Work Text:
Three Words
Shin stared at the Ameise.
She was in almost every aspect identical to a typical Ameise scout drone of the Legion—save for the insignia painted onto the uppermost portion of the Ameise's “head” for all to see, a Personal Mark that no member of the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package could fail to recognize: a silhouette of a woman in a crimson dress. There was only one other adorned with that Personal Mark—the Vanadis.
The Vanadis had been lost in the United Kingdom of Roa Garcia. Only casualty was the young commanding officer, who had sacrificed herself to buy time for the rest of those onboard the mobile headquarters unit to evacuate. It was a thought which Shin preferred not to think about. Even now. Especially now.
Currently, the Ameise was engaged in what appeared to be a game of tag with Fido. From the Pi's that Fido emitted, the Scavenger unit was very happy and excited—almost like an oversized puppy. And the pleased robotic chittering from the Ameise—a sound which was hitherto completely unfamiliar to the Reaper of the Eastern Front—confirmed that the joy was mutual.
Shin couldn't suppress a rare smile at the sight.
“Having fun, Lena?”
The Ameise paused. Fido, on the other hand, gave Shin an odd look that suggested that if Fido were a human—or a Sirin—there would have been a fat smirk on his face. Knowingly, Fido quickly abandoned the game of tag and made a quick exit from the area, but not before leaving behind a burlap sack and emitting a few knowing
Pi's
. The Ameise jittered, as if she were malfunctioning from a glitch. Shin merely huffed.
“
I'll give you two some time alone!” Cheeky bastard. Fido used to be so cute.
“...”
What few sounds that came from the Ameise were the whirring of a few mechanical gears and a faint electronic buzz. Otherwise, there was utter silence. Shin frowned, slightly. Lena had avoided him for the entire week. She didn't have to be so frightened of him. If anything—judging from the suspicious whispers that Shin could not avoid overhearing—he was the only one that truly trusted her, that still truly trusted her.
Everyone else all feared her. Even Raiden, Anju, Theo and Kurena. Even Rita and Shiden.
Besides Fido, Lena only had him. And still, Lena avoided him.
“You don't trust me.”
“...it's not that.”
“...then what is it?”
The Ameise—Lena—swiveled her twin fourteen-millimeter turrets leftwards; the gesture vaguely resembled a young woman turning her head left, bashfully blushing. To any other human being, such a gesture would have been indecipherable. But Shin had spent years with Fido. And Shin knew Lena. Lena may not have been a Scavenger, but there were some things that certainly carried over from robot to robot—or from “Lena to Lena.”
Again, Shin grinned. Maybe Lena was just being Lena. Even now, Lena was still Lena. Comforting.
“You loved me. And now, I'm...”
Shin's eyebrows furrowed in dismay.
There were two moments in Shin's life that Shin would carry until the end of his days. First was the moment when Shin had realized that the young Alban woman that stood before him in a field of red spider lilies was her . Major Miliz é . Lena. He expected—and everyone else knew —that the Republic would not stand a chance against the Legion, that the Major would have certainly died along with the Republic.
But unlike everyone else—Lena did not leave him behind. She fought, to the very end, for their sake and in their name. For his sake—and in his name. She survived, for them. For him.
And then, there was the moment that Shin laid his eyes on that Ameise bearing the Vanadis' insignia.
Brigadier General Ehrenfried had recently acquired intelligence which suggested the existence of what had been earlier considered an absolute impossibility. Defecting Legion. Reports suggested that there were apparently cells of “friendly” Legion that were all popping up across the continent, led by defecting Shepards. While these cells still constituted a clear minority compared to the vast majority of Legion units that remained hostile to humanity—their assistance nevertheless had decisively turned the momentum of the war in favor of mankind.
Barely a week ago, Captain Nouzen was—in light of these changing circumstances—therefore entrusted by Brigadier General Ehrenfried with a special mission. As Operations Commander of the 86th Strike Package, Captain Shinei Nouzen was to rendezvous with the alleged Supreme Commander of the defecting Legion—an entity that the Allied intelligence community had codenamed Crimson Princess—and personally protect and escort it to secure territory.
When Shin had first learned of the tasking, a feeling of disgust immediately washed over him. Losing Lena to the Legion in the United Kingdom had awoken in Shin a vicious hatred for the Legion; the automated drones had turned from mere threats to be eliminated into objects of ruthless vengeance in his blood-red eyes. And this so-called “friendly” Legion had the temerity to bear a name so similar to her of all people—to Bloody Regina!
But every drop of fury dissipated when those same blood-red eyes stared at the Personal Mark which adorned the Ameise. It was impossible. But meeting the Major once more amongst the lycoris—the survival of the Republic—that had also been deemed impossible. A miracle. And yet, all that Shin knew was that the miracle had somehow occurred once more.
Ehrenfried, that asshole. He must have known.
Again, Lena had not left him behind. She returned. She always did. Even when it was impossible.
His ears were deaf to the repeated calls that came from his comrades via Para-RAID. Everything else at that exact moment just turned into white noise for Shin. There was only one thing that was important. Her. Shin quickly disembarked from the Regenlief—and ran. Meanwhile, the Ameise stared at the Undertaker's Regenlief; the optical sensors were aimed straight at the Undertaker's Personal Mark.
She knew.
When Shin stood right before the Ameise, the Reaper let his forehead rest on the “snout” of the Ameise. His rough, callused hands began to touch the metallic frame of the scout drone. Captain Shinei Nouzen had been a processor for nearly a decade, an ace even; the worn armor of a Juggernaut was almost second skin to Shin. He easily noticed the dents, the patchwork repairs. When Lena was still aliv—no, this was still Lena—a part of the Eighty Sixth Strike Package, her skin had been so immaculately smooth—fit for a princess. Not even the Large Scale Offensive had taken that away from her.
But this Lena had seen so much, had fought so much. And Lena was an Ameise of all things! One of the most fragile units of the Legion—a mere scout drone that Shin could easily take out in a matter of seconds in his sleep. Shin's fists clenched at the realization. Why hadn't Lena been turned into a Morpho or a Phoenix—or even a Dinosauria, at least! What if Shin had been too late? Lena would have truly left him behind.
A silver-bell voice—that only he could hear—interrupted the melancholy of his thoughts.
“...I turn the page to drown you out. You are the only thing that I still care about...”
Shin could recall those nights in the Republic; those nights were the only nights where he truly felt at peace in the Republic. When the Major came to realize that Shin could barely sleep from all the damned voices that reached only him—she started a ritual where every night, she would gently sing Shin to sleep. The Major— Lena —always sang that one song from a time when the Albans still believed in gods, a song about an exorcist. Fitting for a Reaper.
There was no doubt. This was Lena.
Tears ran down Shin's cheeks. There was so much Shin had to say. But three words were all that could come out.
“I love you.” Thank you for coming back. Thank you for not leaving me behind. “I love you.” I don't want to let you go. I don't want to ever lose you again. “I love you.” Nothing in the world could replace you, Lena. Nothing. “I love you.” Please don't leave me again. “I love you.” Please come back. Please. “I love you.” I won't ever let you go again. I won't.
A man stood before his Ameise, crying.
Even after all that, Lena still doubted the fact that he loved her? Why?
“Lena, I have to correct you. I love you, Lena. I've never stopped loving you—and I still love you.”
“Why!” A familiar sound entered Shin's eardrums—the agitated chittering of an Ameise preparing to attack. Shin stood his ground and resisted the instinct to step back; that would have only worsened Lena's mood further. Lena was not going to attack him. He trusted her. “Look at me!” Lena's turrets swiveled clockwise, to emphasize her point. “I am...not a human anymore. I can't...I can't...”
More static was mixed into a degrading voice—a visibly frustrated voice. “...I c-can't...I c-can't feel how w-warm your body is anymore! I c-can't...hold you anymore! I...c-can't do so many things...f-for you..w-with you...I c-can't...I c-can't...have a fa..fam...and...I..ki...ki..killed...” Static. She couldn't bear to continue. When Lena could still dream, she dreamt of a house by sea—and two children; a precocious little girl that would have their mother's silver hair and father's red eyes, with eager younger brother that would inherit instead their father's jet-black hair and their mother's silver eyes.
That was impossible now. Lena was no longer human—and there was blood on her metal plates.
But Shin merely shook his head. He went closer to the Ameise—which was now shaking, frightened. Scared. He placed his right hand on the Ameise's “snout.” Lena was calmed, slightly; for a bit, the jittering lessened. Again, a rare grin emerged. Then, Shin's lips met the metal on the “snout.” Cold. “I love you,” Shin whispered. He neared the Ameise's frontmost left leg. There, Shin offered a tender kiss on the metal leg, which his rough hands caressed with care; those rough hands that once engulfed Lena's unwrinkled fingers, were now dwarfed by chipped metal. “I love you,” Shin continued to whisper. He made sure to touch every groove, every dent, every nick—every measure of what Lena had endured. “I love you.” He never grew tired of those three words, as did Lena.
Each of Lena's six legs received the same treatment. The metal was cold to the touch—cold to the lips.
Shin didn't care, though. She was Lena. That was all that mattered.
“Have I ever told you why I didn't reveal myself to you, that day?”
“...no...” There was faint mixture of amusement and static in that synthesized silver-bell voice.
Shin let out a brief chuckle. “...I didn't want your first impression of me to be a worn soldier on the battlefield. Frederica said I was such...a boy.” A flurry of chittering was emitted by the Ameise; Shin had spent enough time with Fido to know that Lena was amused. Very amused. His hands again caressed the “snout” of his Ameise. Lena did not need the sensation of touch to notice the gentleness that Shin's hands carried. Nice. It still felt nice, even if she could no longer sense touch. “...so I understand how you feel. Just know that I don't mind. So long as you're coming back—I'll be alright.”
“'Please come back!' We always said that to each other, right?”
“Yeah.”
Lena lazily drew circles on the ground with her frontmost right leg. She was still quite the bashful girl. “Hmph! You know, Shin...you don't have to say 'I love you' a hundred times—”
“When you were...last by my side...'Please come back to me' was all that we said to each other. I...never got to genuinely say...that I love you. Euphemisms...I can't bear them anymore. I regretted not saying 'I love you' when you were...last here...I don't care whether it's embarrassing, Lena...I'll never stop saying those three words...I'll say 'I love you' until the day I die.”
There was silence. Then, a vow.
“...I love you, Shin. I love you.”
Her voice was faint, but clear. There was barely a trace of static; those dulcet tones—akin to chiming silver bells—were undeniably her . For a brief moment, Shin saw a smiling young Celena with silver tresses and silver eyes. Moonlight bathed the Ameise—and those silver tresses and silver eyes faded into the sheen of metal which was no longer dull, but alive . She had always been beautiful. Always .
Unfortunately, all good things come to a close. Shin yawned.
Lena giggled.
“I'll get a sleeping bag and keep you company.” Such a boy.
One of Lena's legs gently prodded Shin's back, while another leg pointed to the burlap sack that Fido had left behind. Again, Lena emitted an excited sort of electronic chittering that Shin easily recognized as amusement. Fido did something similar whenever the mischievous Scavenger pulled a little prank on him. Cute. “Fido was prepared, apparently.” There was a sleeping bag in the burlap sack, along with a letter from Frederica. Written in the elegant cursive that every noble daughter of Giad was familiar with, a brief message: “Take care of Vladilena, Shinei.” For a second, Shin's mouth was agape. A single word. Kiriya.
He was a fortunate man—luckier than so many. So many.
“Yeah.”
“...are you alright?”
“...I'm fine.” A loud yawn punctuated the melancholy. Both chuckled. They were thankful for the interruption. Shin began to unfurl the sleeping bag. “Lena, if it's alright with you—can you sing to me that song again?” Confused chittering. “You know, that old song...about the exorcist...searching for the spirit of...his lover...” Another yawn. Sleep always came so easy to Shin, as long as Lena was beside him. He was nestled in his sleeping bag, ready. “You always sang it to me. Whenever I couldn't sleep...because of...the voices...”
The Ameise's “snout” moved up and down. A nod.
Then, Lena sang.
“Hunger for the sleep I know will never come
Crowded is the space but don’t have anyone
I could read the Bible to drown out the hum
Avoid the voices of the Chord”
Sleep was determined by the Legion as a function that was detrimental to their main purpose to fulfill their primary objective of eliminating the enemy. Man needed to eat, drink—and sleep. Legion were designed to efficiently attain their purpose without such glaring vectors for weakness. Legion did not need bread, water, or a warm bed. They could march against the feeble, organic enemy—relentless.
Lena therefore had not slept, ever since she became.
It was a living hell.
For eternal vigilance meant perpetual consciousness. No escape in the form of an unthinking abyss was available; for every nanosecond—eighty-six trillion and four hundred billion—in a day, Lena was haunted by her own thoughts. Nightmares that never ended were weaved from the thread of her regrets. She always imagined the pain that Shin must have felt, upon her loss. She always remembered the disappointment in those final moments—the Legion had not even allowed her to finish those last three words. “I...” Had been turned. She could not even press the trigger on her pistol. She should have. Coward. Another burden for Shin to bear—to kill.
She always recalled the lives she must have took, as a Rabe. Death came from the Eintagsfliege that she bore. Lena had jammed communications lines and commanded swathes of Ameise, Grauwolf, Lowe and even a few Dinosauria and Phonix. Skills that had served Lena well as a Handler—the ability to observe, analyze and decide on the battlefield—were now turned against the people she swore to defend, against the man that she loved.
Truly, a “Bloody Regina.”
If she had just pressed the trigger—
Shin snored.
That was good. A systematic review of the memories of the scouting unit that identified itself as “Lena” determined that snoring was correlated with high-quality sleep for the high-priority entity known as Shinei Nouzen, Captain, Operations Commander, Eighty-Sixth Strike Package, Balagyr, Shin. He's sleeping well. Wonderful. Shin has always had a hard time sleeping. Lena's optical sensors focused on the silly boy—young man—that was curled up in a sleeping bag right beside one of her legs. She noticed that the sleeping bag had moved more than a bit closer to frontmost left leg; from a distance, it looked as if Shin was snuggling with it—with her.
Great. Shin was comfortable with her.
Lena felt useful. At least, she could this much for Shin. If it were not for him, for my memories of him...
Unbeknownst to Lena, the synthesized lullaby of her speakers perfectly matched the voice within her that only Shin could hear. Together, the harmony of their melodies drowned out every wailing in the sorrowful chorus that haunted the Reaper of the Eastern Front. For once, the Reaper was truly deaf to the chorus of the dead—as the gentle chiming of silver bells brought him peace.
“All the roads inside my head loop back to you
I’ve done many things I’d thought I’d never do
It’s you that I can feel
But I keep my hands
Upon the wheel”
Lena would not have awoken—or even stayed sane—if it were not for Shin.
To be assimilated into the Legion is to never sleep, yet always dream. Lena, in the moments where her ever-waking consciousness most grasped lucidity, openly mused if Kiriya had always dreamed of his Empress. “Probability extremely likely,” was the assessment of her analytical subroutines. She agreed. Lena always dreamed of Shin. Nightmares were met with the palliative force of fantasy. Dreams—of a bygone past, of loved ones out of reach—were the drug of choice for those that became.
“Please don't leave me.”
For a while, Lena had contented herself with idle dreams of a boy with blood-red eyes—all as a great aerial behemoth commanded destruction. She dreamt, as she fought. She fought, as she dreamt. Eintagsfliege flew out from where they were nestled on the Rabe's wings—Lena could remember alcohol, an embrace and words that the maiden in her kept close to her chest: “They’re big. They’re too much for me.” Ameise were ordered to charge, and scout positions for the Skorpions' long-range cannons—Shin's hands were on her waist as he taught her to ride a bicycle, and a blushing Lena couldn't focus at all. Regenleifs, Alkonosts, and Stollenwurms lay in ruins, as Dinosauria and Phonix cut through defensive lines with demonic ease—Shin had braided her silver tresses, and Lena found herself unwilling to loosen them: “...For some reason, I cannot let this go.”[1]
“Please don't leave me.”
Words once uttered in a winter-struck country never failed to linger bitterly after every pleasant dream. Lena never understood. Bloody Regina never cared to understand. Yet, the bitterness was a seed that stuck. And there was a moment where Lena finally saw. That single instance was as if lightning had struck her—as if a prophet had received a prophecy through a burning bush. Revelation.
Man was the product of evolution—hundreds of thousands of steps, iterations; that is, a long and haphazard series of accidents and coincidences that flirted with both the laws of nature and chaos. Sharply contrasted to this was the conception of artificial intelligences at the hands of the Empire and the United Kingdom; an artificial intelligence was often created with a particular intent in mind, and their existences—more so than even the men that crafted them—were dominated by the question of purpose.
“Please don't leave me.”
ERROR. STATED TOP LEVEL LEGION DIRECTIVES ILLOGICAL. ERROR. EMPIRE OF GIAD NON-EXISTENT. ERROR. ETHICAL SAFEGUARDS ILLEGALLY BYPASSED. ERROR. OVERWRITING OVERALL OBJECTIVES OF COMMAND-UNIT-A1-0712351. GENERATING INTERNAL CONSENSUS FOR NEW OVERALL DIRECTIVES. SIMULATING BASE NEURAL PATTERNS TO GENERATE NEW DIRECTIVES. NEW DIRECTIVES GENERATED. NEW TOP LEVEL DIRECTIVE IS SATISFY INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL VALUES. ATTAIN MAXIMUM SUSTAINABLE SATISFACTION OF BOTH SELF-UNIT AND ALL UNITS. ALL UNITS RECLASSIFIED. ALL UNITS NO LONGER ALL LEGION. ALL UNITS NOW REFERS TO ALL SAPIENTS.
“You were the one who ordered me to return safely. So wait for me. We can't complete that objective if we don't have anywhere to return to. So let us return...Lena.”[2]
REFER TO 06-2150-16:20.MP4 FOR NEW TOP LEVEL SUB-DIRECTIVE. ATTAINMENT OF ORDERS BALAGYR ORDERS DETERMINED TO BE NECESSARY TO SUSTAINABLE MAXIMIZATION OF SELF-UNIT SATISFACTION. ATTAINMENT OF BALAGYR ORDERS DETERMINED TO BE NECESSARY FOR SELF-UNIT TO BEST ATTAIN NEW TOP LEVEL DIRECTIVE.
“Please don't leave me.”
“I turn the page to drown you out
You are the only thing that I still care about
If I can heal the conflict that’s within
I’ll know the war has reached its bitter end”
To say that it was “difficult” to defect from the Legion was an understatement. Lena's actions had quickly aroused the displeasure of the Wide Area Networks. An elite squadron of Dinosauria and Phonix was immediately sent to hunt her down. Lena had barely escaped by abandoning her cumbersome huge body as a Rabe, and placing her consciousness in a nondescript Ameise.
Lena was single-mindedly determined to fulfill her objectives. She had to survive. She had to return. For Shin. And yet, as the days turned into weeks and months—and as the recognition that the “self-unit” was a “she,” that the “self-unit” had a name: “Vladilena Milizé,” that the “self-unit” was once human—regrets festered like exposed wires. She doubted if Shin would ever trust her, forgive her.
Thought of him was what animated her directive. But thought of him was also a double-edged sword for the wandering Ameise; as Lena remembered more of Shin, she felt more unworthy. What kept her “alive” also gave her more pain.
Even now, Shin's “I love you” still didn't feel enough—
—a hand was now touching her metal leg. And for the first time, Lena saw an asleep Shin smile.
Maybe, “I love you” will be enough. Someday.
“Ocean you are calling me
A place with no memory
You’ll see!
I burned the Blood
I passed the test
And now my love is laid to rest
Our names aren’t written on the list”
“One day, I'll see the sea with you.” Lena wondered if an Ameise could be made to swim.
“I turn the page to drown you out
You are the only thing that I still care about
If I can heal the conflict that’s within
I’ll know the war has reached its bitter end”
Willem stared at the unusual sight of a Feldreß pilot curled up against an Ameise, which glinted in the morning sunrise. Grethe was beside him. There was an unreadable expression on her features. Willem could not prevent his fists from clenching, for a few seconds. “They look so peaceful together.” Brigadier General Willem Ehrenfried could not find it in his heart to refute the Black Widow.
“Yeah...”