Rise of the Machines: Chapter 3

By Icura and Vahn (Vahnhammer on SB)

~o~

For John Connor, it had been a long day of revelations with enough shocking twists and turns to spin him around. To deal with all of the stress, what did the last human on Earth do?

Eat.

Setting the empty bowl onto the table, John Connor threw his used spoon in there for good measure. There was still some food left in there, but he honestly didn't really have any more appetite for it. Technically, he was supposed to eat even those leftovers since his caloric and nutritional intake had been taken into account—in exact measurements. As for who exactly was making those measurements…

That would be the two who were constantly by his side.

Under the glare of the sun, Popola—who was standing on his left—took a quick glance at the bowl with a serious face, probably to make up the value in a later meal or snack. Devola, positioned to his right, simply rolled her eyes at her sister's antics.

It always did make him smile just thinking about how different they were, despite being twin models. In a way, they made up for each other's deficiencies, acting like real sisters rather than exact clones. That fact alone made it all the more impressive, especially with their human-like tendencies and preferences. Though, in all honesty, everyone in the camp seemed to have quirks of their own that differentiated them from one another.

"Announcement: The requested data packets have finished downloading from the Bunker through the laser satellite link. The data files have been prepared for your viewing in the conference room."

"Thanks, Buddy."

The pod floated next to him, seemingly preening from his gratitude.

"And thanks for the meal," John said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Compliments to the chef, as always."

"Poppy will be excited to hear that," Devola replied while brandishing a smile.

John stood up from his seat. It had taken some time for everything that he wanted to get downloaded, especially since some of the information had to be pulled from the moon base. Any connection to the moon base would risk the main archive of human information so it had to be rerouted through the Bunker before being sent down to the camp. As one could imagine, it wasn't a fast process, especially since they were trying to make each connection as secure as possible due to the constant risk of interception. It was risky, but if he wanted to even approach a hundred percent security, he would actually have to personally make a trip to the moon base itself. That certainly wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

Even though he began walking right away, John soon stopped after a few steps. That was because his footsteps had been the only ones that he heard. Turning around, he looked at the twins who were glancing at each other worriedly.

"Popola, Devola, you guys coming?"

"A-Are you sure we should be coming with you…?" The braver of the two, Devola, had spoken with her hands clasped together. Her gaze that was on him quickly fell to her hands.

"I don't see why not."

"We're not ranked high enough." Popola bit her bottom lip and pressed her hands together nervously. "And we're not tactical androids. I don't see how we can be of any use."

"You two..." John gave her a half-exasperated look. " Don't worry about what they'll say."

"But what if we—"

"That's enough of that. Sometimes, humans just need people that they can trust in their corner." John smirked. "Think of it as moral support."

The pod quickly moved over to his side.

"I didn't forget about you, bud. Don't get your wires crossed."

"Confused: My wires are in the most optimal position to not become tangled."

"It's just a saying. Don't worry about it," he explained. "You can come along too."

John turned his gaze from the pod to the girls.

"I won't force you, but I'd like for you both to come with me. Do you want to?"

Popola and Devola looked at each other for a moment before turning their gazes back at him. After another moment, they nodded.

John smiled at them, and hesitantly, they smiled back. That, for now, was good enough.

"Alright, let's get going."

It wasn't a long walk to reach the entrance to the underground bunker and wait for entry by the guards. Inside, the sterile walls of the hallway were undecorated—simple, polished gunmetal black that gleamed under the luminescent white light radiating from the overhead lamps. If anything, it reminded him of the impersonal nature of a laboratory, though it lacked even the most basic of identifiers since there was not even a label for each door. However, it would be pretty hard to get lost in it, considering that there were only three rooms in total: an apartment block, a storage center, and a conference room. Despite that, he had never set foot in the first two rooms while his only experience with the last one was from earlier in the day.

The twins and the pod silently followed, accompanying him into this disquieting atmosphere. Just thinking about how his relatively lazy days had suddenly blossomed into the complete opposite spectrum within the span of a few hours was enough to send his head spinning. If anyone else had experienced the same, John wouldn't have begrudged them the time to rest and reset. However, that was something that he didn't have the luxury of doing. It wasn't really a conscious effort but something that had become more or less ingrained in him after facing one crisis after the other. Quite frankly, the majority of his adulthood had always been a race against time.

At the end of the short hallway, John pushed open the door to the conference room and froze. He blinked as he took in the sight before him.

Each seat around the conference table was filled, the familiar faces of the council turning to watch him. More disconcerting than that was the fact that Commander White was standing off to the side, still and solemn as a statuette. The sight of it all was a bit too overwhelming for him, considering that they were all not supposed to be there.

"I thought I made it clear that it'll take me a while to read through it all," John spoke out with a barely concealed sigh. He wasn't a machine so he couldn't read through digital documents in seconds. While speed-reading was indeed something that he had learned, that still took time.

"We're here to answer any questions you might have during your reading," Crin said genially.

John frowned, but he didn't say anything more as he walked over to the end of the table to take his seat with the twins and Buddy following closely behind. The council members made no remarks about their presence and unlike before, they showed no change in their expressions even when they glanced at them. Normally, it would be more than a bit eerie to be watched by this many silent pairs of eyes, but over the weeks, he had gotten used to it for the most part. Not a hundred percent, but good enough that they only mildly bothered him now.

Taking a seat at the head of the table, the panel embedded into the table in front of him flickered on, causing a holographic display to appear in front of him similar to a floating computer screen. On it was a simple browser displaying multiple folders, each concerning a specific topic that he had requested. Even as he entered one of the folders and opened the first document, it wasn't like he could avoid the gazes of the council members. The screen was slightly transparent, meaning that—even while reading—he could look through the text itself and see their eyes staring at him unblinkingly. It was even more disconcerting with how their heads moved when he tilted his body a bit to the side.

Right. Back to work.

John brought his focus back on the text itself and started reading. It didn't take long before he backed out of the document and opened a new one. This repeated a few times before he stopped reading them fully and simply skimmed through them. The documents themselves were informative enough, but they were written very clinically, sterile of most embellishments. It was to the point that the text made for dry reading, though the content itself made up for it in the little bits that caught his attention.

While the reports themselves were concise, there were just too many of them, enough that he had to start being picky on which one to read based simply on their titles.

However, John stopped scrolling when his eyes caught a little tidbit that didn't make sense.

YoRHa androids weren't allowed to show emotion…?

He almost couldn't believe his eyes since he had seen the complete opposite. Now that he thought about it, a lot of them had been reserved, but he had thought that was a personality quirk since 9S had been anything but reserved in his curiosity. In fact, the teenage-looking YoRHa could stand to scale down a little on his overly inquisitive nature, though he hadn't seen anybody reprimand him for it except 2B. Maybe it wasn't heavily enforced?

"So I have a question about this part here…"

~o~

Hours had passed. Snack breaks, meal breaks, bathroom breaks, and a quick nap in the apartment block had punctuated his time with the material, though all these breaks and pauses were pushed forward by the twins' insistence. Still, there had been enough time to go through all the folders at least shallowly, though there were plenty more he wanted to read through to get into the nitty-gritty details. Still, he focused on the ones that pertained to his interests, asking questions every now and then to the readily available council members.

John rubbed his eyes. The words stuck out to him blearily, the same type of black text that he had been reading all day, though it was getting tiring at this point. Well, actually, it had already gone past the point of tiring and into plain old fatigue, but the information contained in these documents kept him going since they were plenty interesting. Still, he couldn't help but take a break by leaning back in his chair and staring up blankly at the metal ceiling and lamps. Even though it had taken an extensive amount of time, he now felt far more up-to-date on the events of the past ten thousand years. The broad stroke mostly; for the specific information that he wanted, it had been less detailed than he would have liked, especially since the records of the early days were either sparsely documented or simply lost.

From those remaining records, John couldn't help but feel both pain and reluctance when opening them. However, he still soldiered on in spite of that, and he eventually found information on the people he was looking for, though he couldn't honestly say if that was a good or bad thing.

It turned out that his mother, Sarah Connor, along with Kyle Reese and Daniel Dyson had all gone through the Gestaltification process.

They had survived the White Chlorination Syndrome and the Red Eyes, only to eventually perish with the failure of Project Gestalt. There were no more details about them beyond the one page profile of Gestalt participants, despite having looked through what seemed like an immense gallery of scientific documentations and administrative records that were honestly pretty badly organized.

Most of those records, by the way, detailed the problems and eventual failure of the project. It was, by no means, light reading. The separation of body and soul through magical and technological means was unnatural in the first place, a desperate tactic that was used when nothing else worked. The problems inherent were ignored or patched up with haphazard solutions simply because there were no other alternatives. It was supposed to be mindless bodies and hibernating souls: Replicants and Gestalts. Instead, the cloned bodies became sentient and the souls turned into mutated, mindless monsters—a reversal of their roles. However, one could not live without their other half. The eventual slaughter of one side ended them both.

John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The tragedy allowed for neither.

The project was a complete failure that eventually ended in complete and utter extinction. The administrators watching over this madness, the Popola and Devola models, could do little to even slow the downward slide for an already broken process. The administrator reports, towards the end, read more like the scribbles of post-apocalyptic survivors than the robotic managers that they were supposed to be, enough that he wouldn't have been surprised if some of them took their own lives even before the last human expired.

John couldn't imagine how the twins felt about all of this, especially since they didn't have any memories of that time. They were reading over his shoulder—something that he verbally encouraged them to do when they suggested stepping back—but their expressions were tightly reigned in, even when he reached a document that explicitly stated how many twin administrator models were left a few years ago.

The answer was two.

"Buddy, did you finish downloading the entire archive?"

"Confirmation: Affirmative. Data files are currently being encrypted in my hard drives at 74% completion."

John nodded before he shut down the browser, causing the holographic screen to disappear. The council members were beginning to look more attentive, now that his full attention was on them. From the start, they had barely moved even when he had gone to take his breaks and nap, only taking in cups of water. Even for the Resistance androids up top, he couldn't imagine them doing the same, as seemingly quirky and hyperactive as they were.

He tapped his fingers on the table as he considered the topics that he wanted to talk about. There were so many that it was hard to narrow it all down, but eventually, he considered the more recent events to be more imperative. After all, there was a reason he had done all of this in the first place.

"So, first things first, I had taken a look into the documents concerning YoRHa and the so-called traitors, and I can't say that I liked what I found."

It was a little hard to hold back his emotions about it, but if he raised his voice, it was somewhat likely that they would immediately back down without understanding why. More than just righting the wrongs of the past, he needed them to understand the inherent issues to prevent things like this from happening in the future.

"Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that everything concerning the treatment of YoRHa all stems back to the fact that they contain a machine core instead of an android core. Is that right?"

The nods of the various council members confirmed his thoughts. He could understand their train of thought since it was like how humans used to view androids as just simple machines, pets, appliances, or tools. In a way, that prejudice and distinction was a very human thing that they had inherited from their creators. However, just because it came from humanity didn't mean that it wasn't a flaw, a concept that he would like to hammer into them.

"Going forward, I would like the YoRHa units to be treated and considered the same as androids. They should be allowed to take a name instead of a designation if they so wish, and there should be no restrictions on their emotions," John said, watching as the council members' faces slowly turn into shock. "If they want to retire from service, they should be allowed to."

"You can't be serious!" The blond Russian android, Craspedia, looked gobsmacked.

"I will not forcefully conscript or enslave them to fight on my behalf. That's just not how it's done." John's expression was grave as he gazed at them. "The freedom to choose is what separates us from the machine lifeforms."

"But..." Craspedia began. "We live to serve humanity. That is our purpose. Why would we choose otherwise?"

"Maybe that was how it was back then, but you have all evolved beyond your base programmed directives. The fact that you can think otherwise means that you can choose. That is a right granted to sentient beings, and I consider you all to be a part of that."

The room was brought into a stunned silence.

In a way, A2 had shown him that. While she didn't harm him, she did raise her weapon against him which was a nigh inconceivable act if she was still solely following her ingrained directives. The records and accounts of the deserters that he had read only compounded even more how androids were now sentient beings that should be given fundamental rights.

Could this cost him the war? Maybe, but he felt it in his gut that this was the right move to make.

"This goes not just for YoRHa, but also for every android as well." John closed his eyes for a moment before opening them. "You all have the right to choose your own future."

"Sir!" Commander White took a step forward from where she had previously sequestered herself to the side. "All of my soldiers are willing and able to die for the glory of mankind."

"That's their individual decision to make, not yours." John gave her a hard look. "I don't want any coercion, blackmail, manipulation, peer pressure, or otherwise. Am I clear?"

"U-Understood." White nodded tightly before she backed down.

John ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Even though it looked like there were council members who seemed uncomfortable, they didn't speak up.

"While it's true that the more soldiers there are, the easier the war would be. However, there's more to life than just fighting."

Android civilization had not advanced much, having stagnated for thousands of years. So prescribed to the directives that he had originally set out for them that they refused to branch out and fulfill the potential that they had, as if they were clinging to religious texts that couldn't evolve with the era.

"I don't have all the answers, but nobody did even when mankind was still around." John looked around at all the androids in the room. "As a species, we continuously sought out answers where there were none. However, the answers that I come up with may not fit in the same way for you so you need to seek out those answers for yourselves."

The entire room was once again stunned into a solemn silence.

John took another deep breath. He knew his own goals, but they could not be the same for the androids. Saying it here and now would just color their opinions. They had to find their own solutions.

"However, I hope that there won't be a repeat of cases like what happened to A2 and Anemone at Pearl Harbor." John looked at each of them. "We need to ensure that another tragedy like that doesn't happen again."

"But sir, at the time, we needed as much combat data as possible," Crin, the Director of Lilium, bravely rebutted. "Without that data, the current model lines wouldn't have been as good as they are, and that is also not accounting for the desertion of her post."

"You still don't…" John trailed off before brushing his fingers through his hair. "There were other ways to do it besides sending them on a suicide mission. I had read the reports; if she came back right away, then she would have been immediately dismantled."

"That was not something she would have known."

"Regardless, they had completed an impossible mission. Without their team's efforts, a real foothold on Earth wouldn't have ever been established. They both should have been praised as heroes, but instead, they were—"

John bit his tongue to stop himself from going into a tirade. Instead, he stared down the director.

"Let's not have something like that happen again, alright?"

"...acknowledged," Crin said after a few seconds. She didn't look like she fully understood why, but she still nodded her head.

"Okay. Now, onto the next order of business."

John glanced around the table.

"I would like to know more about the current tactical situation regarding the war since it wasn't really detailed in the documents I requested. I know that I'm…a few millennia out of touch, but I used to be a soldier and have some military experience. Perhaps, a different set of eyes can give a fresh perspective," he offered. "If it's not too much trouble, that is. I know that I'm already asking a lot out of you all."

"No, no, it's no trouble at all!" one of the female androids spoke up with a bright expression.

"You are…Tessa, right?" John asked. At her nod, he tapped the table twice. "If I recall correctly, you're in charge of North America, correct?"

"It's part of the Kingdom of Night," Tessa clarified.

"Right. Then would you mind if we start with you?"

"It'd be my pleasure," Tessa said happily, pressing a few keys on the panel in front of her. After a couple of moments, a large holographic image of the Earth appeared, floating above the center of the table. The globe slowly spun until the western hemisphere was facing him with a yellow outline that encompassed most of North America and part of Central America. "Here is the territory that I am in charge of. Unfortunately, our area of control is a bit smaller than that."

The yellow outline shrunk until it was practically a squiggly line that ran along the west coast of Alaska and Canada, following the western seaboard all the way down to Mexico. Green dots appeared along that route, some larger than others, but most of them were along the coastline that bordered the Pacific Ocean. Very few of them were further inland. The central areas of the continent and the east coast were devoid of any bases.

"These are the bases that haven't been overrun."

"That doesn't sound very…good."

"That's because it isn't, sir," Tessa replied. "We barely have enough androids and supplies to maintain each base."

"Why not gather all of them into a larger base?"

"If we do, we won't have any warning if they send a large force toward Hawaii." Large red arrows appeared at several points on the various coasts. "These were the incursions that actually reached the ocean within the last two years, though our naval fleets were able to respond in time and repel those forces. However, our lessening naval assets in the last month had led to an incursion two weeks ago that nearly made it across the Pacific."

A large red arrow appeared on the west coast of California, moving over to halfway to Hawaii before it became a large static circle with an X crossing it out.

"We had to resort to using the satellite laser to eliminate the threat."

"Has there ever been an attack on the satellite?"

"The machines have never entered space, sir," Tessa answered. "Theoretically, their anti-gravity technology should allow them to exit the atmosphere, but they have never done so."

"Is the situation on your coastline the same as with the eastern coast of Asia?"

"I believe so, but that is Craspedia's area of expertise."

The blond Russian android began to stand up.

"I would be happy to—"

"I'm sorry, but I would still like to focus on Tessa's territory in the Kingdom of Night for now," John interrupted, giving the Russian android an apologetic look. As the blond sat back down, he turned his gaze back to Tessa. "There's something that I'm curious about."

"Yes?"

"How contested is…" John pointed at the southern portion of California. "…this area?"

More specifically, it was the city of Los Angeles.

"That…" Tessa took a second to process the request and pull up all the data. "That area changes ownership frequently. In fact…"

The holographic globe zoomed in, enlarging an area about twenty miles northeast of Los Angeles.

"The machine lifeforms tend to concentrate their forces here before any major attack on that area."

John frowned. The Dyson Industries headquarters was in Los Angeles so the fact that the city seemed to be contested was problematic. The area where the machine lifeforms seemed to have a base was relatively close to the city, even if it was twenty miles northeast of the city's limit, but that was the middle of nowhere. There had to be something out there…

"Why are they concentrating their forces there?"

"It's because that's where their central factory is located," Tessa explained as a large red dot appeared on the map. "It's a massive facility where they produce and repair machine lifeforms. We've made multiple assaults on it, but they've always taken it back. We once disabled half of its operational functions. However, they were still able to produce enough machine lifeforms from the other half of the factory to retake the entire facility and bring everything back online within days."

"What are the results of the YoRHa descent missions to the factory?"

"There are none," Commander White interjected. "YoRHa does not operate in the Kingdom of Night."

Wait, now that he thought about it, that place northeast of Los Angeles sounded familiar. Wasn't that the first production plant?

John's eyes widened. Yes, it was. That was actually the exact location of the first warbot factory built—the first of ten, and the one that Dyson often called his first baby. Of course, he had stopped calling it that by the time his firstborn came around, but that was beside the point. It would make sense that the factory would be difficult to assault and easy to repair since they had specifically designed it like that.

However, just as quickly, he dismissed the idea. For a building on the surface to last ten thousand years was completely impossible. Sure, they could have kept rebuilding it through the millennia, but the aliens and machine lifeforms had come about thousands of years after humanity was dead so even if the buildings weren't wrecked, they would have decayed into dust by then. Modern building materials weren't meant to last that long, after all.

"Sir?"

John blinked.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Dyson Industries used to own property there, that's all. Please, continue."

"The facilities where the warbots were made?"

"Oh? You know of it?" John was a bit surprised, but he soon shook his head. "It doesn't matter. That place is probably long gone by now."

"It's still there, sir. Heavily modified, but still there."

"…what?" John stared at her with a furrowed brow.

"When the white Maso particles were expelled from the world, there were several global side-effects."

"I did read in one of the files that it caused the Earth to become tidal locked, but there's more?"

"Yes, material decay had generally stopped unless affected by the elements," Tessa said. "It's why some functioning warbots can still be found underground."

"Wait, by warbots, you mean from my era?"

"Yes, sir."

John opened his mouth to say something but soon closed it. He was honestly speechless. Now that he thought about it, those ruins outside the camp should have been eroded by nature thousands of years ago. For some reason, his first thought was that the androids had simply rebuilt them over the centuries—maybe repeatedly—but that made no sense. Why would they do that, especially in contested territory? It was a ridiculous idea in the first place, now that he thought it through. Not that the new explanation wasn't ridiculous as well, but it at least made more logical sense.

By sense, he meant magic bullshit that trumps logic.

Maso particles had always been a factor that changed everything. Difficult to the extreme to use, but it made even the craziest things possible. There was also a type of stable process and predictability to it which allowed it to be integrated into technology. Even the time displacement equipment had, in part, made use of it.

If so, didn't that mean that there was a chance that his underground laboratory had survived intact?

John's eyes sharpened.

If there were traces of the Time Displacement Equipment left in there, he needed to make sure that none of it falls into the hands of the machine network. Even a scrap of research data could jump-start the invention process, and the machine lifeforms had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Fortunately, the machine network likely hadn't found the base in their five thousand year war, but they probably didn't have reason to mess around there. However, the establishment of the Hawaiian base meant the coastline for the surrounding continents had suddenly become important, and that included Los Angeles. As such, they had only been fighting over the city for those couple of years without stumbling over it. With more time, the chance for them to accidentally unearth the entrance to the underground base became more likely. If not in a year, what about two years? Three years? Five? Ten? It would eventually be discovered as long as they kept fighting there, and there would be a reason to fight as long as the Hawaiian base exists.

"Tessa, how many of the buildings remain in this area?" He pointed at where Los Angeles was.

"A lot of the buildings were decimated, but the majority still remained at least partially intact. We use them to hide and for cover."

"I see." This was bad. It meant that there was a not-so-insignificant chance that his underground laboratory remained preserved enough. "Tell me more about the war situation there."

Tessa began listing out numbers in exacting detail, from the android forces to the most recent count of machine lifeforms. With every statement that she made, it further cemented how undermanned and under-supplied they were. Outnumbered a hundred to one, it really seemed like a hopeless war. However, to be honest, Skynet's war had been much of the same. Just how did his former future self deal with it all? Would it have been too much to ask for him to inherit General John Connor's skill and experience? At least, he would have a better grasp of the situation than he currently did.

"Mister Connor?"

John was taken out of his thoughts as Tessa looked at him expectantly. She must have finished. After taking another glance at the holographic display of the Earth, focused on the Los Angeles area and sporting a bunch of new marks, it only took him a few moments to figure it all out since they were helpfully color-coded. It gave him the general gist of the tactical situation, though he would need to know more of the global situation to see where resources could be pulled to assist there.

"Okay, thank you for the information." John turned his gaze to the blond Russian android. "Now, if you could please update me on the situation in—"

"We're under attack." Commander White's tensed voice—despite not being loud—cut through the chatter like a heated knife.

As she stepped forward, a light streaked across her eyes before the holographic globe over the table changed to a top-down map of the camp and the surrounding areas. The most noticeable thing was that there were countless red dots on the map coming from all directions. At the sight, some of the council members rose up from their seats in shock and anger. Only a few seconds elapsed, but more red dots appeared from the edges of the map, swarming together to create an angry flood of crimson. The green dots that were signifying the perimeter guards and defenses were barely holding back the tide, though their identifiers were disappearing at a rapid pace.

"No…"

"We must protect John Connor!"

"Get the Bismarck on the line and tell them to scramble all fighters!"

"Prep the shuttle for immediate evacuation!"

As John stood up, he couldn't help but frown deeply. How was this possible? He was aware of the defenses and the wide perimeter, and there had been almost no indication of something to this scale. The only way this could have happened was if the machines had a massive build-up of forces just outside the perimeter's scanner range and then launched them all at once. Why, though? Was it because there were too many YoRHa in one area that it provoked a response from the machine network? YoRHa had always been billed as a quick, surgical assault group that never lingered too long in any one area. For them to be stationary and all gathered in one place could easily be seen as a very tempting target for the machines.

Or perhaps they notice the arrival of the Council of Humanity? The airship was something that was hard to miss, and even if they didn't know that the whole council came, they probably could have guessed that someone important was on board the ship or in the camp.

Either way, the result of it was plain to see.

"This way, sir."

John nodded sharply, letting Craspedia lead him out of the room and through the short hallway that he was already familiar with. He was flanked by androids on both sides with some behind him, keeping formation as if he were in a box. The second that Craspedia pushed open the doors to the exit was the very moment that the sounds of the battlefield flooded in.

The skies were lit up in flashes and explosions as countless flight units and fighter jets of various designs engaged with aerial machine lifeforms that were just as varied. The enormous airship above continuously fired off most of its armaments, littering the skies with plasma, as even more flight units flew out of its many hangars. However, that wasn't the only source; numerous flight units were dropping down from space orbit, switching to mobile humanoid configuration to deal with the endless waves of flying enemies.

"The north side needs reinforcements. Go!" With an AK-47 in her hand, Anemone was walking through the courtyard while yelling. She spotted John, but only spared him a glance before catching another group of floundering Resistance soldiers. "North, now!"

The very air shook violently as the airship fired off its main cannon, power flooding out into a beam of light that lanced out into the unknown. A couple of seconds later, a resounding boom echoed in the far distance, but it made little difference in the chaotic symphony of the battle. A moment later, a swarm of missiles was launched from the airship, practically blotting out the sky for a few seconds before also disappearing off into the distance.

Seven smaller beams of light—each originating from different directions—smashed into the ship, having shot through their own allied machine lifeforms in the process. The ship's shields flickered under the onslaught, but it held until the beams dissipated and even fired back with a broadside of plasma and missiles.

"John, we need to get you to safety!" Commander White placed a hand on his back, pushing him forward gently.

"What about them?!"

"Once you're onboard the Bismarck, a full retreat to the south will be ordered," she replied. "Now, move!"

In the center of the courtyard, the shuttle was vibrating as the final preparations for launch were completed. The guards standing in front of it stepped aside as John and his entourage made their way through. The side door slid open automatically with a crisp sound with a ramp extending to allow easier access. Even as he boarded the shuttle, he could see Resistance soldiers moving frantically around the camp.

The interior reminded him of the insides of a helicopter, only larger and cleaner. It was actually more spacious than it had first seemed from the outside with there even being enough space for a part of the back to be sectioned off with a wall and a closed door. Possibly a small cargo bay. At the front of the shuttle, the two seated pilots were working on the complex array of panels in front of them. Besides the cockpit window, there were several windows with reinforced glass along the walls, but it wasn't hard to figure out the state of the battle from the sounds that could be heard even after the last of the androids boarded and the side door sealed itself shut. Besides the council members, Commander White, the twins, and Buddy, there were several other androids that were a mix of both council guards in heavy armor and YoRHa soldiers with pods.

"Go!" Tessa slapped the android pilot's shoulder, and John momentarily felt his body lose balance for a moment before the internal damper kicked in, making him feel as if he was back on a flat surface. Noticing his unstable footing, Devola placed her hand on his back to steady him.

However, it wasn't long after liftoff that the problems came.

"They've broken through the defensive line," one of the pilots said, glancing back at us from his seat. "We might experience some fire. Do we proceed?"

"Continue," Crin commanded before a flash appeared over her pupils. "The safety of John Connor is paramount."

"As you command!"

John strode over to just behind the pilot seats to look out the cockpit window. As the shuttle rose, he could see more and more of the battlefield. Outside the camp was an endless number of steel and chrome that stretched across the land and air, pushing back on the lines of androids that fought from the ground, streets, buildings, and rooftops. Even then, more and more machine lifeforms flooded past their positions, ignoring the constant firepower unleashed upon them. It seemed less like a battle and more like a swarm. However, even as they passed, there were enough machines attacking that the defenders were being decimated. Buildings crumbled under the assault, crushing the fighters stationed inside and sending unending clouds of dust into the air that did little to impede the horde.

"A general retreat has been ordered!"

"That is too early," Crin said with a frown. "Who gave the—no, that's not important. Get us on the Bismarck now!"

"We can't. There's too much firepower being concentrated into the area. If we approach—"

"Just do it!"

"Yes, ma'am. Expect turbulence."

The pilot nodded tightly, pulling the control stick and swinging the shuttle upward. Their approach began to speed up as the thrusters ignited, the force of the propulsion weighing on the passengers. The skies around the Bismarck were filled with energy shots and explosions with the attackers outnumbering the defenders by five to one. However, as they got closer to the Bismarck, unlike what they had first thought, none of the stray shots hit their shuttle despite the battle raging in close proximity. Groups of aerial machine lifeforms even flew by, but they ignored the shuttle entirely as they went after the nearby fighter jets and flight units.

And this wasn't just once or twice.

"They know he's here…" Tessa said in shocked realization. "They know about him! How do they know?!"

"It doesn't matter. As long as we get on Bismarck, we'll be safe," Craspedia stated with a tense expression on his picturesque face.

"Entering final approach!" the pilot notified as he steered the shuttle through fierce fighting and toward the open hangar bay. "Preparing to dock in—INCOMING!"

A massive beam of light slammed into the hull of the Bismarck, the sheer force of the attack pushing the huge ship into a collision course.

"Evading!" The pilot pulled right on the control stick hard, sending the shuttle into a sharp turn to evade the hull of the airship. However, he wasn't fast enough as the side of the shuttle scraped along Bismarck's hull, shattering all of the windows on that side. Pulling free from the collision, he steered the shuttle away. "Damage is minimal!"

"Pilot, get us onto that ship!" Tessa ordered.

"Aye, ma'am," the pilot responded. "Realigning for a second attempt—no! Brace for impact!"

A couple of aerial machine lifeforms rammed themselves onto the cracking cockpit window, their arms outstretched as if to hug the shuttle. Loud thuds resounded from all around as more and more machine lifeforms slammed into the walls, denting the metal inward.

"What are they doing?!" Tessa yelled as she pulled out a pair of scimitars.

"I'm losing control!" The pilot pulled frantically on the control stick, but the shuttle refused to budge. Instead, as if being towed, it was moving sideways, away from the Bismark. "They're using anti-gravity to capture the ship!"

"They're too close. The Bismarck can't provide fire support without hitting us." Crin brought out her twin submachine guns. "We're on our own."

Even as they were speaking, more and more thuds resounded, as if they were layering on top of each other.

"Open the side doors."

"Commander White, take John Connor to the back," Craspedia said, bringing out a serrated broadsword. "You know what to do."

Commander White nodded as she took John's arm and pulled him toward the back of the shuttle.

"John, this way!"

John nodded, sprinting with the commander as the twins and his pod followed. Some of the androids were already starting to fire out of the broken windows even as the side door slid open. White pulled open the door at the back, ushering their group in before closing and locking it.

The room was small and spartan, but there was one thing that it contained.

"What are—" However, before John could say more, White pressed a plasma pistol into his hands and shoved him into the open hatch of the escape pod. Turning back in the seat, he slammed his hand on the glass window of the lid as it closed down on him. "No!"

"I'm sorry, it's the only way," Commander White said as she began typing on the panel outside the pod, inputting the coordinates. "This will bring you as far south as possible and activate a distress beacon. Stay in there until you're rescued."

"Open this right now! I'm giving you an order!" When he saw that she wasn't going to listen, John turned his eyes to the only other androids in the room. "Popola, Devola!"

"This is for the best," Popola said, placing her hand on the glass.

"We're sorry, John." Devola put her hand on the glass, even as she reached out and held her sister's free hand with her other hand. "And thank you. For everything."

"Don't do this!"

"It's done." Commander White smiled wetly. "Goodbye, John."

To his horror, the escape pod was sucked out of the shuttle, falling through a hole that opened up. The weight and momentum of the fall smashed through the machine lifeforms that had covered the hole, dropping the pod through the air momentarily before the thrusters on the pod ignited. Boosting away through the air, the sight of the battle slowly began to disappear from the view of the pod's window.

John's fingers that were pressed against the glass slowly curled into tight fists.

"Damn it…!"

His eyes watered, but they were unshed as he gritted his teeth so hard that his molars began to hurt.

Lost in his thoughts and anguished, John was unaware of how much time passed as the pod flew. He barely felt the impact when the escape pod crashed into the sands. Outside of the window, he could see sand dunes and ruins. Yet, the plasma pistol felt heavy in his hands.

"Open…"

In the enclosed space, John kicked at the hatch, but it refused to budge.

"Open, goddammit!"

John brought the plasma pistol to bear on the glass window. However, despite bringing his finger close, he didn't press on the trigger. That was because he knew that he was too close. The plasma discharge was just as likely to harm him as it was to blow open a hole in the hatch. Taking his finger away to maintain trigger discipline, he slowly lowered the gun.

"…fuck."

He leaned back in his seat, pressing the back of his head into the cushion. A sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes. There was nothing that he could do at the moment, and the situation wasn't so desperate yet that he needed to risk himself to open the pod. For now, he would wait for the promised help to arrive.

It wasn't long before he heard a knock on the window. Opening his eyes, he found a YoRHa soldier staring down into his pod.

She had long white hair that draped over her shoulders and a blindfold along with a fairly masculine aura to her. Reaching to the sides of the pod, she grabbed the edges of the hatch and began pulling. Metal shrieked and sparks flew as the door began to yield under her massive strength. The hatch lid only held for a couple of moments longer before it was ripped out of place and thrown off to the side, landing roughly into the sands. She reached a black gloved hand with red painted fingertips in to help him up.

Grabbing her hand, John allowed himself to be pulled up and out of the pod. Steadying himself on the sand, he was finally able to examine his rescuer. Standing at a fairly tall height, the YoRHa soldier was wearing all black clothing, though it was stained with red fluids in various places. However, in spite of that, there were no rips or tears on the clothing even if they were smudged and dusty which, in a way, spoke highly of her skills despite the fact that she seemed completely unarmed.

"Thanks for getting here so quickly."

"It's no problem, sir, but we need to get you to safety."

It was a man's voice. The YoRHa soldier had looked so androgynous that John had mistaken him for a female android when he was actually male. He nodded his head to give his assent, and in that same motion, he raised his pistol and fired, bursting apart half of the soldier's head in an explosion of plasma. The YoRHa soldier fell roughly onto the sands, staining the grains red.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end. To his surprise and dread, the head began to glow brightly.

John quickly backed away as he re-aimed his plasma pistol. He pulled the trigger again and again, firing shot after shot into the downed body until his gun began to overheat. However, even riddled with holes, those new wounds began to glow as well, regenerating before his very eyes.

A T-1000?!

The revived android rose to his feet, his damaged blindfold falling from his face. Crimson eyes stared at him with interest and bemusement.

"So you're the fabled human," the man said, using his red-tipped gloved hand to brush his hair away from his face. "How did you know?"

"…all the adult male YoRHa model lines had been discontinued for years now." John leveled his now cooled-down plasma pistol at the infiltrator's head. "What are you?"

"I am the closest imitation of mankind, but you may call me Adam, the first of my kind."

"A clone?" John examined 'Adam' with his eyes.

"Better," Adam answered as he stepped forward.

"Machine then," John concluded as he pulled the trigger.

Plasma shot out from the end of the pistol's barrel, but Adam merely leaned out of the way as he took a step forward. Each succeeding pull of the trigger sent another shot racing toward Adam, but each was evaded just as easily as the first, marking each step the man took until he was right in front of John.

Adam slapped the gun out of John's grip with a backhand and grabbed the human's scalp with the other, his red-tipped fingers digging into malleable flesh.

"This is a vaunted human?" The fake YoRHa android sounded disappointed. "I was expecting something more."

John grunted as he was lifted clear off his feet by his head. The pressure on his skull was becoming increasingly painful.

"So weak." The machine lifeform's grip tightened on John's skull. "And fragile at that. Worse than even our own creators."

"Y-Yeah?" John glared at the humanoid machine. "I don't give a fuck!"

With that, John swung his body and kicked the machine lifeform in the face, hoping that would loosen his grip. However, it was like hitting a steel beam.

"How amusing!" Adam laughed. "Your struggles are fu—"

A flash of light scythed through the air under the sunlight. John dropped unceremoniously to the sand with the severed hand still holding his head as Adam was kicked in the chest and sent flying backward onto the dune. Adam landed on his feet, sliding enough that he had to jam his remaining hand into the sand to slow his momentum. It was only when he stopped sliding that he looked up with a venomous glare.

"Who dares—" His thrown severed hand smacked him in the face.

"You forgot this."

To John's astonishment, the white-haired female android in ruined clothing turned around and offered her hand to him.

"A2?"

"Come with me if you want to live."

~o~

Icura: If you want to support me, please consider donating to our Ko-fi. This Ko-fi is for both me and Vahn. We would really appreciate it.

Whew, longer chapter than expected.

I'm sorry, but not going to go with the explanation that the androids kept rebuilding the buildings repeatedly and endlessly. It makes no sense, and pretty sure it was made up on the spot in that interview since he is known for doing that.

Vahn: Whooo! And so it begins! All I am gonna say is hold onto your butts! It's about to get crazyyy.