Kamui: Aeternion I
>[player name], can you hear me? This is Kamui.
A torrential downpour rages, ravaging through the muddy paths across the wasteland. A sickly and leaden gray blankets the sky, and lightning and thunder roar within the clouds, disrupting the stability of the communication channel.
The armored vehicle's windshield wipers swing frantically, yet they are simply unable to clear the curtain of rain obstructing visibility. The piercing white noise in the communication finally recedes after a while, and Kamui's voice comes through.
Situation report: Escort mission has been disrupted by Corrupted tide. We've deviated from the original route. Two of our vehicles have been damaged, and some personnel have sustained minor injuries.
We've evacuated the survivors to coordinates (342, 115), which appears to be an abandoned eco garden. The surrounding area has been secured. Requesting backup.
His voice is clear and stable, with almost textbook formality. This is highly unusual. On the other end of the communication channel, you think of the usual Kamui:
[player name]! Good morning! It's been a while!
What a coincidence, Commandant! Did ya miss me?
You glance again at the caller ID displayed on the communicator. It does, in fact, say "Kamui," yet an inexplicable sense of unease continues to grow within you.
Minor damage to the left shoulder. Will not affect battle performance. Frame readings normal. Thank you for your concern. Please prioritize securing the support route. I will hold the line until your arrival. Over.
The transmission ends. You stare at the blank screen, an indescribable feeling of unease looming.
Since when did Kamui learn to speak so formally?
Doubt lingers while concern runs rampant. The vehicle, loaded with food and medical supplies, races through the pouring rain toward the massive dome-shaped structure displayed on the terminal—a building now engulfed in vines and marks left by time.
Abandoned Eco Garden
By the time you reach the eco garden, the rain outside has intensified to alarming levels. Unease roots itself deeper in you as messages on the terminal report supply delivery delays from various outposts due to extreme weather.
The thick isolation doors and protective canopy stand firm against the howling storm outside. Though the interior of the eco garden is dilapidated, with the ceiling being covered in vines and cracks, it remains dry and warm.
Faint lights flicker at the energy control center—everything here seems to be operational still.
Sorry, gramps! Hang in there for a sec. This spray'll help with the pain.
All good! Just make sure you don't do anything too crazy for the next few days, okay?
The emergency lighting casts a faint yellow glow, revealing the somewhat chaotic hall. Refugees huddle together, the air thick with moisture and anxiety.
Kamui doesn't immediately notice your arrival. The golden-haired construct stands at the center of the crowd, like a sun radiating warmth and light, dispelling the surrounding unease and shadows.
I've called for backup from Babylonia! Just hang in there a little longer, okay? More help and supplies are on the way!
Kamui wears a radiant, warm smile, and his eyes are filled with reassuring warmth. He skillfully comforts those around him, full of the same vibrant energy he's always had.
You breathe a sigh of relief, your earlier concerns partially fading away. Perhaps Kamui's distant, formal tone during your call was simply due to the urgency of the situation.
You quickly approach, softly calling Kamui's name. The construct hears the voice and pauses his conversation with a child. He stands up and turns toward you.
[player name], thank you for coming all this way in the rain. Support arrived much faster than I had anticipated. I appreciate your assistance.
You expected an enthusiastic hug, but are instead met with Kamui standing at attention. He offers the commandant a standard military salute. His face still wears the same smile as before, yet something feels amiss.
Me? I'm Kamui from Strike Hawk.
Just as you are about to pat his shoulder, your hand freezes mid-air. Kamui's eyes are clear and bright, but they lack that special gleam he always has when seeing the commandant.
It's the kind of perfect friendliness one can show to just about anyone, even ordinary staff.
Your gaze scrutinizes the familiar yet strangely foreign construct before you. His frame is covered in mud and scratches, with several burn marks on his left shoulder, telling tales of a battle.
You instinctively reach out to examine the wound on his left arm. Kamui, however, takes the initiative and helps you sit down instead. A carefully calculated distance is maintained between the two of you the entire time.
A perfectly courteous way of distancing oneself. Not abrupt enough to seem rude, yet precisely calculated to avoid your touch.
These are simply minor external wounds. They won't affect my frame's performance.
[player name], more importantly... do we have any more medical supplies for humans? Many people are injured. Everyone here is quite unstable, emotionally—they need our reassurance.
He steps aside, revealing the refugees huddled together behind him, their faces etched with fear and uncertainty.
Some were injured when escaping from the Corrupted. A few children were exposed to the rain for too long and have been afflicted with fevers.
His voice is filled with urgency and genuine concern for the refugees. It is sincere as always—yet, to your ears, it sounds like Kamui is forcing himself to act differently than usual.
I've administered some basic treatment, but our medical supplies and food won't last long... [player name], will additional supplies be arriving soon?
...
It's fine, [player name]. You braving the storm to get here is already more than enough. And these supplies will address our most pressing needs.
This is only a temporary shelter, after all. Eventually, we'll need to relocate everyone to a proper conservation area.
As they talk, the elderly refugee from earlier totters over to them, pulling Kamui's arm with trembling hands, his face overflowing with gratitude.
[player name], this is Luke. He's the leader of this group of refugees.
Luke, this is [player name], the support I requested from Babylonia...
Thank you, Kamui... and greetings to you as well, [player name] from Babylonia. But... are you the only one that came?
The sight of a lone individual as their "support" is clearly not enough to console the anxious refugees.
[player name] set out immediately after receiving my communication, despite the storm. Unfortunately, the severe weather outside has delayed the arrival of additional support and supplies. Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience.
My... what's with all this formality, Kamui? You weren't nearly this polite with us before.
The old man plays along with Kamui's surprisingly formal manner, while his eyes discreetly drift toward you.
Protecting everyone is my responsibility and my mission. Allow me to help you get over there and rest. [player name] and I will take inventory of our supplies. Food and medicine will be delivered shortly.
Kamui bows his head, patiently supporting the old man, speaking in a gentle tone. His attitude is impeccable—attentive, responsible, diligent, reliable...
But... why isn't Kamui enthusiastically regaling you with tales of the hardships he faced on the way here and his heroic deeds...?
Why is he so... restrained, meticulous, and polite? It's all great and all, except it's nothing like the Kamui you know.
[player name], could you please inspect the defense facilities here? While the chances are slim, we should completely eliminate the possibility of a Corrupted infiltration.
The two of you split up your tasks without exchanging another word. You check the surrounding environment once more, confirming that the ecological zone's protection and alert systems are operating flawlessly.
Just as you complete your inspection of the perimeter and prepare to regroup with Kamui, a commotion erupts from the crowd.
We're moving AGAIN? I don't wanna do this anymore! This whole conservation area thing is just a lie!
A child is throwing a tantrum at Kamui, who stands before him.
Jerome! Mind your manners. Kamui has done so much for us...
Mind my manners?! We've been relocated THREE TIMES just this year! They promise us a new home every single time, and what have we gotten? Have we stayed in a single place for more than three months?
"We'll be safe here." Yeah right. It always ends the same way!
We either shuffle around because of the endless excuses from Babylonia, or we get to run for our lives from the Punishing Virus and Red Tide!
The child's anger draws Kamui's gaze toward the old man. There's a hint of guilt in his expression, and Luke doesn't look back towards Kamui.
His evasive gaze avoids Kamui, only to be caught by yours instead. Noticing you approaching, he scurries to cover the child's mouth.
Stop this nonsense...! Once we reach the new conservation area, we'll... we'll have a new home.
You're the one talking nonsense! You know we'll just get kicked out again anyway... A conservation area can never be our home! There's no such thing as a "home" here!
The child yanks his arm away from the old man's grasp. His voice breaks as he cries hysterically.
The eyes of the refugees who have fallen silent also begin to dim—it speaks of the despair and exhaustion these vagrants have accumulated. Then, some of them murmur in agreement.
Yeah... Even if we make it to the conservation area, who knows how long we'll be safe there...
Babylonia means well, but all this moving around is too much... Not to mention our losses just from the last few times...
The atmosphere grows heavy, and deafening silence fills the air. It feels as if a storm is brewing.
You look toward Kamui. Normally, he would be doing everything possible to cheer the child up, thumping his chest while making declarations like:
"Don't worry! I've got this!"
Promises that might be difficult for him to keep. Still, he'd do everything possible to fulfill them. That slightly awkward enthusiasm of his has always been infectious, warming the hearts of everyone around him just like the sun.
But now, Kamui simply walks up to the children, wearing a gentle yet restrained smile as he calmly looks at the crying child.
Everyone, please remain calm. Our current accommodations are indeed temporary. According to my intel, the weather outside is severe and unsuitable for travel, once conditions improve, we will resume our relocation to the designated conservation area...
Everyone is gonna be okay. Regarding your concerns and requests, I have documented everything in detail. These records will be submitted to the designated conservation area authorities to ensure your needs are addressed.
His response is rational, precise, and isn't at all harsh—but it doesn't sound like Kamui at all. Faced with such an unfamiliar reply, Jerome freezes in surprise. The boy had been ready to vent his frustrations, but clearly hadn't expected such a bureaucratic response.
Tears well up in the child's eyes, yet not a single drop falls, making him seem even more miserable than before.
You sigh, struggling to push through the crowd before pulling out a compressed ration bar from your pocket and offering it to Jerome.
But the child doesn't accept your kindness or the ration bar. He curls up into a ball, his eyes wary and distant.
You casually place a hand on Kamui's shoulder, feeling a slight tremor through your palm that immediately subsides.
Jerome doesn't respond. After a moment of consideration, he finally takes the ration bar from your hand and begins devouring it. Tears silently roll down his face, falling onto his dirty hands as he eats.
You reach out and gently wipe the smudges off the child's face. You then stand up and turn to the crowd.
A wave of whispers ripples through the crowd before gradually subsiding. Kamui looks at you gratefully as you defuse what could have been a full-blown crisis.
Highly effective communication. Thank you for your assistance, [player name]. I would likely have been unable to calm everyone's emotions so efficiently.
I'll continue distributing resources. [player name], you've been working hard for some time now. Please take a moment to rest.
After that, Kamui politely nods to you and Luke, who is standing nearby, before his busy figure merges back into the crowd.
You and the elderly man look at each other, and after a brief, somewhat awkward silence, the old man speaks first.
[player name], Kamui wasn't like this before...
Sigh... He's so different now that even Jerome is starting to be afraid of him...
The elderly man shows a hint of guilt, hesitates for a moment, then slowly begins to speak.
Earlier, when Kamui was escorting our group, we were ambushed by a horde of Corrupted...
Kamui told us to go ahead while he stayed behind to hold them off... By the time he caught up to us, he was already injured, and... he started speaking like that.
The old man's words of concern betray him. His worry for Kamui because of his sudden transformation following the incident is on full display.
[player name]... Kamui will be alright, right?
As the refugees receive food and medicine one after another, both you and the Construct finally get a brief moment to rest.
Now that everyone's settled in, I should go patrol the perimeter to make sure we're in the clear.
You call out to Kamui, who seems unable to stay still, and meet his calm yet questioning gaze. You speak again.
Without waiting for a response, you grab Kamui's wrist. He flinches, but still complies with you quietly, like a patient cooperating during a medical examination.
?
No.
Alright.
After establishing the connection, you carefully examine the effects of the recent battle on Kamui. Strangely enough, he only has a few minor scrapes that barely even qualify as injuries.
However, Kamui's M.I.N.D. is suspiciously calm. You find none of the usual fluctuations that normally appear when he sees you.
His sea of consciousness is like still water, clean as a blank sheet of paper.
[player name], have you reached any conclusions?
You disconnect from Kamui's M.I.N.D and immediately open a communication channel to Asimov, reporting his condition.
The projection expands, showing Asimov hunched over, taking notes.
What business do you have with me at this hour... Hm? Kamui? Is there an issue with his new frame?
Let me see... The damage on the frame isn't severe. These fluctuations in his M.I.N.D. are concerning...
I can't confirm that right now. The cause isn't important, but judging by the indicators...
You and Asimov, who's on the other end of the projection, examine Kamui carefully. He shows no discomfort and simply stands quietly on the side, waiting for his diagnosis.
It could be an Emotional Logic Attribution Anomaly...
A type of emotional disruption. Look at this waveform...
Asimov pulls up a chart, pointing to a completely flat line with no fluctuations, his tone calm and professional.
Put simply, while his emotional cognition is still functioning, he's lost the ability to assign "weight." You can understand it as his mind forcibly assigning equal importance to everyone.
Normally, a construct's M.I.N.D. shows emotional fluctuations for various reasons.
In Kamui's case, his emotional readings would typically show fluctuations when interacting with you or other Strike Hawk members. Because to him, you are all special. But now... this line is completely flat.
Your heart sinks. Looking over at Kamui, you're met with nothing but his polite, restrained smile.
You ponder silently.
I can see that you're worried... but he'll be fine. Despite his current behavior, his personality, memories, and all frame functions remain unaffected. He's still the Kamui you know.
He's still helpful and will prioritize protecting humans. It's just that he'll act the same in front of you as he does in front of the refugees. He's temporarily lost that special filter that marks you as important.
These words pierce your heart like a thorn, and you furrow your brow.
Seeing your expression, Kamui gives you a concerned look. His gaze is clear and friendly, yet it lacks the passionate warmth it once held.
This state is usually temporary. It could be a response to high-stress environments, or a self-protection mechanism following his injuries in battle. He's subconsciously suppressed intense emotions that might interfere with rational judgment.
The weather in your area isn't suitable for transport aircraft to land or take off, and the forecast predicts that the thunderstorms will continue over the next few days. Besides, emotional disruption of this degree will likely recover just as well on its own in a stable environment as it would with maintenance...
Furthermore, there are no squads in your vicinity available for redeployment. Since the eco garden you're in is in decent shape, you should prioritize completing the mission.
Asimov pauses, tucking away the documents in his hand. He glances at Kamui, who has been quietly listening to their entire conversation, and his tone softens.
Perhaps right now, Kamui needs your help more than ever.
The call ends. The holographic projection vanishes, and silence returns to the surroundings. Only the dull sound of raindrops hitting the dome overhead remains.
Kamui walks over to you and hands you a bottle of water. He's loosened the cap slightly to make it easier to open, just as he always does.
[player name], hydration helps maintain physical performance. After all that talking, you must be thirsty.
You take the water, staring again at this familiar face with an unfamiliar expression. Despite standing right beside each other, the distance between you feels vast.
...[player name]?
How am I... feeling?
Kamui looks you in the eye, thinking the question over seriously. However, he is unable to come up with anything more than rational analysis and judgment as an answer.
Everything is fine, except for the fact that we might need to hold out here for a few more days...
Our current supplies, food, and medicine may not last much longer. Other than these concerns, I feel alright.
Is something wrong? Are you experiencing any discomfort, [player name]?
His tone is restrained, polite, and considerate. It is the perfect manner given the situation, but you frown in response.
He notices your disappointment, but offers nothing more than a concerned, puzzled look in response.
Click, click, buzz—
A sudden mechanical noise interrupts your dejection. Without warning, the silent broadcast system in the eco garden emits a skin-crawling buzz...
Then, the buzz gives way to rough static. Following it is a series of intermittent, cough-like sputters accompanied by trembling tones from an unstable signal. It is as if the ancient equipment is struggling to clear its throat after awakening from a long slumber.
The pitch-black service console suddenly lights up, like an eye abruptly opening. Monitoring probes, long unused and presumed to be broken, reawaken with flickering blue lights, a sign that their sensors aren't exactly reliable.
Kamui reacts almost instantly. He positions himself in front at an astonishing speed, his movements clean and decisive without a hint of hesitation. Yet, you still notice something subtly off about his response.
Usually, he would instinctively glance back to check on your safety first, confirm the battle plan, and position you where he could quickly move you to safety.
This time, he still skillfully positions you in a safe spot just as before. The difference is that he no longer communicates with you. Instead, he springs into action immediately.
Detecting... Family member login. Biometric identification in progress... Welcome home to Philimon Eco Garden.
The rotund robot finally appears. Its optical sensors seem almost completely broken. After misidentifying you as its owner, it jerks and redirects its scanning probe toward Kamui.
New visitor login. Welcome, scanning identity information... Family member registered.
Kamui points his finger back and forth between himself and the scanning camera, confirming that he is indeed the "family member" the robot just mentioned.
?
He freezes for a moment, then turns to look at you, who, for the first time in a while, see the type of intense emotion he used to show.
