Tartar touched the subway train. The lights were off, and the metro felt just as lonely as it had before when he first found that place. He went to the blocked-off car and turned on the lights. He went to the desk and sat down, opening the laptop that was gathering dust. When he turned it on, the Kamabo Co. logo flashed on the screen.
"Files, test subjects, enter."
The data had been sorted out as neatly as possible, likely by Marina, as she'd hacked his system to recover the memories of the Sanitized. They were numbered one through five, but no further. He made a new sub-folder named "six," then minimized the files.
He pulled out his memory chip and inserted it into the laptop. "Alright, let's see if I can sort the rest of these for her. Thank goodness I started backing up my memory chip after I lost it before."
He went through a couple of files and made folders for six through a thousand and three. C. Q. Cumber entered at that moment.
"Sir? What are you doing back here?"
"C. Q.? Oh, I'm just sorting through my Mem Cake files for Marina. You?"
"I heard you vanished and thought you would come back here. I saw you removed the tape from the door and figured this was the only other place you'd be."
"Great!" He looked at C. Q. over his shoulder. "Could you tell Marina to check the files to make sure I did them in a way she'd adore? I want to help her return the Sanitized's memories and possibly find a way to remove the Sanitization from them entirely. Perhaps it'd be easier if you just told her I was here and wanted to see her. Either way, could you find Marina for me please? I'm nearly finished and I still need to double-check to see if I'd found them all. Then I'll need to send the data to Marina' laptop. Perhaps sending it over 'E-Mail' would work?"
"S-sir! You look exhausted! How long have you been awake?"
"Huh? What time is it?"
"Sir, the Splatfest ended nearly a week ago. How long have you been in here?"
Tartar looked at the time on his laptop. It was five in the morning. "Five AM? But I thought it was only one PM when I came in here...Wait, you said the Splatfest ended almost a week ago? It hadn't even begun when I started sorting my files. How long have I been in here?"
"Sir, you've been here for almost a month. Have you gotten any rest at all?"
"C. Q., you may have forgotten, but AI needs no rest. I can stay up all day, every day, like I have for thousands of years!"
"Sir, you have an actual body now. It can get exhausted, and based off those eye bags, tired as well."
Tartar pulled down the tab he was on and looked at his reflection in the black screen. "Hm...Well, I'm almost finished so I'll just continue sorting these files and-"
Eight shut the laptop. "Tartar, this is unhealthy. C. Q. brought me because he knew I'd be able to convince you somehow. But anyways, you need rest! How did you even stay awake this long?"
This time, she wore Studio Octophones and an Octo Layered LS, along with Red High-Tops. Her hair was tied into a ponytail. She was angry, but came off as 'cute' angry rather than actually upset.
"Eight, there you are. I hadn't seen you in a while and-"
She grabbed his wrist without another word and dragged him out the train. She pulled him up a flight of stairs into the bright, burning sunlight.
"My eyes! They burn!" His eyes watered, and he rubbed them off so he could see. "Eight, please warn me next time to plan to force me from my work!" He looked at the tears on his hand. "Is this...Sanitization?"
"Tartar, I know why you're doing this." Eight didn't look him in the eyes.
Tartar tore his hand from her grasp. "Huh? What do you mean? You have no idea what I-"
"You feel bad; don't you?"
"What?"
"For Sanitizing them. You feel bad about it after seeing what Marina made for them. You wanted to help her because you feel bad."
"Yes, you're correct. I do feel terrible. After I saw how kindly Aniya treated me, and how she was still willing to forgive me after our battle, I saw that you were just like the humans, and that was nothing I could change. After all, if a supposedly perfect AI can make a mistake, why should I prevent you from doing as such?"
"Mistakes help us learn and grow. And...you've changed, I can tell. The Tartar I met in the Deepsea Metro would have killed me then and there when I confronted you."
Tartar placed a hand on her shoulder. "And so have you. I haven't fully gone through the memories yet, but I saw some of yours. You used to be such a coward, and now look at you! You stood up to a genocidal maniac, and helped him change for the better."
"Thanks. But...I don't think I want my memories back. I've made so many great, new ones. I don't want to go back to the way things were before, I want to keep living the way I am."
"Are you sure? Eight, if you don't want them, I'm going to get rid of them for good. Is this really what you want?"
"I've thought about this for a while. If I get them back, I might just be hooked up on the past, and I don't want that. So, yes. This is what I want. Sorry for dragging you out here for a little conversation, Tartar."
"It's alright, Eight. I enjoyed talking with you. But I'm going back to my work now, okay? You can come talk to me whenever, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you."
"Of course, Eight."
He walked back to the train, waving farewell to Eight. He opened the laptop and checked to make sure the files were still there. He sighed, relieved that Eight didn't ruin his work.
"Alright, she made up her mind. If I do this, the memories might just be easier to sort through. Select all and delete."
The files cleared out, and a stray Mem Cake on the desk hardened and broke into crumbs.
"I might just be hooked up on the past, and I don't want that. I want to keep living the way I am."
He shook the thoughts off and set a timer for later the evening so he wouldn't over-work again. "Come on, Tartar. You can't get distracted now."
"I can't forgive myself for this! I did the very thing I was supposed to prevent! I was too focused on what the humans wished that I took things badly and completely lost it."
He tried to shake the thoughts again, but they continued haunting him. They kept nagging at his brain. With shaky hands, he did the only thing it would allow him to do. He selected all memories of his professor and the humans; then went to the program to turn them into Mem Cakes.
But he couldn't start the program.
He couldn't do anything with the unsteadiness of his hands. He could feel his pulse accelerate again, and couldn't think straight. He felt like passing out, or even just ceasing to exist, right there in his seat.
He swiped the laptop of the desk. "I-I can't! I...I can't do it." He tucked his legs into his body and rested his face in his hands. "I'm not ready...I don't want to let go."
He took the memory chip out and reinserted it into his head. He rose from his seat and staggered to the door. He hit the ground when he left, and curled into a ball, shaking.
"What's wrong with me...? Why am I shaking so much? Wh...why can't I calm down?"
Eight came running over. "Tartar? Are you okay?! What's wrong?"
He weakly pushed himself from the cold ground. "Eight..."
"I heard a crash and came to see if you were okay! Come on, I'll help you stand."
She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. She rested his arm on her shoulders. He nearly feel again, but she helped keep him steady.
"Tartar, are you okay?"
"I think I've worked enough for today..." A small chunk of his hair fell to the ground with a 'splat.'
"I'm sure C. Q. Cumber can help you. He's in the square, waiting for you."
"Eight...Why help me? Why forgive me? I almost killed you and everything you cared about...And yet you're still so kind to me...Why?"
"Because everyone deserves a second chance, Tartar. Are you supposed to be melting like this? Are you sure you're okay?" She started walking.
He did as well, trying to keep up with her. He lost the energy to walk and let Eight start dragging him. She stopped when the sound of metal scraping the floor.
"Tartar? What's that sound?"
"Just keep going, Eight. Ignore the noise."
She dragged him up the steps and back into the alleyway in Inkopolis Square. She looked around.
"Oh no...It looks like C. Q. Cumber left. We'll have to take the train back to Splatopia, because Sheldon's our next best option. Do you think you can hold off that long, because you're not looking too fresh."
"I'm fine, Eight. But I think I might know what's wrong. This body is temporary. I made it to protect my mind and organs...I've already had to repair it once. I'm sorry to ask this of you, but can you take me back to the Deepsea Metro?"
"Sure."
She took him back and rested his melting body on one of the seats. He held up a CQ-80.
"We're going to have to travel to somewhere I had marked as off-limits before. You can still refuse, and I can always find a way there myself."
"It's fine, Tartar. I'll do this to help you. Where do we go?" She accepted it from him. "Wait, this is an employee model CQ-80, but it's green. Is this yours?"
He nodded weakly. "I'm so sorry to drag you into my issues, Eight. But, if you want, I can tell you what happened before you turned up, since you're concerned."
"Sure, but only if you want to. But we should get going first, because you're falling apart."
"Pull up the map. There should be an option to go to a place known as 'The Backrooms.' Click on it."
"What is that place?"
"The behind-the-scenes of the entire Corporation. That's where the Mem Cakes were created, and where the Sanitization happened. That also is where I kept my lab, mainly. If we want to repair my protective body, we'll have to go back there."
"Why that name?" She selected it, and the train began crawling forwards.
"C. Q. named it. He said it made the most sense. And the name was creepy enough that none of the test sub-I mean...Octolings, would dare go back there. But just in case, I removed the location from all the CQ-80 models except mine. But that meant C. Q. couldn't pay me visits anymore, since the train makes the rails based off the map on the CQ-80, and not actually having rails of its own."
Eight sat next to him. "So, you look like you're made of Sanitization. Is that why we're going back there?"
"Well, almost. The Sanitization is like those Octolings you battled. Mine is...similar, but not exact. Otherwise, it'll be like injecting myself into them. Then we'd have to deal with a hivemind-type situation. Instead, it's made differently. But we'll still have to increase the amount I repair myself with, unless we want to be coming back here often."
The train came to a stop and Eight helped Tartar up and out. She almost stepped in water.
"Uh, Tartar?"
He pulled his head up. "It looks like this place got flooded. It must have been when NILS8 was destroyed. It's likely that the statue crashed into here, since this was almost under it."
"Is it warm?"
Tartar touched it with his right hand and tapped his fingers together. "Yeah, it is. I'm going to have to go alone. Can you wait here for me?"
She nodded and helped him stand straight.
"Thank you, Eight."
"Of course. Good luck, Commander."