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Tearer has Ryuki in his hand. Her partner is powered off, completely at the killer's mercy. Tama's whole world goes silent.
Ryuki's data can't be stored on the cloud. There were too many issues, and more than a chunk of important ABIS data got corrupted as a result of that disastrous attempt. So Tama can't fool herself into thinking he's safe somewhere else, just with a small memory gap. There's no backup versions; his personality core exists in that mechanical little sphere and nowhere else. Her glitchy AI-ball is truly one-of-a-kind. If Tearer closes his fist, he'll be committing murder: Ryuki will cease to exist.
Tama should've known better. She wanted to impress Aiba, and she thought a tip from Mama was as good as gold. She should've looked closer, verified it all - mounting pressure from Boss and the higher-ups be damned.
Tearer swirls the motionless red eye in his palm. "If you don't want this thing destroyed, do exactly as I say."
Maybe if his request wasn't so small, Tama would've outright refused. It's not uncommon for manipulators to start with trivial demands to acclimate their victims. Tama would know - she learned all about that in a uni psych and ethics class one spring. But as it was, Tearer only wanted to lure principal investigators to the very lair she found him in. That was an action she could very easily rationalize to herself.
(In her heart, Tama knows she could rationalize almost anything. That it didn't matter what Tearer asked her to do. If Ryuki was on the line, she'd do it, over and over again.)
She nods. Her mouth can't cooperate, and her heartbeat nearly drowns out the serial killer's detailed instructions. As a defender of the peace, she shouldn't be even entertaining this scheme. But morals don't often line up with reality.
After what feels like a century, Tearer returns Ryuki. Huge mistake, Tama thinks to herself. With the familiar weight in her hand, she knows she can, and will, make Tearer pay.
"Breathe a word of what happened here to anyone," Tearer warns, "and I'll detonate the bomb in your eye."
Tama almost wants to laugh. Pewter had removed that feature from Ryuki way back when he had first learned about the unfixable glitches. Other AI-ball partners with their stable cloud connections and instantly uploaded data could remotely detonate if given the right code from the right person: nothing but the mechanical body would be lost, after all. But Ryuki was deemed too unstable for that feature to remain, and since he couldn't connect to ABIS files nine out of ten times anyways, it's not like he was considered a security risk without such protective measures. Tearer must've found the remnants of that feature.
Would the killer be able to look through Ryuki's perspective? Is that how he'd know if Tama ratted him out? And how close would he need to be to trigger the self-destruct feature? Was it all a bluff? How did Tearer learn about AI-balls in the first place? How well-connected was this man? How deep did this all go?
Tama leaves the lair with too many questions and no answers. She waits until she's back at her motorcycle to restart her AI-ball. As Ryuki slowly comes online, she sticks him back into her empty eye socket and speeds off onto the highway. She wants as much distance between her and that monster as she can manage.
"Tama…?"
The psyncer bites her lip to prevent from crying out. He's okay, he's really okay.
Tama wills herself to exude casual playfulness. "Hey, buddy: have a good nap?"
Silence. Her partner's probably reviewing his data against the current time and running his own series of diagnostics to figure out what happened. Sure enough, his first question is, "I was offline for nearly five hours?"
"Yeah. Want me to fill you in?"
All Tama can hear is the wind whipping around her. For a terrible moment, she wonders if Tearer heard that thought, if he considered it as disobedience and deleted Ryuki on the spot.
But then her partner's voice pipes up. "We're not too far from the park - you could pull over there."
"Or I could just tell you now and cover more ground."
"Distracted driving is the leading cause of vehicle accidents, Tama."
Fondly rolling her eyes, she listens to her AI-ball's suggestion. Ryuki likes the park, and she's not in the mood to deny him anything he wants right now. Once they get there, she finds a bench not too far from the lake that's still in the shade of the trees. She leans against the tree bark and starts to stretch.
Ryuki projects his human form onto the bench. He's hugging his left knee to his chest and leaving his other leg dangling straight out, occasionally kicking it in and out. It really is amazing how many details are crammed into his body language: the slight upturn of his lip, the subtle drifting of his red eyes to the tree leaves above, the twitching of his fingertips.
"So, what happened?"
Tama sometimes hates how young Ryuki's form looks. Date, according to Aiba, looks like a man in his forties. It'd be easier to lie to someone like that, someone who doesn't seem so naive and ready to believe you.
"Dunno," Tama says, and she wishes she could leave it at that. "I have no idea what triggered you to freeze up this time, but you weren't responding at all. You locked up in my eye for a bit there, too, so it's not like I could've done a manual restart."
"Oh." Ryuki hugs his knee closer to his chest. "Sorry, Tama."
And god, that's the rub of it. It's so easy to lie to Ryuki. He trusts her too much. She wishes he didn't. She wishes he'd question her more instead of apologize. But no, why would he do that? Tama's explanation, bare bones and vague, is satisfactory by virtue of being given by Tama, so he doesn't doubt her for a second. It's going to make her vomit.
"You didn't miss anything, " she hurriedly fills in. "That meeting was a total bust, so I've been running around town looking for clues since."
"Oh," Ryuki repeats, somehow sadder and quieter than before. "I'm sorry, Tama: I know you were excited by that tip-off."
Tama's going to faint. She's going to laugh hysterically and cry and give everything away because she can't have one stupid conversation, can't be trusted to follow up on one stupid meeting, can't react fast enough to not lose her goddamn partner to a serial killer, stupid microwave-death trap be damned -
"Tama, did you eat anything in that time?"
"No." She was too busy playing cat-and-mouse with the cops and dancing to a psychotic man's tune to take a break.
Ryuki frowns. "Tama," Ryuki whines, "humans have to eat."
Despite it all, she can't help but crack a smile at the phrasing. "My bad, buddy. I'll pick up food right now, okay?"
"Okay," Ryuki says, swinging off the bench and to his feet. "I'll forgive you then."
...
Tama planted the fake lead and told her superiors about it. And as predicted, she and Aiba were assigned the follow-up. Just like Tearer told her it would happen. She wonders briefly if he has any allies in high places, and the theory seems likely, all things considered.
What Tearer didn't mention was the hostages, so it was only fair to bring more friends along. Not police, just allies that she and her mentor couldn't turn away even if they wanted to. He had taken civilians without a word, so why couldn't Tama do the same? He wouldn't kill her, kill Ryuki, over something so small. At least, Tama had hoped as much.
And then, as they’re busy figuring out how to remove the bombs strapped to the handful of high schoolers, Tama spotted the serial killer himself. Her gun was out in an instant, but Tearer only held up a small controller in response - a deadman's switch. With nothing to do but buy time for Aiba to come up with a real plan, she asked stupid questions and got ridiculous answers. She listened to Tearer explain how annoying ABIS was, how much their principal investigator had unrightfully interfered, how easy it would be for him to kill the kids he kidnapped and everyone in the cavern but…
“This world is a game. And I just wanted to play with you.”
He’s insane. If all his talk about “freeing humanity” wasn’t a giveaway, this certainly was. Tama was close to losing her mind at those words. All this? All the death, grief, suffering - all of it was a game laid out by some apathetic asshole?
“It’s a shit game!” she screams.
“Let’s do something new then,” he says, modulated voice even. “The gun you’re using - use it to kill Aiba, and I’ll let the others go. Decline, and it’s over. You’ll all be blasted into pieces. So what’s it gonna be?”
Her trigger hand shakes. “Fuck you.”
If he blinks behind the iron mask, there’s no way to know. “I’m going to count down from 10. Good luck.” The bastard straightens his posture. “Let’s begin.”
“Ten… Nine…”
It’s the goddamn trolley problem. Again? How many times does Tama have to stand at the station with her hand on the switch before she’s done? Wasn’t it enough to sabotage the investigation, shoot (stun bullets) at members of her own department so this freak could have a clean getaway, and lead everyone here? She broke her principles once already - can she really justify doing it all over again?
“Eight… Seven…”
There’s no guarantee that he’ll even hold up the deal. No, that’s not true. He gave back Ryuki. The rules of his game are nonsensical, but Tearer’s proven he’ll obey them.
As if moved by someone else, Tama turns her gun to her superior.
There’s protest from her allies, loud and soaked in disbelief. But it’s not loud enough to drown out the countdown.
“Six… Five…”
Never one to back down, Aiba meets her gaze. “Shoot.”
Tama’s voice is a choked whisper. “..what?”
Aiba takes a step forward and gestures with open arms. “Just do it! Shoot, Tama!” It does not escape Tama’s notice that all Aiba’s movements make her a bigger target. Easier to hit.
The psyncer who liked to pretend she was above it all, but cared more than anyone else. The detective who pulled all-nighters when no one was looking because she had to make sure all the victims and their families were doing okay. The woman who trained her, who believed in her capabilities when no one else did. Her mentor, her study buddy, her best friend.
Tama holds her evolver with both hands, and she does not look away.
“Four… Three…”
“You’re not actually gonna shoot her, right? ” Ryuki’s voice is as small as she feels.
Even in her head, she can’t bring herself to respond.
“Tama?”
“Two… One…”
"Damn it!" Tama screams.
She lowers her gun and turns to Tearer. She takes a deep breath. “I won’t take a human life.”
Tearer stares at her. "Is that so?" He says, teetering on amusement. "But your refusal to kill will lead to the murder of many more."
"I won't kill a person. But you, Tearer? You're a monster."
She shoots Tearer. And with an AI supercomputer working with her, the bullet easily lodges in his chest. But Tearer lets go of the switch and-
Explosions. Thunderous and violent all around them. The pillars crack and fall, the floor breaks up, and people are thrown like ragdolls.
No one is unharmed, but the civilians will be okay. She points them to the exit, directs the allies she came in with to step up and take point. There isn't time for her to do more. The building is collapsing and their headcount is one short.
Aiba. She needs to find Aiba. But all she can see is fire, rubble, and more fucking rubble.
Without being told, Ryuki activates X-ray mode. There isn't a single flaw in his render. Tama spins around like an idiot, trying to spot the one person she had been trying desperately to save.
There! Tama hurries to a bad bit of debris and pushes with all her might. Underneath lies Aiba. Strong, invincible Aiba - bleeding. There's an interlocking piece of rock that pins her right leg. Tama wants to scream.
"Hello, Tama. You need to go." Even now, Aiba's voice is calm.
"Not without you," Tama insists. "I gotta get that off you-"
"Your physical prowess is remarkable, but you're not strong enough." Was there a hint of a joke somewhere there? Tama can't think straight enough to process.
"Go," Aiba orders. "The ceilings' coming down. You don't have to die here."
It really is fucking ethical dilemma after dilemma, and Tama is sick of it. She's going to kill every asshole responsible for all these thought experiments. They were heartless bastards, the entire lot.
"I can't leave you!"
Tama means it: she's not leaving without her mentor. She reaches for the rock. She has to at least try. She'll go mad if she doesn't.
Aiba grabs Tama's hand. She pushes something metallic and broken inside it. "I know."
She smiles. Her mentor is asking her to leave her to die, and she's smiling as she does it. "I'm right behind you, Tama."
"Liar-."
Aiba pushes Tama, hard. The rookie stumbles backwards, nearly falling down what little remains of a staircase. She rights herself and-
And the cavern shakes. More rocks tumble, and Aiba isn't visible anymore. No, she's buried under a metric ton of debris.
"Aiba?! AIBA!! "
Fires rage. The ground cracks. And all Tama can do is sob hysterically.
"She was my everything. And I, I betrayed her."
...
Tama takes a deep breath after she explains it all. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Ryuki. I was too scared to lose you, but now that Tearer's dead, he can't trigger that explosive in your machinery anymore, so I thought..." She looks down at her hands.
"You deserved to know, just how horrible your partner is."
Ryuki is silent. Tama doesn't dare sneak a glance at the coffee table for fear of what expression her little porcupine is wearing - even if it's not his avatar form, she knows him too well to not read his feelings like an open book. And if she looks now, there'll be no turning back, so she doesn't look. Still, it's unnerving for him to be this quiet. Not unexpected, not undeserved, but disheartening all the same. She thought telling him at home, in a familiar environment, would make it easier, but it didn't make it easy.
"I'm turning myself in tomorrow," Tama states. But even now, she can't stomach the idea Ryuki thinks she's running away, so she adds, "I tried to tell Boss earlier, but she wouldn't listen. With… Aiba's… happening today, she wouldn't let me say anything. But tomorrow, I'll make her listen."
As the silence drags on, she hurriedly looks toward the table. Ryuki's face is impassive. For a brief moment, Tama worries that Ryuki is glitching out, and she'll have to do this all over again. She doesn't think she could stomach that.
"Ryuki, are you listening?" She can feel tears begin to prick, so she fixes her gaze firmly on the floor. She blinks a few times to clear her vision. "Say something, please."
"Tama…" His voice is so quiet. Sad maybe, with a tinge of fear.
"Tama, look at me please."
His voice is closer and Tama can feel his jelly-ish form on her bare arm. She takes a deep breath and turns to look.
"You're not telling Boss anything." His gaze is calm and clear, and voice is strong. She's only ever heard him this confident in Somnium, and that realization only leaves Tama more confused.
"Ryuki, I have to. She's going to learn one way or another -"
"There's no data from that night. Date was destroyed by the rubble, so he couldn't have caught anything on footage, much less have uploaded it to the cloud."
"But you did," Tama points out. “So when we go to Pewter’s lab for your manual upload this Friday, he’ll see all the data and tell Boss.”
"It's not there. I glitched."
Ryuki says it so assertively, she almost believes him. But she knows for a fact he didn't. He didn't freeze up once that night or the day before. She's too familiar with his system to have missed something that important.
"No, you didn't," Tama corrects him.
"I did," he insists.
She doesn’t understand, but if her years as a psychiatrist taught her anything, it’s the importance of concurrent angles. “Well, I’ve told you now, so they’ll see this explanation.”
“No, they won’t. This footage is corrupted.” Tama opens her mouth to question him, but Ryuki's voice grows faster and higher and louder as he speaks. "I glitched. I always glitch and break all the time, so no one can say anything!"
Ryuki is frowning and his eye is watering - it's the closest he can get to crying.
"Ryuki…"
"I glitched! I glitched!" Ryuki stomps his foot with all his might - it barely makes an impact on Tama's skin. He places his head in his stubby hands and shakes it emphatically, as if he's physically batting away her rebuttals. "I glitched… And, and you like me anyways, so you have to let me help you, Tama!"
Instinctively, Tama offers a hand to her partner, hoping to offer some comfort. He flings himself into her palm and curls himself around her inner three fingers, holding them close.
"It'll be okay, Ryuki," she soothes. "You've done plenty to help me, I promise. And even if I'm not at ABIS, I'll make sure you aren't deleted. Maybe they can find you someone else to work with-"
"I don't want someone else!" Ryuki cries. "I'm Tama's partner. Only Tama's! I don't care if they delete me: I will protect you no matter what!"
She doesn't know what to say. She wasn't expecting him to declare that. Sure, she knew Ryuki trusted her and considered her a friend, but for him to be so insistent that they were partners no matter what? After she teases him relentlessly, makes fun of his interests, and never is as studious as he nags her to be? That he'd declare he'd rather not exist than be separated… It comes as a major shock.
Ryuki pushes himself closer against her hand until his form loses shape. His ooze slips through and around her fingers, like he's trying to hug her as tight as he can.
His voice is a tiny murmur, wracked by sadness with no outlet. "Don't go, Tama. Please don't go."
Tama carefully cradles Ryuki to her chest and realizes she's crying. She can't do this. Maybe she never could, and she was only fooling herself with all this talk about giving herself up tomorrow. ABIS is her home: it's the one place where she can even begin to atone for the sin she's committed. She can't go. She can't leave.
Tama threw away her morals once already. With her partner clinging to her, promising that he will always have her back, how can she not do it again?