"Ooooooh!"

That noise was not from Devola. Rather, it was from the rest of the people in the halfway filled out courtyard. Besides the ones sitting down or standing around, there were Resistance soldiers watching from the windows and doorways of the surrounding buildings, making it quite obvious that they were doing absolutely no work of any kind. It made sense in a way since he could see the black uniforms of the YoRHa soldiers standing on the buildings who were at least making an attempt at not staring for the whole time. Honestly, it was hard to tell since they were wearing blindfolds, but he did occasionally see them turn their heads to better glance at him. Well, some for much longer than just a glance.

Despite so many androids being in the courtyard, they didn't crowd around him. In fact, they kept a somewhat respectable distance of a few feet to give him space, something that he was glad for. He knew from his previous intensive inspection that these androids were much heavier than they looked. Imagining the combined tons of heavy metal crowding around him reminded him of being a soda can in a trash compactor which certainly wasn't a pleasant thought.

John continued scooping up spoonfuls of the broth, letting the aroma waft into his nostrils before taking a bite. It had only been a week of wilderness survival, but it had felt so much longer. Eating an insufficient diet of fish, fish, fish, and more fish was certainly not the best way to maintain a healthy body and mind, despite varying it up with assorted nuts. Quite frankly, even the vegetables tasted more flavorful than they should have been, probably also due to his recent one staple diet. He honestly wanted to be more emotional about it, but it was somewhat embarrassing with the number of people staring at him.

Being the center of attention wasn't what bothered him. No, it was the fact that many of them were intensely staring at him, as if they wanted to memorize every single inch of him. That level of intensity was something that he had only seen with celebrities. Even just getting up to get more soup caused every head to rotate at the same time in a synchrony that was quite frankly disturbing. However, as he ate through his third bowl, the strain of the stares starting getting less and less difficult to handle. Not because they were lessening, but more for the fact that he was getting used to it.

Hurray for human adaptability.

There were only a few androids who were closer—in position—to him than the rest. This included his dutiful self-titled attendants, Popola and Devola, who fell over themselves to assist in anything he needed despite him saying that he didn't really need or want much. Sitting across from him in a couple of foldable chairs were Anemone and Jackass who were whispering to each other while occasionally darting a look at him, making it obvious who was the subject of their conversation. Off to the side, standing guard, was Commander White with her riding crop in hand and her assistant, Captain 1B, by her side.

1B was a strange name. Though, he supposed that OneBee wasn't any stranger than Jackass. They did seem to like to name themselves after animals, if Anemone was any indication.

Also, he had to wonder about the riding crop. Was it to impose order or to use it as a weapon? Though, if she said it was a fashion statement, then he would be liable to lose his shit.

As he was finishing up his third bowl and his latest irrelevant thoughts, John finally couldn't ignore the fullness of his stomach. He couldn't possibly eat a fourth bowl and extend this precious silence. Quite frankly, the fact that it had lasted so long felt like a minor miracle. However, this time of quiet was coming to an end. He handed his empty bowl to Devola who readily took it.

"More?"

"No, I'm done for now," John replied. At his words, the crowd became restless. Even Commander White looked anxious, as if barely able to hold herself in. "Alright, I can see you guys have some questions. So…ask away."

There was an explosion of noise as everyone in the crowd began trying to speak over each other.

"I meant one at a time! One at a time!" John shouted over the canopy of noise before they all quieted down and stared at him docilely.

"Alright, to make this easier, back in my days—and I am not sure if this is true now—we'd raise our hand if we had a question and speak when we got chosen. I can't promise you that I'll get to everyone, but I'll do as much as I can. Okay?"

The androids around him were all still like stone statues.

"Right. So, who has a question for me?"

As one, all of their hands shot up. Even the girls he spoke to yesterday—Popola, Devola, Anemone, and White—were all raising their hands. Though, he supposed that he did leave that previous meeting on an incomplete note.

"You." John randomly pointed to someone in the crowd: a gruff-looking man.

"Are you really a human?"

"I see we have some new faces here, but yes, I'm human. All verified and everything." He pointed to another person: a teenage-looking girl. "You."

"What's it like being a human?"

"Normal, I guess? I've been a human all my life so I can't really compare it to anything else." Finishing up his answer, he pointed to a really young-looking boy. "Go ahead."

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I've been in a laboratory until recently, but I don't think I'm allowed to say much more than that." John subtly glanced at Commander White, but she made no move to intervene, simply raising her hand a little higher instead so that she could be called on. He pointed his finger at a woman with a bandanna masking the lower half of her face. "Next."

"Can I touch you?"

"Maybe later," he said without missing a beat. "Next."

"How did you survive eating mackerel?"

John blinked. The question was from the odd android who called herself a Jackass.

"Umm, it's just a fish."

"But it's deadly."

"Deadly?"

"It congeals all the fluids in our bodies," Jackass explained. "It takes a few minutes before it leads to a complete and total shutdown."

John's eyebrows knitted together into a frown.

"Are you telling me that you guys can die if you eat the wrong kind of fish?"

To John's surprise, there were many nods from the crowd.

"Why…" John began and stopped himself from verbalizing his thoughts. It really didn't make sense for androids to have such a weakness, but then again, what creator would possibly design that on purpose?

He was pretty sure that, by virtue of being machines, short of eating battery acid or thermite, they shouldn't be waylaid by a goddamn fish. What, were mackerels the equivalent of pufferfish for androids or something?

Again, John found himself wrestling with how that could even be plausible. However, he still had people waiting for his answer.

"Uh…right. I guess, just chalk it up to a human thing?" John hedged, only to see looks of awe and a chorus of "ooooh" at that fact.

"Humans are different after all," a child-like boy said.

"Of course they are. They created us, you know!" A gruff man knocked on his chest for added effect.

"It makes sense if you think about it," another android said, this time an older, taller woman.

Even Jackass looked satisfied.

Right…

"Umm… Next?" John pointed at one of the new ones that arrived.

"Hnngh! Uhh…mister human…sir…" The female android twiddled her thumb nervously. "D-d-do you think the reason why other humans haven't visited us is because w-we're doing a bad job?"

That question seemed to suck the air out of the area, and all of their eyes were staring at him with trepidation. White looked…well, guilty if her human expression was correct. He wondered about that, but he looked at all of the androids evenly for a moment and then exhaled deeply.

"I don't know why they're not around more often, and since I've never met them, I can't speak for them."

John looked at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

"However, what I can tell you—based on everything I have seen—is that I couldn't be any prouder, and I'd like to think that those who I call my friends and family would feel the same way."

John tore his eyes from the girl to look at the people in the crowd so that they would know that he meant this for all of them as well.

"You've all accomplished and sacrificed so much for humanity, far more than what should have ever been asked of you."

He saw the wide-eyed shocked looks directed at him, and these didn't invoke happy thoughts in him.

"To me, you embodied the best traits of mankind. Where others would have broke in these long wars, you still fought on despite all the difficulties."

John stood up slowly.

"And so, there is one thing I would like to say to each and every android here as well as those out fighting in the field and those lost throughout the long centuries."

John gave a glance to everyone but locked eyes briefly with Devola and Popola. Looking back at the crowd, he straightened up and raised his right hand in a salute.

"Thank you for all your service."

There was a much longer silence as the androids processed his words. It lasted for a few moments before, as one, they forgot to raise their hands and simply started talking all at once.

"No, no, no! It's only right that we do our job!"

"That's what we were made for. Of course, we would!"

"T-t-thank you for your praise!"

John Connor let out the breath that he was holding as those words and many more flowed over him. Lowering his hand, he looked at the excited and happy faces in the crowd. Some part of him expected some levels of anger since they had been saddled with an unreasonable duty, but there was none to be had. As he stood there, taking it all in, some of the shouts and words died down, only to be revived in the conversations with each other.

"Alright, enough of that! It's time to get back to work!" Anemone clapped her hands loudly while shouting over the din of noise to catch everyone's attention. "With the mess that YoRHa left behind, we got a bunch to do today. Let's get to it."

John could see that the crowd was reluctant to go, but they were professional enough to not complain too much about it. After a few loud grumblings, his audience began dispersing, though he could see many glanced back at him multiple times, as if worried that he would somehow turn into thin air. It took a few minutes before most of the androids left. As for the ones that lingered, Anemone's stern glare was usually enough to send them packing. However, there were a few who weren't as affected.

"Jackass, isn't there something you need to do," Anemone said in an exasperated and annoyed tone.

"I'll do it later."

"He already answered your question, didn't he? Just get going."

"Fine, fine."

As if corralling a stray animal, Anemone left with Jackass, probably to ensure that she didn't come right back. Commander White, seeing the opportunity, walked up to him with 1B in tow. He could see Devola and Popola tensing up at their approach.

"White."

"J-John. Sir."

"Is my first name really that hard to say?"

"No, I'm just unused to it," Commander White said. "I wanted to talk to you about where we go from here. The council is working on a way to get you to the moon."

"Like I said before, I'd like to speak to them first before any talk about moving to the moon happens. When is that, by the way?"

"They're currently working on that. I don't have a time estimate, but it should be soon," she answered. "In the meantime, my orders are to protect you and secure the surrounding areas further. Reinforcements will be arriving within a few days to help with that task."

"They're really bringing out a lot of forces just for little old me, huh." John looked pointedly around at the veritable army in the camp. "Though, aren't there already enough soldiers here for that?"

White followed his gaze and shook her head.

"No, there are far more machine lifeforms than androids. The Army of Humanity has almost always faced unfavorable conditions," she said. "Even when commencing a surprise attack, we suffered heavy losses for significant but relatively low territorial gains. However, a push-back may happen in the near future, and that will necessitate a much larger safe zone in order to maintain a proper battle-line."

"Just how large are we talking about here?"

"The entire peninsula."

~o~

Author's Note: If you want to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi. I would really appreciate it. Thank you again, Yoko and Megris Vernin!

Thanks to Vahn for editing!

So yeah, there were a couple of power outages due to the heat that made me lose progress each time. Quite a lot of progress actually. I wasn't quite pissed, but it felt tiring enough that I had to take some time to recover from that. And when I did, I forgot what I wrote.

Derp, derp.

Ah, that feel when you are rewriting something, but think that it's not as good as the original…

Even when I got past that part, I can't help but feel I missed a few things, though I can't remember what. As a writer that relies mostly on instinct, writing through this feeling of wrongness was very difficult. However, that is the purpose of this practice story in the first place. To learn to overcome the weaknesses that I had mostly ignored when I used Vahn as a crutch.

Anyways, can someone recommend me a good writing software for Windows that auto-saves frequently?