Story Reader / Interlude / Treasure / Story
After a while, Commandant and I have gotten used to regular drills in Babylonia's simulated training environments.
Though I longed for the battlefield, I couldn't step foot on it, as long as Gray Raven remained short-handed.
Hey, if it isn't "top gun" over there.
Just hanging out, [player name]?
What more do you expect from HQ's number one sweetheart? I bet that Construct's just here for show, our toppa-the-class is just waiting on that promotion to Command Central.
Gotta say, I do envy these internal promotions. Who else would have the privilege of getting an undermanned team and cheating their way out of deployment?
As a subordinate, I kept my cool and held my tongue, just as Commandant did.
But I could not shake the fact that this happened because Commandant chose me.
Every time I heard of these rumors, I would ask Commandant why I was chosen instead of the countless teams, ready and willing to fight.
Commandant became top of the class fair and square. People will know that Commandant's abilities are above reproach, if only we can be deployed...
Because of this, I toyed with the idea of requesting a re-pairing.
But every time I brought it up, Commandant would respond the same way, dispelling the notion.
We're fine the way we are.
As Commandant said it, over and over, I felt the germination of something I'd once called "emotions" long ago.
Feeling in person the "selflessness" of Commandant's actions, I silenced my own rebukes.
To be sure, my interactions with Commandant reawakened the emotions within me.
For Constructs, emotions were part of the package. Being human once, we understood the meaning of the word, the value of it.
But it was because of Commandant that I re-learned these emotions. To borrow a word frequently used among Constructs, I "rebooted".
The occasional gift, proffered without cause, taught me joy, something I had once neglected as tangential to the mission at hand.
Gradually, I learned that the gifts were not of reward, or compensation, but simply given.
I felt my heart leap each time I received something from Commandant that, by all accounts, I did not own or deserve.
Joy. That was what I felt. Receiving a gift always makes me feel like I owed Commandant something, to which the same answer always came.
Just smile.
It was... a difficult command to carry out.
And then I learned of sadness as the accusations grew. I kept my cool as always, stopping myself from jumping to Commandant's defense.
But wherever I turned, those whispers would still reach me and trigger undiagnosed processes in my M.I.N.D..
That was sadness. Not for myself, but for others, for Commandant, because I could not bear the slander against Commandant's name.
So I kept my blade sharp, not for the prospect of showing my skill, but for the need to prove that of my Commandant's.
And then, I learned the way Commandant thought, observed how tactics and strategy formed in Commandant's movements.
Though our interactions will always be between human and machine, I still held to the hope that I can grow closer to Commandant, and become the best.
—And thus, I learned anger.
You won't chicken out, will you, Lucia?
What... what is this?
On one of Commandant's rest days, I was summoned to a training room by an unpaired team of Constructs. When I arrived, I saw that they had both their weapons and mine, along with a wager—with Commandant as the stakes.
So if I lose, I hand over my commandant to you?
After all, we are fully staffed and ready to deploy, whereas with you, I'm afraid you'll never...
Ha!
What?!
Without hesitation, I went on the offensive against the Constructs. In my mind, battle was joined the moment weapons were drawn.
Coward! Jumping the gun just to win!?
The rest only got into formation after one of them already went down, readying their weapons.
Three against one? You're the real cowards.
Tch... these are basic tactics, our team against yours. Attack!
Yep!
I had no interest in contests of skill. Victories in training rooms mean little to nothing.
But not when Commandant was at stake.
In that moment, I realized with absolute clarity that I resented the idea of Commandant leaving me, and loathed the prospect of anyone placing stakes on our separation.
Because of that, I picked up the fallen Construct's blade, and charged for break in their formation.
Throw everything you've got at me. Commandant... is mine!
