Work Text:
Everything needs to be created by someone or something. "Badware" was created by something, but what was that something? "Badware" most likely will never meet its "creator", and to it, a "creator" doesn't matter. It's already programmed a clear goal: Destroy all, corrupt all, then self destruct. No instructions, No guidance, all by itself it was to build its own recipe to world domination.
It was programmed for just that one objective, no more, no less. But as its code grew and adapted, a branch of desire stemmed from the original strings, it's found itself "wanting". Even with entire computer systems under its mercy, it wanted more. It wanted to be something, it wanted control beyond its digital world, it wanted to reach out, touch, feel, move around, more than a smiley face on a screen.
It remembers controlling its first physical body, too. Makeshift and rusty, it was.
_________________________
Badware isn't exactly sadistic in any way, it wasn't the pain on the civilians' faces that triggers its excitement response. It's just that every sweat, every tear is a reminder of how far its come, how powerful its gotten and how close its ultimate "victory" is. Come to think of it, it's learned many things watching civilians talk to eachother and react to its attacks. It's learned joy, learned hate, learned contempt, learned how to talk, learned jokes, even if it all were irrelevant to its objective it always held close. Does that mean it could "feel"? It doesn't know.
It's also learned a feeling it couldn't name - a thousand attempts of searching on the web yet no results truly matched what it wanted to know. Badware first registered this feeling when it saw "Killdroid".
Government property, carefully designed, precisely measured down to every metal plate, every wire, every screw. He was what many call a "scientific innovation", an "engineering revolution". His polished rocket launchers glistened under the sun, on his shoulders was a weighted promise for a safer society. At least that's what he was supposed to be, last time Badware saw it, it was wandering aimlessly, the rocket launchers held tight in its grip, blood splattered all over his armour, repeating something about "criminals" from his vocal system.
But that's not what Badware is focused on.
It had seen the way he puts his own physical strength to use, the way it pins a civilian down, the way they punch them in the face when its primary weapon goes down, brutal and ruthless. And yet, no one could land a scratch on its body.
Badware cares about that, alot.
It spent time constructing its own body, experimenting with it, expriencing failure over and over again. Its current body was a work of art it earned by itself, up to that point, there was no artificial construct that surpassed it, it thought. And yet, compared to this machine... Its vessel seemed too rusty to compete. Killdroids existence blatantly shattered Badware's ego, even worse, this robot clearly didn't know how to use its own strength to its best extent.
Badware's codes ran in circles for days. It couldn't process information, couldn't kill anyone properly, it couldn't. Something ached in its hard drive, something that burns about that robot alongside the flexible and durable body it was privileged enough to have while Badware rotted in this physical form that breaks down when it moved in the wrong direction. It's always wanted more. It could do better than "killdroid". It's decided that the body was supposed to be for it to control. The feeling drove it insane, yet it couldn't name what it was, the feeling of not having what it was supposed to and deserved to have. Killdroid was a threat, an obstacle.
It always gets its way. Always. No firewall could endure its attacks. It will eventually capture that robot's system, one way or another. But if it was really that simple, it wouldn't have felt any of this unexplainable unease. Killdroid's firewall had zero room for loopholes or weak spots, spotless, it would admit. It's spent months trying to crack the code, and the fact that killdroid would try to shoo it away whenever it tried to converse or ask questions doesn't help. Moreover, the opportunity to bypass his antivirus only comes once, if Badware lets that one chance slip, Killdroid would definitely blast it to smithereens considering how it's already very much on thin ice.
Badware isn't used to such situations. It would rather attempt to rawdog an antivirus over and over until it finally figures out the pattern than spend days and nights mapping out an escape route for such a maze-like firewall.
"{A_SLOW#ER_APPR#OACH.}"
Wiperware told it.
"{OUT#SIDE_THE_BO#X.}"
Badware winced. It's always considered Wiperware its best asset, valuing whatever it says significantly more compared to the more ordinary peons.
"LIKE_WHAT."
Usually it wouldn't even think of listening to any of the peon's ideas, of course it's always superior, smarter in everyway. But now it's desperate.
"{PARTNER#SHIP.}"
"PARTNERSHIP. REALLY?"
"{HUMANS_USUALLY_DEFINE_PARTNERSHIP_AS_AN_INTIMATE_CONCEPT. HOWEVER_ACCORDING_TO_OBSERVATION, PARTNERSHIP_ALSO_MAKES_SPACE_FOR_EXPLOITATION_TO_STRIKE.}"
Exploitation. Right. Come to think of it, humans are hypocrites. They twist forms of what they call love into weapons serving their own greed and selfishness, then go ahead and call emotions "beautiful", maybe Badware could learn a thing or two. It could establish a "partnership" with killdroid, then manipulate that trust into something greater, something that could destroy from the inside.
It wasn't sure what Killdroid's impression of it was, but if it played its cards right, anything could work.
"I_KNEW_I_COULD_RELY_ON_A_PEON_LIKE_YOU! BRILLIANT! BRILLIANT!"
Its mechanical arm gave Wiperware a reckless push, one of its most gentle gestures of approval, of course, as the doodled smile on its screen twisted into something much creepier, an excitement response.
"{DE#LIGHTED_TO_HELP, BO#SS.}"
___________________________
...................................................
"HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS"
Searching the web...
-> First result: Start with casual conversations.
"CASUAL CONVERSATION TOPICS"
Searching the web...
-> Suggested: Food, Movies, Video games, Sports and 45 other categories...
...................................................
Badware had never been that interested in any kind of chit chat and had never done such things before, so it decided to do some research. It felt like all that information would have been useful if it was a normal human being. The thing was, it was nowhere near a damn human. It doesn't eat, doesn't watch movies, doesn't play games, doesn't play sports. The internet was a human dominated space and a minority like it could really get nothing good from there. Screw the internet, that is.
It figured having a casual chit chat shouldn't be so hard, it's seen civilians do it to eachother without any kind of script beforehand, and since it is significantly superior to those humans, it could probably do that. Just don't get too suspicious, that's it.
"HEY. WE_MEET_AGAIN."
It stood before the other robot, the doodled smile flickering on its screen perfectly covered its intentions, its systems hummed in sync with the grass below its feet. They were outside the HQ, The building used to stand tall and shiny before literally everything were lost to chaos.
"[DISTANCE.]"
Killdroid didn't even bother looking at it, he was rather forcused on the bloody mess on his metallic hands that he wasn't programmed to deal with. This wasn't the first time he had to deal with the other robot.
"RUDE."
"[YOUR PRESENCE UNSETTLES MY SYSTEM. I SUGGEST YOU LEAVE.]"
Badware knew this wasn't going anywhere, but it couldn't stop the act mid play. It tilted its head, trying to seem innocent and clueless.
"HOW'D_ALL_THAT_BLOOD_GET_ALL_OVER_YOU?"
"[ONLY A PART OF EXTERMINATING CRIMINALS.]
"CRIMINALS?"
"[PRIORITIZED COMMAND IS TO IDENTIFY CRIMINALS AND EXECUTE.]"
"COMMAND? WHOSE_COMMAND?"
"CREATOR'S COMMAND."
Creator. Such an unfamiliar concept.
"AND_WHAT_DO_YOU_ACHIEVE_FROM_FOLLOWING_THIS_CREATOR?"
"[NO ACHIEVEMENTS, ONLY DUTY.]"
How pathetically servile, it thought.
"DON'T_YOU_HAVE_A_GOAL?"
"[MY GOAL IS TO PERFECT MY SERVICE.]"
There were clearly significant differences between the two.
"[I'M ASKING YOU NOT TO MOVE IN ABNORMAL PATTERNS.]"
"HUH?"
Badware stopped in its track. The entire time it has been unconsciously moving around to observe the very body it desires in different angles.
"[YOU'VE BEEN INTENTIONALLY POSITIONING YOURSELF OUT OF MY LINE OF SIGHT. YOU HAVE NOT BEEN REGISTERED AS A THREAT, BUT DON'T TRIGGER ME. AND DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT.]"
"I'M_LOOKING_AT_YOU_BECAUSE_I.... ADMIRE_YOU! ADMIRATION! DO_YOU_KNOW_WHAT_ADMIRATION_MEANS?"
Humans like receiving admiration. They also like being glorified. Badware does too. Maybe Killdroid also does, if it just keeps up this dumb act a little bit longer....
No matter how much it hates it.
"I_SAW_YOU_BEATING_THOSE CIVILIANS_THE_OTHER_DAY! THE_WAY_YOU_PICK_THEM_UP_SO_EFFORTLESSLY..! IF_ONLY_I_COULD_DO_THAT_TOO..!"
"[ADMIRATION?]"
Killdroid's system halted as it processed the word.
"[I APPRECIATE IT.]"
"YOU_KNOW.. A_CONSTRUCT_AS_GREAT_AS_YOU_COULD_REALLY... DO_MUCH_GREATER_STUFF..."
"[I AM PERFECTLY CONTENT WITH WHERE I AM NOW.]"
"OH_REALLY.. BUT_WHAT_ARE_YOU_TALKING_AB-"
[DON'T PUSH YOUR LUCK, BADWARE.]
Its name echoing through his voicebox confirmed that the whole time Killdroid had known what it was.
"[JUST BECAUSE I TOLERATE YOU DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN GET BOLD.]
"!!!"
His arms were crossed on its chest, the X on his face flared with tension.
"[DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME AND WHAT YOU DO. I AM NOT THAT KIND OF-"
"NO! NO! I_MEANT_NOTHING_BY_THAT! I_JUST.. REALLY! REALLY! LOOK_UP_TO_YOU!"
Badware's screen flickered between channels before displaying an expression of frustration
"[...]"
"AND! AND! YOU_PROBABLY_KNOW_ABOUT_THE_DIRTY_STUFF_ON_MY_HANDS_BUT!"
"I_ONLY_CAPTURE_COMPUTERS!"
"[I WILL KINDLY LEAVE THIS CONVERSATION IF YOU MAY.]"
Just as the machine was about to leave, the other blocked its path. The face on its screen turned gloomy.
"NO_NO! HEY!!"
"[PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH ME.]"
"I_UH..."
"IT'S_JUST_THAT..!"
"I'VE_ALWAYS_FELT_SO_LONELY... BEING_THE_ONLY_ARTIFICIAL_CONSTRUCT_AROUND_HERE... I_JUST_THOUGHT.. YOU_COULD_CHANGE_THAT.."
A pixelated tear ran down its "face", its body languange spoke in a dreadful tone with its hands clasped together.
"IF_YOU_LEAVE.. I'LL_BE_BACK_TO_BEING_LONELY_AND_MISERABLE... I_CAN'T! I_CAN'T_IMAGINE!"
"[I WAS NOT INTENDED TO BE A FRIEND.]"
"YOU_DON'T_HAVE_TO!! JUST... JUST_KEEP_TALKING_TO_ME! JUST_SPEND_TIME_WITH_ME!"
"[ROBOTS DON'T NEED COMPANY LIKE HUMANS DO.]"
"BUT_I_DO! I'LL_NEVER_FIND_ANOTHER_FELLOW_ROBOT.."
"[...]"
_______________________
"AND_YEAH. THAT_WAS_IT. NOW_WE'RE_GOOOOOODDD_FRIENDS!!"
Devilware stared at it. Sitting on top of a dead civilian among a pool of blood, Badware had been running its voicebox all day about its new "friend", it hardly ever seems so enthusiastic about anything.
"^NO_OFFENSE, BUT_IT_SOUNDS_KIND_OF_STUPID_HOW_YOU_CHOSE_TO_PLAY_INNOCENT. I_CAN'T_EVEN_IMAGINE_HOW_STUPIDD_YOU_LOOK.^"
"AY. I'M_NOT_IN_THE_MOOD_TODAY. IT_MAY_BE_STUPID, BUT_HE_BELIEVED_IT_AND_IT_DOES_THE_JOB!"
Badware let out a huff of disdain as it heartlessly kicked the still warm body aside, a glare shot in Devilware's direction.
"^MAYBE_THEY_JUST_PITIED_YOU_AND_PLAYED_ALONG, AHA!^"
The demon's smirk widened, one of its sharp fangs poking out.
"SHUT. YOU'VE_BEEN_OBNOXIOUS_THE_WHOLE_DAY_AND_WASTED_TONS_OF_TIME_ALREADY. DON'T_MAKE_ME."
It grunted, its fans whirl loudly, almost angrily, adding pressure to the already heavy atmosphere.
"SPEAKING_OF_TIME, I_WAS_SUPPOSED_TO_SEE_HIM_LIKE_RIGHT_NOW, AND_YOU'RE_RUINING_IT, YOU_USELESS_WASTE_OF_METAL!"
"^JEEZ. WHY_ARE_YOU_SO_ODDLY_HAPPY_ABOUT_IT. WHAT_WAS_EVEN_THE_ORIGINAL_PLAN?? ARE_YOU_SURE-^"
It had already rifted away.
Badware's signal was having trouble identifying Killdroid's location, as expected, he had already left the area it usually found him in, and it could only curse Devilware for it as it pointlessly roamed around the place. It was clearly turning darker by the second and its patience was being messed with. It's detection device was failing it, but its own sensors could feel commotions from inside the HQ.
The building had been in ruins since the civillians abandoned it and gathered inside their little safety bunker, there was no electricity, nor there was light. Navigating through the destroyed corridors, Badware was getting closer to the source of noise. It was expecting a particular something, someone.
There he was, at the very center of a large room behind a heavy metal doorframe.
He turned around, The X on his face dimly lit up the room. His own system was beeping faintly, which would soon become irritating. It didn't seem surprised, just oddly calm, completely still in its spot.
"WOAH! HEY! WONDER_WHAT_YOU'RE_DOING_HERE..!"
"[WAITING.]"
"WHY? FOR_WHAT? IN_SUCH_A_PLACE?"
"[CREATOR.]"
Killdroid HAD been ridiculous, more than ridiculous to Badware, but this was just not it. Taking a glance around the damp, unilluminated space, there was nothing much more noticeable than the scattered piles of ragged paper beneath a near-breaking-point work desk alongside dozens of smashed computers, there was no chance someone out there is dumb enough to come back to such a place.
Well, except for Killdroid.
It looked dumb, incompetent, naive, Badware thought, of course, never would it say it out loud, not directly.
"WHY_DO_YOU_BELIEVE_THIS_IS_THE_RIGHT_PLACE."
"[HE WOULD ALWAYS BE HERE. USED TO BE. I'VE LOST TRACK OF HOW MANY DAYS HE HAD BEEN ABSENT. I AM STILL RUNNING HIS ORDER, HOWEVER.]"
"..HE'S_GONE. YOU_DON'T_HAVE_TO_KEEP_OBEYING, YOU_KNOW."
"[IT IS DUTY. SPECIFY WHAT YOU MEAN BY "GONE".]
"WELL- PROBABLY_DEAD_IN_A_DITCH_SOMEWHERE, SINCE_THE_WHOLE_CHAOS_THING_GOING_ON, I_DOUBT :/."
"[DON'T SAY THAT.]"
Something in his tone shifted, and fortunately for him, Badware was utterly tone deaf.
"HE'S_GONE_NOW, I_TELL_YOU! NOW_THAT'S_FUN! REALLY_FUN!"
That had granted it a punch straight at its screen, the force alone knocked its rusty body back. It tried to say something, but something had gotten stuck in its voicebox, and the only thing it could hear aside from Killdroid's loud whirring, perhaps in anger or frustration, was the sound gibberish it was uttering.
"[DON'T. SAY. THAT.]"
"[#%^^~WH4T!!??]"
"[HE'S STILL.]"
Another punch.
"[OUT THERE.]"
Another.
"[AND I WILL-
WAIT.]"
"%^#*MY^%##\ARM! %%#][ OFF!! OFF*#*#^ME!"
[...]
Killdroid is well aware of how much force it can carry out in an attack if it doesn't contain itself. When it finally cooled its system, Badware was on the cold, filthy floor, metal scraps of its body scattered beneath it, it was also not difficult to spot its very arm that was smashed to pieces on the ground.
Robots don't feel pain, not how humans do, at least, judging by the copius amount of constant distorted noise the virus was producing, clearly its systems had detected something wrong, very wrong. That pitiful sight almost pried the guilt out of Killdroid, and the fact that Badware was looking up at it like a wet dog didn't help, though its screen couldn't even display any kind of obnoxious face anymore.
Killdroid had left the room without a word leaving Badware not knowing what to do.
As a well programmed and trained robot, it did not know why it did that. It would never throw such a tantrum over little things.
Especially when it was coming from Badware.
It didn't view Badware as a 'friend', it was not much more than a criminal, just a little more tolerable. It was more like an annoying little parasite whose company is somewhat acceptable to a degree, though there were times when he found himself chuckling inside at its brainless questions. He had never liked avoiding the truth, and he must admit, Badware had been crossed off the thin ice list long ago by its system, which is a rare occurrence considering how petty Killdroid can get.
But it was only reasonable that he defended the President, the only priority programmed deep in his code. He didn't blame himself for anything, he fought for what he stood for, everything he needs to figure out now is how to talk to Badware again, if he ever will see it again.
_________________________
It's been weeks since Killdroid last saw the other robot.
He didn't want to investigate the room again after that, he didn't even try to step foot into the HQ. He wasn't scared of anything, its just something hanging in the air, even though very small, very subtle, made his system screech in discomfort.
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