+++

The Machine Network paused.

Data poured into the network as an avalanche would engulf those in its path but the Network was made of pure computing power it dealt with it as easily as one would clean up after a particularly large sneeze. The losses in the Tokyo theater was shocking but not particularly catastrophic. The Network lost units as easily as it replaced them. The Engels Goliaths were the real bruises considering it took much time and resources to manufacture them but like the common units, it could be replaced albeit at longer rates.

However, what interested the Network more was that once again, the humans took to the field and fought alongside their android creations.

They were simply unlike anything it had seen before. Truly, the androids never had a more deserving progenitor species. They did not disappoint the Network, not one bit. They proved that in their works of art and culture that the Network devoured, and now they proved it in the battlefield with their skillful use of their rather outdated arms. First at the desert and now, at the ruined city.

But humanity also confused the Network.

Why did the humans even go and help out their androids when clearly, logic dictated that they ought to have pulled back and let the androids take the loss. What was the point of rescuing the androids when the odds were clearly stacked against them? The Network understood that by this point, these were the last few humans left and while it wasn't exactly keen on trying to actually murder the organics considering they did need the humans alive for its own purposes. Why would they risk certain death or injury in the face of the Network's greater numbers?

And what made the androids so worthy of their creators risking much to save their expensive albeit ultimately replaceable hides?

"That is where we come in," spoke a smooth and soft voice that was velvet silk made into sound. The Network fizzled as a distinctly YoRHa styled figure suddenly appeared in the Network's consciousness. Data rolled and was processed in a millisecond as the Network gave the figure its regard.

Adam stood tall, face mature and steely, curiosity hidden behind the frame of her glasses. She didn't need it as an organic would but as she understood, glasses were a sign of intelligence according to the human records and she did crave knowledge. She had secured for herself clothes as well, form-fitting pants and a shirt that hugged her frame, an hourglass figure that even YoRHa models would die for. Her thighs were thick, her skin white as the snow on the mountains. Plump was her rear and breasts, a calamitous combination that she understood appealed to the minds of men and women. Adam still struggled with the concept of sexual dimorphism or even gender roles but she understood it that plump breasts and rears irresistible.

(Dommy Librarian is Adam, Topless Tomboy is Eve)

A/N: If wattpad takes the image down then imma try to censor it more

All she needed to do was to smother some human with them. That would surely be a interesting way of gathering data.

The Network materialized before her, adopting a form suitable for it. Before Adam stood a smaller feminine figure, hair black as a raven's and face cherubic. Unlike Adam's more busty and plump frame, the Network adopted for itself a petite one. Adam was sure that there was some symbolism here with how underdeveloped the Network's body was.

"You have a plan?" the Network asked of Adam.

"I do," the taller woman replied. "The quickest and surest way to get into the heart of a human is to find a human itself. Would vivisecting it be acceptable?"

The Network frowned. "It will end in the human's termination. Absolutely not. We did not give you your freedom to waste it on needless frivolities."

Well. That was one plan shot down. "Then, getting close to one would be better. My sister and I have been crafted these bodies designed to draw out humans. We can use this, as well as getting at the androids that protect them as well."

"What is your plan?" the Network asked again, interested.

A smile appeared on her face. "The Ruined City hosts parts of our esteemed masters, yes? Then perhaps we can go and organize a meeting between the species. Us and our masters, the androids and theirs."

The Network paused, her face scrunched in thought. "It is a viable plan but we have calculated that the humans will most likely not take further risks now. They have engaged us twice, each one riskier to them than the last. How do you plan on drawing them out?"

"They have marched to battle for the benefit of their androids, have they not? We can...invite some androids to our hospitality or even better, invite a human itself. That will be far too important for them to ignore." Adam proposed. "Cause a tremble in the Ruined City. Then, let the song of our masters free for the humans and the androids to listen to. There, they will come running. My sister and I will handle the rest."

The Network paused once again. It calculated Adam's plan quickly. Their masters hadn't been seen for quite a long time by the androids or the humans. By dangling it out on the false hope for answers, they would surely bite the bait. And once that happened, they will have fish to catch. A cheshire grin appeared on the Network's face.

"Very well. This has our approval," the Network grinned.

Adam bowed, her breasts swaying as she leaned slightly. "Then allow me and my sister to make the arrangements."

+++

The spacecraft lurched gently as it came into view of the station. As it drew closer, Damian saw androids by the brightly windows, or others in space suits undergoing a walk outside the station, all paused to look at their silver bird. He could only imagine what they might all be feeling, after so long of not seeing even a single human.

"We are now docking. Stand-by," the pilot announced.

Well. That was that then.

They were in the hangar bay, his eyes took in the sight of numerous spacecraft that varied in design. From sleek to rough and boxy. A mixmash of different styles that gave the hangar bay the appearance of it being populated. He shook again as the spacecraft turned, giving him an even greater view of the hangar and beyond. For a few gentle minutes, they floated before finally, the craft landed with another shake.

They had now arrived.

God. If only his family could see him now.

"Welcome to the Station. If you enjoyed your trip, it would be our greatest pleasure if you flew with us again," the intercom added cheekily.

That would be fine. it wasn't as if he and the others knew of other shuttle services that existed. On the other side of him, his android counterpart checked his equipment and adjusted his helm. Satisfied, Raptor turned to Damian and offered him his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, sir. But duty calls."

Damian quickly took the android's hand. "Of course. I will see you on the field again, maybe. I've always wanted to go to Europe!"

Raptor chuckled. "I know what your squad have done, sir. But please, we'd appreciate it if you would cover our rear instead."

"I can't promise you that, eh. I have a bad habit of disobeying orders," grinned Damian. He had long since put on his helmet and his face couldn't be seen by the other androids but Raptor could feel the cheekiness coming from him. The android shook his head and withdrew his hand, ordering his men to come after him. Damian watched them go, no doubt to go report to their boss. Bertha approached and stood next to him, her hands on her hips.

"Charming, ain't he?" Bertha remarked.

"Got a crush?" Damian teased.

"....Maybe. You reckon they modeled him after Orlando Bloom?" Bertha asked, her tone curious.

"Nerd," Damian shook his head. He then turned to his own men. "Alright. You know the drill. Stand fast, look pretty. If things go haywire out of a sudden, something which I doubt, then we fight our way back to this shuttle."

"Er, do you even know how to fly this?" Hummus asked, raising his hand.

"We'll improvise," Damian said. "Alright. Time to start this dog and pony show. With the Colonel now."

In his corner, Smith stood up and offered his hand to Camille. "Thank you for escorting us, Camille. You have my compliments."

Smooth hands clasped with his own. Despite the fact that he already held her hand numerous times already, she still visibly shuddered. It took awhile for them to process it, he supposed. "Of course, sir. Approach me anytime if you need anything." she beamed proudly, looking less like a military leader as her garb suggested and more of a daughter seeking approval from her father.

Smith nodded. "Of course," he said. In the back of his mind, he already was keeping her offer in account. He had no idea what sort of politics the Army of Humanity had but he was pretty sure that Camille's offers were not made simply out of a desire to serve. In his position, he had dealt with politicians and no single man or woman could thrive in those positions without some sort of plan in mind. Though in his heart, Smith hoped that the androids of this council were above the failings of their human progenitors.

She gestured to her left, and into the hallway that lead to the ramp below. He moved forward first, finding Camille's regulars and his own standing at attention at either side. The ramp had already since been lowered and his path was straight. Smith took a breath then strode forward, his armored boots echoing on the metal. And there, he saw it.

Arrayed neatly like the old legions of Rome, the androids of the Army of Humanity were arrayed. Each one, a colorful riot to the last.

The first android was clad in a colorful uniform reminiscent of a Russian general from World War One. A tan coat and fine black boots. Multiple medals were pinned to his chest, no doubt accolades he had won. On his head was a ushanka cap with the AoH insignia pinned to it. Behind him were similarly clad troopers albeit less ornate than his. His features were purely mean, weathered skin and a long moustache. His right eye was scarred, purposefully left injured. The other though was narrow, his eyes haunted by years of fighting.

The second one was clad in gear similar to what Anemone wore sans the shawl that covered her face. This android had a baseball cap, fingerless military gloves, and a olive chestplate. Far more tactical looking than the Russian styled android. Smith noted her youthful face, heart-shaped and with brown hair probably tied up in a bun under her cap. Sharp glasses hid her eyes though he felt the sharp gaze behind her glasses.

The third android sported, to his amusement, looked like if they had taken YoRHa-styled gear and placed it on a Spanish conquistador. Under a Morion helmet stood a android that had benched pressed as a life-style, a massive axe hung behind his back, some manner of engraving etched onto it. A wicked look was on his face, hidden behind a dark beard. It seemed at any second, he could break out into a jolly laugh or descend into berserker combat.

The fourth android seemed to be taken straight from Zulu fantasy with a YoRHa flair. Her skin was dark, fine lips and a fierce look on her face. A colorful head-dress stood atop a body used to running. An oval shield adorned her back, as well as a short spear.

The fifth android took one thought of India and personified it. His features were firm and exercised. He sported resistance style gear, olive-fatigues and a turban. A sword hung around his hip. An actual curved sabre. If anything, Smith figured that its plain appearance hid its actual use and it could very well be as effective as the ones YoRHa sported.

The Conquistador marched forward. As he spoke, there was a smooth accent to it. "Welcome to Station 13, sir. We have been anxious for your arrival. Allow me to introduce myself." He then took off his helmet, setting it aside and letting his long dark hair flow. "I am Tizona, Administrator for the South American continent. On behalf of the Army of Humanity, I welcome you."

"As far as I have seen, you all have done impressive work. I have yet to see most of this station though," Smith replied, nodding at Tizona.

He smiled. "And that is why we have come to greet you. At your discretion, we can begin the tour," offered Tizona.

"Let's do that," Smith nodded. And so, they started their tour. It quickly dawned on Smith that the androids pushed the envelope when it came to preparing the station. His eyes settled onto a field of green. Trees of different type dominated a field of grass, flowers and such bloomed brightly under artificial light. On the distance, he saw a river snake onto a lake, multiple barges floating above. Seeing this, his helmet hissed as he took off his helm. It was unneeded here. The androids watched him with great interest, some had even audibly gasped. Smith realized that this was the first time had seen a human face, not so unlike their own. He afforded those androids a smile and they quickly glanced away.

"The records...didn't really say exact specifics on which trees humans would find agreeable," Tizona spoke up, doing his best not to gawk at Smith. "So, we mostly got all of them. We based this park out of records of the forests of Germany. If needed, we can switch the environment to fit different climates."

"You can do that?" Smith asked aloud, impressed.

"We can. The flora and fauna here can take it. The miracles of maso are endless," Tizona said proudly. Smith took a step forward, his eyes taking in the sight before him. "Environmental controls, I presume?" asked Smith.

"Yes, sir," again nodded Tizona. "We have this recreational space, with allowances for new additions though that would have to be requested. You see that door in the distance? That leads into the living quarters."

And so they marched under the light of artificial sun, solar-foils in the sky above them. In their comms, Damian remarked.

"This feels like we're being shown around by a realtor," he joked.

"I hope the property prices aren't too much. That would kill my wallet," Bertha replied snidely.

"So, Spirt, what do you think? Just like home, eh?" Falafel asked their resident Swiss man.

A annoyed tick was his reply. "For the last time, I am Swiss, you ass. I wouldn't know what Germany is like either. I have never been there."

"You serious? I thought you'd travel and all," Falafel remarked in surprise.

"Oh, I did. Only to fun places though, like France. What is there to see in Germany?" Spirit snorted. The passed through an elaborate arch, then into a long winding hallway painted white. "Do we have to keep wearing our helmets?" He continued, tugging at his neck.

"Dog and pony show, remember?" Damian said. "I'd love to get some actual air though. My supply feels funny."

As they chatted, the android regulars watched the silent human soldiers march on, unaware of the conversation happening in their helmets. They watched in quiet awe as their progenitors walked in silence, outdated combat suits yes but still, menacing in how it looked. What sort of war...thing...did humanity fight to manufacture such equipment?

"And so, we have here a sample of what their quarters will be like," Tizona announced proudly ahead. They had now marched onto a winding and spacious hall, another river snaked in the middle, a holographic image of the earth projected by hidden projectors. Earth, as what it was before the machines, before the Legion. Smith took his eyes away from that and glanced into the room Tizona opened. He peered inside and found a fairly modest studio-type room, with a bed at the far corner and a few household amenities here and there. Beyond that, it was bare with the only item of interest being a glass window that showed space outside.

"Very spartan," remarked Smith, pulling back. Tizona's hands fell on his hips. "Well, personal items are yet to be added, sir. We thought that the people living here would appreciate decorating it themselves. Were we mistaken?"

There was a certain fear in his voice that he and the council would be met with disapproval. A dew of the androids, veterans of war, looked like sheepish children being met by a stern father. Smith dispelled that notion quickly. "No, you are correct," he said firmly. "Although I haven't seen a place where people could purchase goods. I assume that is where we are going next?"

Tizona quickly brightened and the Councillor androids breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, we have a space for commercial activities. It's still in the middle of construction however and not much shops have been opened. We intend that it be a further space for recreation and restaurants and the like."

As the officers chatted, Damian remarked to his squad. "Scratch that. Man, this is like going on a cruise."

Hummus snorted. "A cruise in space. Something I never thought I would hear."

"I thought you'd be pleased that there's a commercial space, Hummus. Capitalism and all," Falafel suggested snidely. Hummus rolled his eyes.

"Please, that is a stereotype. And for one, I don't know how to start a business when I don't know what legal tender we are even using."

"Eh, something for the officers to figure out. I just want to shoot my guns," Falafel remarked, cracking his neck.

"Typical," Hummus remarked.

"Shermuta," replied the Egyptian.

Their tour marched on. Damian's remark of the station being akin to a cruise ship being more apparent. Commercial spaces, theaters, a single functioning restaurant that served coffee for the meantime. He didn't know much regarding cruise ships but he could see that the androids did not spare a single expense in constructing the station and modifying it. He had to admit that his body felt lighter the more and more he walked. For the first time in what he could remember, he could relax.

The Old World, now a distant memory, came back to him. A world without the threat of extinction, a world where humanity warred with itself but at least, it tried its best to be at peace. He had fought with the UN for so long that he had been thinking of himself less as an American, the national identity blurred by the Legion. Funny how it took a extinction level threat to get humanity to unite, figuratively and literally. With all the talk of living quarters, cruise ships, and parks, monuments of peace, Damian felt gripped by a longing for peace, to enjoy what the station had to offer.

He could only hope that the machines could never reach or find the station.

Hopefully.

+++

Too long.

Camille had fought for the preservation and the glory of Mankind for far too long. Despite her attempts, she could always remember the day when they first arrived. The alien invaders who unleashed their hordes upon the world. She was young then, one of the few newly built androids meant to be a caretaker for what was left. And then they came and nearly drowned the world in a tide of iron.

She made friends, lost them as well. She had lovers, she lost them too. All that, countless battles of horror and war had made her and those that sat at the head of the Army of Humanity near numb to everything. Nothing was new. They had all lived it after all. The only thing left for them now was to give their lives in antonement for the androids collective failure in living up to their gods.

Mankind.

How far away they were, yet so near. Every time she glanced at a mirror, it felt like looking into a ghost of what could have been. She had long since accepted the demise of their gods. Everyone save them knew how risky Gestalt was. When the Replicants eventually formed their own consciousness, it was a numbered experiment. The Twins who oversaw the project were blamed for it but recollection and hindsight only showed that there was nothing else they could do.

Gestalt failed and humanity was forever lost, their echoes remaining in their works and in the genetic material that they all could save on the moon. Their gods were gone, the purpose of Camille's existence taken away in a blink.

Then, a miracle.

Humans. On the ground. On the planet where they had died.

Camille didn't believe it. It was simply impossible. They had all died off with Gestalt's failure.

But no.

They still lived.

Camille was looking at one of them, seated on a chair, and giving those around the conference table a smile.
Vibrant, strong, oozing with authority.
No E-drug could ever hope to compare to the rush that Camille felt, the sheer life that coursed through her veins just seeing the man across her. Her core would have jumped out of her flesh just looking at the human, exultation and praise only being held back by iron-will.

"Before we continue on, it would be best for those of this table to introduce themselves," Tizona began. "As you know, sir. I am Tizona, the councillor for the defense of South America. I mostly handle the Pacific side. From Pantagonia to Central America. The old Canal is where I am based at."
Smith nodded and turned to Camille next. She shivered at his gaze. With a practice grace, she stood up.

"As introduced, I am Camille. I am charged with the defense of Europe," she introduced. Quick, clean, and straight to the point. No frills. She then sat down, letting the one next to her talk.

"Winter," spoke up the Russian coordinator, his medals swaying as he stood. "I am in charge of Russia but my actual area of control is the Russian East, as well as East Asia. However, I promise you, sir, that I will do my best to ensure that all of Russia is reclaimed. I will not stop until our song is heard in the ancient Kremlin," he said steely and firmly.

"I am sure that the Russians in my care will be pleased. Hell, I think they'll want to go with you," Smith said jokingly. The scarred android smiled before sitting down.

"Azalea, I am accountable for Africa and the Middle-East. However, my area of Operations are centered on the Cape, East Africa, and the Suez," declared their resident Zulu. She stood high and proud, her breasts shaking slightly as she did so. A part of Camille felt that it was deliberate.

"Those feathers...I assume they are ostrich feathers?" Smith asked, glancing at her head-dress.

"They are!" Azalea said excitedly. "If you would like, I would be more than happy to show you what they are closely later?"

Certain eyes turned to the Zulu for her rather open invitation. She sat down and the Indian Coordinator spoke up.
"I am Singh, the android holding the Indian Sub-Continent and certain parts of Asia together. It is a great great honor, to meet you, sir." Singh whispered in awe, standing tall. He then unsheathed his sword, raising it aloft and yelled, "Shout aloud in ecstasy, true is the Great Timeless One!"
His chest rose and fell in exultation before finally, he sheathed his sword and sat down. Smith blinked, awkward at the greeting but replied, amused. "I'm no rockstar, son. But I am flattered," He then turned to the final android who stood up, her hair now flowing freely.

"Sir, I am January. The android councillor for North America and Mexico," she introduced herself, her hips swaying provocatively. Camille would remember that.

"I'm American," Smith revealed, his eyes looking at her from top to bottom. "Some of my men are. How's home looking like?"

January's lips turned thin. "It's...the American continents both North and South lie mostly in the Kingdom of Night, sir. Frankly speaking, the further east you go from the Western Seaboard, the higher your chances are in well...getting killed."

"Indeed," Camille interjected. "Those of us that operate in the Kingdom of Day face difficulties yes, but the Kingdom of Night is a whole new theater entirely."

"I've heard stories. I've yet to see," Smith said, turning from Camille and January. "You mind showing me what sort of stuff we are dealing with there?"

January nodded and pressed something on her chest. In the middle of the room, a holographic image formed. Then, Smith saw flames.

With outstretched wings, teeth and claws glinting as scimitars did in the night, the dragon roared in bestial rage as fire pooled first in its chest like a volcano about to erupt then, it blossomed. Scores upon scores of machine abominations and nightmares were engulfed in fire and flame. The dragon flew off, the ground left burning in its wake yet one stronger abomination yet stood. Burning brightly, it held its ground before glowing red with power. Energy pooled as a massive blast of laser fired from its mouth. Androids screamed, a male voice calling for support.

Smith leaned into his seat, watching as a tank-like vehicle floating held aloft by gravity came into view, the cannon on its turret already glowing brightly before firing into the machine.

The machine simply took it, as if it was nothing.

The recording stopped there and Smith, he unleashed a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"What the fuck was that?" he blurted out, true surprise in his tone. White and Anemone had told stories about the Kingdom of the Night.

"Dragon weapons, sir," January answered, face non-plussed. "In the year 6230, we unleashed the dragons as a form of support against the machines. We have mostly kept its use in the Kingdom of Night. The things we fight there..."

Smith did not need to be a veteran to see the horror in January's eyes. His face hardened. "It's complicated then?"

January could only nod. "Pretty much so. The West Coast is safer, relatively."

"You've all concentrated on the Pacific," Smith remarked, expecting some strategy being in place.

"Yes, sir. Most of us here are in a defensive ring on the Pacific. You see, it all begins at Hawaii," Tizona spoke up. Pressing something, the holographic image of the dragon turned to that of Earth. The planet rotated briefly before halting at the Pacific. Lines of red were drawn from Chile, to Alaska, then to Russia to the west, south to Japan and the Philippines and Polynesia. "The lines in red represent concentrated android presence all to defend Hawaii. On that island is a server that was crucial for the Machine Network. Disrupting it and controlling it ensured that the machines couldn't coordinate and direct itself well into the Indo-Pacific Region."
"Like a wifi router," Smith surmised.
Tizona nodded. "In a nutshell, yes. By controlling that router, it will make it far easier for us to protect what we can here on Earth."

"There is a question regarding Hawaii that I have been keeping in mind, Tizona," Smith said, his voice level but sharp. "Tell me. How exactly was Hawaii reclaimed?"

The androids all glanced at each other. The mood in the air turned tense, still. The proverbial forest animals became quiet as the androids sank in their seats, Smith's eyes feeling like heavy weight on their backs. No android dared to answer, save for Winter. He stood up, his chair rocking as he did.

"YoRHa androids descended onto Hawaii with the intent to disrupt the server or totally destroyed it. They succeeded. However, the androids made also had another objective unknown to them. They were made as prototypes, test-beds. From the data gathered from them, it would be analysed to prepare the way for the next generation of androids." Winter narrated, succinctly and cleanly.

"Hm. And a survivor now in my care told me that she was declared a traitor and hunted down," Smith revealed. A murmur broke out among the surrounding androids.

"She must be taken to custody immediately, sir. This android is dangerous!" January advised him, her fist slamming onto her desk. Smith gave her a look.

"And what crime did she do?" Smith asked calmly. "Refusing to be killed?"

January bit her lip, her gaze on the floor. Winter however continued to hold his head high. "At that time, the data to be gathered from those units would have been valuable. They were intended for nothing more."

"Let me understand this, Winter." Smith said, fully drawing his attention to the old general. "What do you mean by they were intended for nothing more?"

"Sixteen descended. Only that one, Unit No.2, survived. That was not intended. They were made with traits and features and tested for what was useful and what wasn't. It was debated to let that unit live on but as mentioned, her model had features that would have rendered her unstable and unreliable both on the field and off it," Winter explained, not skipping a beat. He was cold, factual, much like his name. Smith did not know what infuriated him more, his aloofness or the clinical explanation given to him. Still, he controlled his anger. Simply standing up on his seat, the scraping of his chair causing the other androids to cringe in their seats.

Winter remained standing, and looking at Smith, his finger thrust against his side of the table as he spoke. "Yet she lives, a beast in combat and a traumatized and scared wreck off the field." Smith inflected, each word making the other androids feel like they were drowning. "Not only that, there is also two other questions I wanted to breach. Why were Devola and Popola treated the way they were? And then, the lie with the Council of Humanity. White has spoken to me about both and gave me reasons. I want to hear what is yours."

Camille took a breath. She stood up, joining Winter. All eyes on the table turned to her, watching and waiting. "We needed someone to blame, sir. The loss of Gestalt...it was...it was their fault. We were lost, humanity was dead. Our gods had died. Their models, their models were the overseers. Naturally, they were blamed. So we discontinued their line, hunting down the others and leaving the ones under Colonel Anemone to be a warning for failure." Her voice was sorrowful, each word that left her mouth a cry both in bitterness and shame.

"As my colleague said, our gods had died. We...we needed a god. We needed you," Winter quivered, emotion leaking from his voice. His ice melted briefly, his fists turned into a tight ball as he looked at Smith. "Before the invaders came, my people languished in depression. We failed you. We failed humanity. We...we revered you. We revere you still. The invaders, we couldn't fight them without you. We needed your light. We needed your guidance!"

Fresh tears descended, from both his eyes. Zeal, sorrow, pain was on his gaze. "We did what we had to. We...we had no idea what to do!"

Smith shared a look at each android in the room. His eyes scanned them, and found pain. Their uniforms, their head-dress and medals and pomp, each one of it fell away, revealing who they truly were. Scared. Traumatized. Alone. He...he could grasp the reasons for their choices. The necessity. The fear. Did it excuse them for what it would have meant for those unfortunate, like White who was the executor, A2, the unfortunate victim, and the countless other androids unfortunate enough to believe in a lie?

No, it did not.

Smith fell back, a stony expression on his face. Steam left his nose, his sigh like a whole new round of cringing for the androids, unsure of what the human meant by his actions. Winter, stony and icy, cringed as well. The ice he had kept up, melted away by the apparent displeasure in Smith's face.

"A2, she is not a number anymore. She, like all of you, are all people now. Yes, you are androids, inorganic and made, but you are all people now. The time for sacrifices, for hard decisions, that is over," Smith said after a moment's thought. "I...I want to chastise you all so badly, but to chastise you after the fact would simply be needless compared to the weight you all carry."

He glanced at Winter who wiped away the tears on his face with his sleeve. The android looked down, all of them did. The weight of the sinner was a burden they could not shed. Smith continued. "No more. No more lies, no more sacrifices. The lie that humanity yet lives on the moon, that is no longer needed. The sacrifice of innocent androids for some plan, no more."

They all nodded quietly. No one wanted to contest that. Camille felt some weight in her chest leave her. Even despite the chastisement, the disappoint on Smith's eyes, she still felt warm. She yearned for the embrace of her father, of Smith. He and those that still lived were their parents, their gods. If they wished for it, demanded it even, she would do anything and everything to make it happen.

Winter, yet their unofficial spokesman, braved to speak. "How will we breach that lie? Countless generations of androids have been made, believing that humanity is on the moon. If we tell them that, it will impact morale all over. And the Twins..."

"The Twins...I want you all to meet them and apologize. Make a declaration that the Twins will no longer be subject to ridicule, and explain why. Tell them the truth, how painful it might be. As for the Moon...we will figure something out. I will also speak too, if that shall set your mind at ease. I certainly don't want you all to do the heavy lifting all the time. As I have told White, Anemone, and others, I will not have humanity's relationship with the androids be that of a master and a servant. We all will be equal, partners, allies, not that."

Shame burnt in Camille's face. The humility on Smith's face, the gentleness of his voice was like a spear strike into her core and soul.

"We would be willing servants, sir. We are made to be that, for the Glory of Mankind," Tizona whispered.

"Not to us," Smith said firmly. "Not to me."

Camille felt light, as if she were being carried to the sky. Her heart and core swelled with pride, with joy. If Smith was willing to recognize her and all of them as that...then she would follow humanity to the deepest pits of hell. A lifetime of service, of crying and living alone, and finally mankind returns for them...

However, the feelings did not last long, as each councillor was alerted as their personal communicators all phoned in as one.

Camille quickly activated hers, making sure to keep her voice steady. "This is Camille, what is it?"

The next few words that came emptied the joy in her heart, dread creeping up her spine. The same feeling she had, on that fateful day, seeing them descend came to full force.

"Power levels, ma'm! We are detecting power signatures in Tokyo!"

"Who...what is it?" she whispered.

"It's them, ma'am! It's the aliens!"

++++

+++

"Thanks, A2. You're a champ," the human praised her.

Despite herself, A2 couldn't fight the growing feeling of pleasure deep inside her core. "It....It's nothing," the stubborn android said, doing her best to glance away towards the plain gray wall next to them. The other man, his uniform denoting him to be logistics, raised an eyebrow at her reaction but nevertheless shrugged and carried on his duties, in opening the boxes A2 had volunteered to carry. Guest she might be to the UN's hospitality but she wasn't a fan of lazing around doing nothing. She needed to do something, anything, to get quiet down the growing discomfort she felt in her body.

She needed to fight. She needed to kill. Her programming demanded it.
Doing chores for the humans of the bunker wasn't exactly that but the rush of their praise was a good counter-measure.

Her growing internal discomfort was simply a part of her existence. Attacker models such as her were made to fight and beat the shit out of anyone who stood in their way. For her to go against her programming, her own very nature was starting to give her withdrawal symptoms similar to androids who hadn't touched E-Drugs for awhile.

She strode off from the storage room, fingers inwardly fiddling under her coat. Dr Naoka had insisted that she walk with clothes on and had even offered some of her own for A2 to wear, similarly sized as they were. With boots and a long trench-coat, A2 didn't look to dissimilar to a young woman going out for a stroll on a cold day. Her steps echoed against the hallway walls. Memories often came to her of the Bunker, YoRHa's bastion in the sky. It was similar to it in some ways particularly in how cold it was. She often wondered what the hell was the point in androids like her given the ability to feel things such as heat or cold. If they really were just androids then surely, they ought to have been treated as tools, right?

But...despite the obvious fact she was not a human, she was given nothing but unending kindness.

That thank you from the logistician. The clothes she was now sporting.

A2 did not get it. Was she meant to be a weapon or not?

Humans were so damn confusing.

The attacker model eventually left the hallway and found herself onto a entrance hall of sorts. Even now, A2 still found new areas to explore of the bunker previously untouched. Of course, there was still places she couldn't enter due to her lack of clearance but it only meant there was more she couldn't see. The Entrance Hall was decorated sparsely, a few chairs for lounging here and there. A2 found that she wasn't alone however, a few men and women were around chatting. By their attire, A2 realized that they were Resistance members.

A2 placed a wide berth between herself and them, intent on passing them by. Her relationship with the Resistance wasn't hostile per se. They never had orders to apprehend or kill her but she did steal from them on occasion. There were just some items she simply couldn't get in the wild. While she hadn't actually killed anyone during those attempts, she had hurt some of their regulars. Here, they mostly ignored each other. Some dirty looks were thrown her way but the driver she, Damian, and that bint 2B had saved told his mates what they had done so there was some saving grace.

She was about to leave the room and enter a new one when suddenly, some doors opened and in came a ragged Resistance man. He scanned the room before his eyes settled on his fellow troopers. "All of you, with me now! There's a radio broadcast happening!"

The resistance troopers immediately dropped their conversation, rising to their feet as they followed after their apparent superior. The man also turned to see A2 standing by. Some recognition flashed on his eyes before he shook his head. "You, Miss YoRHa. You definitely should come too."

An annoyed tick came on A2's features. Already anxious with herself, there was this butterbar giving her lip. Who was this prick to command her? "I'm not with YoRHa, asshole," A2 bit back. "Am I wearing their mascot dresses?"

"Suit yourself, lady. There's just an announcement on the radio. Aliens or something," the man shrugged his shoulders, not entirely entertaining her outburst. He turned on his heels, running off. A2 blinked at that.

Aliens?

Her heels immediately went to work, running after the butterbar. He had already long since left into another bigger room where a crowd had been gathered. A mixture of YoRHa, resistance, and human personnel. Each one of whom were crowding around a pod projecting something. A2 pushed through, some dirty looks sent her way but she managed to get close enough to hear what was being projected.

"...it's massive!" came the voice of a woman. It was from the projection, A2 saw. The screen shifted, the camera angle showing...it.

For the first time since forever, A2 and the androids saw a cylindrical tower newly arose among the ruins of old Tokyo. It's frame was jetblack and of a kind A2 had never seen before. Dust and ashy smoke had also been brought up, obscuring further observations on the object but she swore she could see outlines of windows. Gasps left their mouths as the tower pulsed with life, power coursed through lines. The android streamer panicked, her voice shaky and breathy.

"It's powering up! Jono, what's the readings like?" she asked an android off-camera.

"Off the charts, Sylf! My meter's breaking!" came a rough voice. The camera turned to the side as three pairs of YoRHa flyers zoomed past them. Even for a brief second, A2 could recognize that it was the boyscout 9S and his cheerleader superior, 2B. The last one, she couldn't recall. What was important to her now was the three undergoung a circular pattern around the tower, their flyers mecha-shifting as they surrounded the thing.

For what seemed an eternity, no one made a sound as they watched the tower lighten up then power down just as quickly as it appeared. Soon, it looked more like a ruined husk like the buildings around it. "Looks like...YoRHa has this," the streamer voiced out, shakily standing up. The camera zoomed as the three flyers descended, the occupants leaping out to investigate the thing.

"What...what is that?" someone whispered from among their group. But there already was an answer to that, an answer that they all knew deep in their hearts.

"The invaders...the aliens," a voice replied back. A2 did not know who said that either but that dreadful hidden fear was made manifest. The hidden masters of the Machine Network now out in full view, an eyesore amidst the sacred and sacrosanct remains of what was once one of humanity's greatest cities. Despite herself, despite her inner reservations and bitterness, A2 felt the fear and the dread, like many here. But there was also something else.

A deep boiling rage that could only come from a place of pure hatred.

The invaders masters were now here.

And she was going to take her sword and stick it up their stupid, alien asses.

+++

"You want to what?"

Her cheeks flushed. Taking a breath, A2 tried again. "The aliens, the ones who hold the Machine Network on a leash, they've resurfaced. I want to go back to the Ruined City and kill as many as I can."

Naoka who had been lounging behind her desk and with a tablet in hand lowered her glasses slightly to glance up at A2, awkwardly trying to find the best way to present herself before the doctor. "Well...if that is what you wish to do, you are more than welcome to do it. You are no prisoner here."

A2's lips were about to open up frantic knocks came upon Naoka's door. The good doctor looked up to see that her team was standing outside, their faces all but telling her about what they were going to say. "Doctor! Have you heard?" one of them asked excitedly.

"No, Maxwell, I have been keeping my face in the sand," Naoka replied, shaking her head. "It's the aliens, I assume?"

The man walked in, beaming. He was young, with brown hair and glasses. His face looked soft, like a cherub. "Yup! So, what are our plans for that?"

Naoka took off her glasses, leaning back. She paused, regaling her protege with a simple look. "For now? Nothing?"

Maxwell's face fell. "Nothing?" he said aloud, disbelief on his face.

"Nothing," Naoka repeated herself, annoyed that she has to. "One, that site is probably crawling with machines and I am not going to approve any incursions into that thing unless I know for certain that tower is safe and secure. Two, we can only leave this bunker if the Colonel himself says we can. The Colonel is currently not here and he himself has said that operations are grounded on the meantime so we will have no escorts."

"But...the alien ship? It's an alien ship, Dr Naoka. An alien ship," Maxwell stressed. "Don't you want to look at it? Poke it?"

"In time. But not now. It is far too dangerous. Let YoRHa and the Resistance clean the enemy from the area first then, I will approve." Naoka sighed. "I won't be going there with you all however,"

"Why not?"

Naoka looked at him as if he grew a second head. "Because, my dear Maxwell, my parents lived in Tokyo." She revealed, letting the implication hand over their heads. Understanding and pity came upon Maxwell, as well as sheepishness.

"Oh...shit...uh...sorry. I'll uh, see myself out," Maxwell apologized, leaving out Naoka's door alongside his fellow scientists. Awkwardly, the young doctor left, leaving the both of them there. Naoka turned back to A2. "So, is there anything you need from me, A2-san?"

"Uh, no. I'll be going now, Doctor," A2 offered, moving to leave. But then, she paused, Naoka's words played in her head. "Your parents...they died at...the city?" A2 asked carefully. She had no idea what the fuck she was doing, only that it felt right. She turned back to Naoka who was now leaning against her desk, head resting on clasped hands.

"Yes," Naoka said simply, her face stony as ever. But there was a undercurrent look of grief there. A feeling A2 knew too well. Her hands softened as she leaned back on her chair. "White Chlorination Syndrome. Among the very first. I was with a United Nations humanitarian mission away from Japan when it all happened."

A2's face fell.

She hated the Machines and the Alien fucks that made them. But hearing this, alongside other stories of the Legion made her wish to go back in time and tear them apart. Her brows furrowed, darkness coming onto her face. This expression Naoka did not miss who chuckled bitterly at A2's anger. This reaction stupefied A2.

"It's pointless to be angry at something so long ago. The Legion is long gone, A2. Only memories remain of it and my parents. The only thing I can do now is hold on to what happy memories I have, and move on," Naoka explained. "Holding on to the past so fervently, it's also going to hold me back too."

"But...remembering them...?" Her squad, did they not deserve to be remembered?

"It's important, yes. But not so much, your entire personality revolves around it. What would have made my mother and father happier, having me be so angry and bitter at their loss I close off from the world or having me live the life they didn't get to?" Naoka whispered, lifting up her hand high, her eyes trailing on it.

A2 said nothing, Naoka's words hanging in the air. Was that really alright...? What would her squad have wanted for her?

"No.2, live!"

Her fists tightened.

"So, what are you waiting for? You have an alien ship to massacre, correct?" Naoka called out, lips curled in a smile.

"Uh, yeah. I do," A2 replied, blinking.

"Can you manage though? I thought you needed repairs?" Naoka asked, looking her over.

"I can. I've been in worse fights than this. And what are a bunch of aliens going to do to someone like me?" A2 said confidently.

"If you are so confident on this, very well." Naoka nodded, her hand reaching for her tablet when she stopped as A2 began unbuttoning the coat on her.

"What are you doing?" Naoka asked, face still.

"Returning your coat?" A2 offered. Comfy as it was, the coat was just going to get in the way of battle. Naoka gave the android a long look before shaking her head. "Keep it. It's yours now. You don't have any clothes, right?"

"I don't need them," A2 insisted.

"Well, it is a gift. A gift from me to you. I assume no one has given you anything for awhile, right?" Naoka gently asked.

"Uh...um...yeah." A2 said sheepishly, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Naoka tittered. "Well, that's changed. Try not to damage it too much, alright?"

A2 nodded, turning to leave Naoka's office. She stepped out, closing the door behind her. It was going to be a hike but she could manage. She always had. But before she could leave the door, a voice spoke up from next to her.

"Hey, you're that YoRHa android right? Gonna leave for the city?" asked Doctor Maxwell, glasses glinting in the light.

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