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Sometimes, Pixal cannot believe that this is who she’s calling her best friend.
Don’t get her wrong, she owes so much to Zane, and in general there’s no one else she’d rather have at her side. However…times like these make her wonder what in the world endeared herself to him.
Their friends are trapped inside Prime Empire, which means it’s up to her and Zane to find Milton Dyer and put a stop to his Unagami persona. Time is of the essence, and yet he’s acting like…like…
Actually, she doesn’t know what to call this.
Pixal can only presume that Zane is acting like the investigators in the books and movies he researched. The way he’s dressed, the way he speaks, it is all very silly.
Perhaps Pixal would be more annoyed if she didn’t see right through the act. She knows that what Zane needs right now is a distraction, because she knows Zane. She’s been in his head. And because she is his best friend, and the only other Nindroid on the team, she knows that the fact that he and herself cannot enter the game is weighing on him. That it is making his difference from the rest of his team stand out sharply.
So, he needs a distraction.
And while she doesn’t see how overly descriptive monologues are going to get them any closer to figuring out where Milton Dyer is, she won’t truly tell Zane to knock it off. Maybe she’ll get in some quips of her own, but he knows as well as she does that they aren’t serious.
She leaves it alone.
And perhaps later she even indulges it. Zane has been taken by the Mechanic, and, well, she needs a distraction too.
--
The battle is over. They won.
They watch Unagami and Dyer walk away. It is jubilant.
Pixal turns to her side with a smile, anticipating a celebratory hug from her friend, but the smile is quickly abandoned. Although he was there but a few moments ago, Zane is nowhere near her side. All she can see is his back as he walks away. Something about the way he holds himself as he walks gives Pixal further pause. The language of bodies does not come so fluently to her as it does for others, but even she can tell that his posture and downturned head do not bring to mind one who is happy or even relieved.
And all of that is without saying the most glaring sign of worry: Zane is walking away.
The sounds of the others’ relief grows louder as they begin to discuss heading home, but Pixal cannot take her eyes off of Zane’s retreating figure. She has not seen Zane behave this way before, after a set of events such as these. She does not know what to make of it, and it bothers her.
Suddenly, Pixal is starting to think that there might be something more going on here than what she had initially believed. Certainly, she is aware that Zane has isolated himself before, but it is not very common, and never when he feels singled out for his robotic origin. On those occasions, he does the exact opposite, seeking out the company of the others to feel, as he put it once, more connected.
Now, it is as if he doesn’t want to be around anyone at all.
But why?
She considers what could possibly be troubling him, but she draws a blank. Nothing that happened today was anything that Zane has not experienced before. Which only really leaves one option, one that she really does not like: whatever is on his mind is nothing new. Which means that as his best friend, she has failed.
How could Pixal have made such an egregious error?
How long has her best friend been hurting, and she has not seen it?
No more, Pixal thinks, making a decision right then and there.
As she makes to jog after him, a warm hand lightly grabs her arm. She turns back to see Cole looking at her with what she can easily tell is concern.
There is simply no time to waste, she must catch up with Zane and fix things now. “Cole, I—"
“You’re going after Zane, right?” Cole’s eyes shift to her right, undoubtedly toward the retreating Nindroid. In return, Pixal looks to Cole’s right, where behind him Nya, Jay, Lloyd, Kai, and Master Wu all seem to be none the wiser to Cole and Pixal’s collective concern, still taking amongst themselves.
With slight hesitation, Pixal says, “Yes.”
“We’re about to head back to the Monastery.”
The non-sequitur makes Pixal’s response just a few milliseconds late, “What?”
“We’re” Cole tilts his head back to the others, “about to head back.” He tilts his head in Zane’s direction. His looks at Pixal again with searching eyes, clearly asking if she takes his meaning. Don’t have this conversation here. Don’t worry the others. She understands. She understands something else too.
“You know what is troubling him.”
“Yes.”
“Will you not tell me what it is?”
“No,” Cole shakes his head, “I think it would be better if…I think this is a conversation you two need to have on your own.”
Pixal wants to know what Cole means by that, but she cannot ask if she wants to catch up to Zane before he completely disappears into the crowd. So, she simply nods and Cole lets go of her wrist, turning back to the others. Pixal looks at the back of his head for but a second more—sometimes she forgets how perceptive the Ninja of Earth can be—then she turns away and finally leaves after her friend.
It only takes a few moments to reach Zane, and when she does, Pixal simply grabs his arm lightly, and quickly whispers, “We need to talk. Tonight.”
Zane’s expression is unreadable, but he nods. Pixal very nearly smiles.
There is something wrong with her best friend and this time she is not going to let it go.
--
Although she prides herself on her well of patience, the next few hours pass extremely slowly for Pixal. Fresh off of a victory, the rest of the ninja are not as eager to rest as Zane seemingly was. Though of course, Pixal knows that there is no way her friend is resting at all right now. Which is why she needs everyone to go to bed so they can have this conversation privately. She would simply go wait in the library now, but she does not want to arouse suspicion from the others. The last thing Zane needs is the others’ concern. He would never reveal what was bothering him if they bombarded him like that.
Even now, Pixal questions the chances that he will even open up to her. Zane never hides anything from her, or at least she thought, but it appears that whatever is hurting him has been building up for some time now. Well, she thinks, that ends tonight.
Finally, the others begin succumbing to the late hour, retreating to their rooms for much-needed rest. As she waits for the others to fall asleep, Pixal considers her next move. She does not doubt that Zane will come and find her when the time is right. His nod was not a promise in words, but it was one that she knows he will keep. What she wonders now is how she will direct this conversation. Admittedly, she is not the greatest at such things. It is easier to engage in emotional honesty with Zane, but that does not make it simple. Whether this is because of her status as a Nindroid, or because of who she is as a person, has been a matter of internal debate for as long as she’s been in touch with her own humanity.
Despite her trepidations, Pixal knows that in the end it does not matter how perfectly she is able to steer this conversation. What matters is that she is going to try. So many times Zane has been the one by her side as she grappled with her developing personhood. Now it is her turn to return the favor. To give him what he gave her—a space to exist in the liminal place that Nindroids like them do. Because she knows for a fact that whatever is bothering him involves that liminal space. She knows this as surely as she knows her own name. As Nindroids, there will always be elements of both joy and anguish to be found in that in-between space. It is an existence that they would never give up, but it is an existence that can hurt in a world of humans.
At last, Pixal senses that all the others have fallen asleep. For as long as she has known him, Pixal has rarely ever seen Zane extend his senses the way she routinely does, despite having the capacity to do so. It is not something they have talked about, but Pixal can guess that it probably has to do with the same reason she suspects he’s been acting so erratically. Or perhaps it makes him feel connected to his old body, which he never enhanced the senses of. Although Pixal believes that doing so would be a boon in battle, she has never pushed Zane on it.
Their relationships to humanity are so different, likely a consequence of spending their first years on the opposite side of the human-robot line.
With the others now taking a well-deserved rest, Pixal figures that it is time to make her way to the library. There was no need to tell Zane to meet her there, or when, because the library is a place they have met time and time again. At first, it was simply because both Zane and Pixal were interested in scouring the scrolls and books for new information to input into their databases. It was there that Zane showed her the enjoyment that can come from the experience of truly reading rather than scanning. She may not be as interested in books as he is, but it certainly is one of her favorite ways to spend an afternoon with her closest friend. As their conversations grew more intimate, the library’s quality of being far from the rooms of the Monastery’s other inhabitants became advantageous. And so, it has become their unofficial meeting spot.
Before walking to the library, though, Pixal considers that this conversation is likely going to be difficult, emotionally taxing. Perhaps it would be good to have something calming on hand. So as she walks down the hall she turns early into the kitchen. While she does not rush, she is efficient in acquiring the leaves, water, teapot, cups, and warmer. Neither Pixal or Zane need food to survive, but they’ve both found enjoyment in partaking in certain kinds of foods and drink. Tea is one of them. Pixal is not sure how it manages to still have such calming properties when neither of them have human biology, but it is simply one of those things that she has reluctantly resolved herself to never understanding.
After a few minutes of gathering the supplies, Pixal heads towards the library again, carefully balancing each item in her arms.
When Pixal opens the library doors, she is greeted by the sight of her best friend already sitting there. She smiles lightly, “Zane,” and then holding up the supplies, she says, “Tea?”
Zane offers a nod, but nothing more. Without another word from Pixal, he stands and helps her with all the items she’s carrying, picking up the teapot with water inside, along with their cups. With him being this close, Pixal wonders how she could have ever missed that something was wrong. She can see it all in his movements. They are stiff, regimented, strictly controlled. While Zane is not a being of fluidity, this is certainly uncharacteristic of him.
It is only after the table is set that Zane finally speaks, “I…apologize.” Pixal hasn’t formulated a response by the time he continues, “I have worried you.”
Pixal almost reassures him that there is nothing to apologize for. Of course there is not any reason, but she decides to take a different approach than quick reassurance, “Why do you think you must apologize for this?”
It is clear that Zane was not expecting that response, “I…well…you have more important things to be concerned about than myself, Pixal.”
Pixal shakes her head, “You know that is not true, Zane.”
Zane switches deflecting tactics, “I don’t want to talk about this, Pixal.”
“But you must! Zane, I can tell that this has been bothering you for some time, you should talk about it.” Pixal does not normally lose her temper, but perhaps because she is already angry at herself for missing the warning signs in Zane that irritation comes easy to her now.
Zane closes his eyes, “I will not.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is of no concern to you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Zane sighs, and Pixal almost cannot recognize his dismissiveness. This is very unlike Zane. “You heard me, Pixal. I do not wish to speak of this.”
“With me, you mean?”
That was clearly not what Zane anticipated, “What—?”
“I know you have spoken about this with Cole, Zane. So why not me?” Pixal takes a deep breath, tries to quell her rising temper, “You are allowed to have your secrets, but I had believed that we did not have those between us. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Pixal, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like? Are we not best friends? Do we not share everything with each other? I want to help you Zane, I can tell that something is affecting you. But you will not let me in, and I do not understand why.”
Zane looks away, metal fingers tightly gripping his cup, “Because this is something that I should deal with on my own. I do not want to trouble you with it. It would only serve to hurt you.”
Pixal does not roll her eyes, but it is a near thing. Of course, Zane, her self-sacrificial best friend would say something such as this. But there is another element to his words that serve to set something off within Pixal.
“And why is that your choice to make?” Pixal does not bother to hide her irritation, “Why do you always get to choose for me, Zane?”
Oops. That last part was not intended to come out. Truthfully, Pixal had not realized she still harbored those feelings at all. And besides, they are irrelevant. A way to derail the conversation.
And of course, Zane picks up on it immediately, “This is about more than just today, isn’t it?”
“No, do not change the subject—”
“But I am right though, aren’t I?”
Pixal cannot help but give a light nod at this, and Zane seems to ease slightly, probably because the conversation is now firmly under his control, and the focus is no longer on him. Pixal is too shaken to do anything about this.
Knowing this, Pixal steels herself for the explanation that is to come, “It feels so long ago now, but do you remember those days when it was just us? When I was a part of your mind?”
Zane nods, looking a little unsure of whether he should be wistful or trepidatious. It would be amusing, if the subject did not hurt.
“Before I say anything, I want to say that I was happy with this existence. I truly was! But…”
Zane gently interrupts, “But it wasn’t enough?”
Sometimes, Pixal forgets that there was a time that Zane did not have a body too, even if it was a bit different. “It wasn’t your fault! But…yes.” She continues, “While I liked our existence together, it was a hard adjustment. There was always something missing. I could not choose for myself. I could not move on my own. I had no time to be alone. I wasn’t…me. And it wasn’t…it wasn’t until that moment, in the Cave, when you were attacked by the Vermillion, that I realized that I could not go on like this. Invisible. Unheard. Unhelpful.”
“That is when you left.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. I made a new body. I made sure it could fight. So I could defend both it and you. I did not…I did not want to lose it again.”
She had never voiced any of this before, or had even thought of it in a coherent way, and now that she has started, it is like she cannot stop.
“I kept this secret from you. And I know we discussed this once before, but I do apologize for that. I was scared. I thought you might take offense to my need to be apart from you. Or worse, resent me for it and want me to go back.” Zane looks scandalized at the prospect, which makes Pixal feel worse for ever assuming he would do such a thing. “Even saying this now, I can tell it is hurting you. I am sorry. I wanted my freedom so much, that everything felt like a threat. Even you.”
Zane puts his hand on top of hers. “I understand, I know what that is like. And,” Zane pauses, looking thoughtful, “for what it’s worth, I apologize. For not realizing sooner. For giving you even the faintest impression that I would have been unhappy with your choice to inhabit a new body. I will always support your choices.” And it is the way that he says that last line that makes Pixal think. But she puts those thoughts aside for a moment as she takes in Zane’s words, the apology she never realized she needed until now.
Or maybe she always knew, but she put those needs aside. Perhaps Zane is not the only one to start believing that their needs are not important.
Such is the robotic condition.
“Thank you for the apology. It is most appreciated.” Pixal smiles lightly, accentuating her words.
She allows the ensuing silence to sit for a few moments, but she does not allow it to distract her from her true objective. And something Zane said earlier, it gives her an idea. “If I may turn this conversation back to its original goal…” Zane simply looks weary as she continues, “Earlier, you said that you ‘know what that is like’, referring to my lack of bodily autonomy…is that why the Mechanic’s actions have troubled you so?”
Zane’s lips flatten slightly, and he looks away as he responds, “I…”
Pixal can sense Zane is about to deflect, “Please, Zane. I would not push if I did not think it was necessary. I believe you need to talk about this. Just like I did.”
Pixal can almost see the silent war waging in Zane’s head, to tell her or not to tell her. And to her relief, Zane seems to get his bearings before starting to speak again.
“Alright. Yes, that is why. Or at least,” Zane pauses for a second here, thoughtful, “it is related.” He wears a smile full of sorrow, “Really, it is not even about the Mechanic. It is not even about today. It started a long time before that.”
It is a moment before Zane speaks again, “That freedom you mentioned, that freedom to be yourself…I am not sure I have ever felt it.”
And Pixal’s heart breaks, for both Zane and herself. Because she knows.
“I am happy, being a Nindroid,” Zane says, “But…”
Pixal smiles slightly, recognizing this mirror of just minutes ago, “But?”
“But sometimes I wonder what it is like, to be human. To not be directed by code.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father…he put in my code that my mission is to protect those who cannot protect themselves. And my entire life,” Zane briefly looks to the side here, hesitating. Interesting. “That is what I have done. I have lost pieces of myself to that code. I have died because of that code. And I wonder…is that choice?”
Pixal hums, “Humans do not have code, not like we do.”
“No, they do not. They have rules…but those can be broken. We are programmed to be who we are. Does that feel free to you?”
Pixal sips her tea, “Perhaps not. But…” she takes a chance here, “I am not sure that this is exactly what is bothering you.”
Zane sighs, “It is, and it isn’t. I am having trouble articulating my thoughts. I am thinking of how I am compelled to protect my teammates, and what that has gotten me. I am thinking of how you and I are the only ones like us. I am thinking of being strapped to a machine trying to steal my power, of enemies made using my design, of being used as bait by Chen...”
“Our own natures, turned against us by those who wish to exploit.” Pixal remembers being hacked, another time her body was not her own, but rather a puppet for another. She had not realized how much that had disturbed her. More feelings that had been pushed away. It seems Zane is revealing many unspoken truths tonight.
“Yes. And you know what the worst part is, Pixal?”
She cannot even hazard a guess, because how much worse does it get? Being used over and over like she is nothing? Like they are nothing?
Zane’s expression is resigned, “This is normal for us.”
And…he is right. Pixal has nothing to say to that. She thinks back to earlier that day. Up until she realized that Zane was not at her side, by all accounts, today was a normal day.
A normal day.
Her best friend was nearly scrapped for parts…and that was normal.
That was a typical villain encounter. A typical mission outcome. An experience so common she has noticed the Ninja make jokes about this particular aspect of Zane’s mechanical nature. Even she had dismissed today’s events as nothing more than a regular occurrence for Zane.
How can she describe how this makes her feel? She feels…angry, ashamed. A more complicated mix of feelings that she does not have the aptitude to describe.
Zane’s voice shakes her from her thoughts, “And I wish I could say that was everything.”
Pixal holds back the impulse to gape, because how could there be more?
Zane clearly senses her confusion, “The Never-Realm.”
Pixal is caught off-guard, and she does not bother masking it from her friend, “You remember it?”
“Yes,” Zane pauses, looking at Pixal intensely, “All sixty years of it.”
And oh. When the Ninja had returned from the Never-Realm, they had discussed whether Zane remembered his time there or not. Pixal had considered the possibility that Zane did, but the way he behaved suggested that he did not, so she had dismissed that possibility. It appears that she was wrong. Seems like she has been wrong about a lot of things concerning Zane as of late.
The fact that Zane had spent sixty years there also comes as a surprise to Pixal, although age and time is not something that quite matters to Nindroids. As long as their power source is functional, they could theoretically live indefinitely. What surprises Pixal more about this revelation is the fact that Zane had never revealed it before.
“But…I was the one who suggested that you did not remember the Never-Realm.”
Zane responds after sipping his tea, “Yes.”
“Why did you go along with that? If you have remembered this whole time?”
Zane looks away again, “I…I didn’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember. And I don’t like to think about it. So I just let you all believe I did not know about it. That way I would never have to discuss it. But it makes up so much of my life now, it is almost the only thing I can think about. And I guess you could say it is the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’, as the saying goes.”
“I have only heard bits and pieces about everyone’s time there…what happened, Zane?”
Zane huffs the barest hint of a humorless laugh, “What happened is that I was yet again a pawn in someone else’s game. What happened is that I have now realized that I do not think that I will ever be free…” he trails off into silence, and Pixal allows it. He will elaborate, she is sure of it.
And sure enough, he does, “The man there, Vex…he made me a weapon, Pixal. When I fell into the Realm with the mech, it was damaged. I had to fix it. I had to run a diagnostic.”
Pixal has a sinking feeling she knows where this is going.
“That man…he saw me do it. And he interrupted it. My memories were gone.” Zane’s voice holds a note of pain, and Pixal almost feels grief even though Zane’s memories have evidently returned, “I was a completely blank slate. And so that man…that repugnant man, he had seen what I could do with the scroll and so he molded me into his perfect weapon. All so that he could have power. All I knew was him and his words. I did what he asked. For sixty years. He gave me false choices and I killed thousands. I became a monster because of my nature.”
Pixal feels unmoored. She can only imagine Zane’s anguish. And her own heart shatters all over again. “Zane, I…”
“You do not have to say anything. What is there to say?” Zane looks at Pixal with piercing blue eyes, “You understand why I have not told the others?”
She does.
“Admittedly, I told the truth to Cole in a moment of weakness, but today…you are the only one that can fully understand, Pixal. You and I…Vex could only have made weapons out of us. Because we are not people, not to him. Not to his ilk.”
And Pixal knows this. She knew from the moment she booted up in her first body that she was not human. She was a tool, then. She is not now, but not everyone has caught up with that.
“That is why the worst part is that this is normal…because sometimes,” Zane looks away, “Sometimes I can see the others looking at me the same way.” He looks back at her, eyes unspeakably old, and unspeakably weary, “I am so tired of being a tool, Pixal.”
And with that, Pixal knows that it is time to switch tactics. There is no need to inquire further. She knows what is going on now. And she knows that the only thing left to do is the hardest—comfort Zane about a situation she does not even know how to resolve. At least they are in this together.
Zane leans forward and she catches him, hugging him tightly. Another gesture Zane taught her. She owes him much. She owes him this. She wishes she had another answer for him. She wishes that they were not expected to put their bodies on the line just because they could be repaired. She wishes that danger towards them was treated with more urgency.
She hears his quiet, quiet question, “Will we ever stop being disposable?”
Their natures, forever exploited. The Never-Realm, the Mechanic, Chen, other Nindroids. Their family.
Never a person. Always a tool. Such is the robotic condition.
And damn, is it such a lonely condition.
At least they have each other. That is just going to have to be enough.