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As soon as the Twins arrived, they were a terrible tempest that would make even the hardest stones break.

Subroutines and programming long bereft activated inside their synthetic minds. The Devola and Popola line were a unique breed of android, designed entirely for maintenance and administration. They didn't have much opportunities to actually do what they were made for due to...reasons but now, here they were in their element. Devola and Popola split their work, with Devola handling the line work and making sure that each cryogenics pod was working and healthy while Popola stayed in what was the Overseer's room, keeping in touch with Anemone who directed the efforts of the Resistance and with Commander White who oversaw the movement of YoRHa forces in the desert.

Above ground, the Resistance made sure that the Bunker wouldn't be interrupted by any machine. The greatest protection that their creators could have right now was secrecy. It had worked these past thousand years and it will continue to work even now. Why fix what wasn't broke, or so that human saying went, Popola mused.

She sat comfortably on the Overseer's table, typing away at a computer terminal that for some reason, still managed to work. She was amazed at how the thing still sputtered to life in a low whine, showing off the logo of some company that made it. Microsoft....that name felt familiar to her for some reason. But she didn't dwell on that too long, there were humans to take care of.

For a thousand year old facility, it never really aged a day. The only possible explanation that she could think of was that this place was kept in stasis by the Maso Generators. Maso being a mystical element that could be manipulated to harness energy from other worlds. By the simplest definition, it was magic.

She had other theories to how this could be possible but she didn't really have time to explore on them without further examination. For now, she would have to content herself to the Maso theory. After all, it made the most sense. Most of the world was held in place and kept alive by maso. The planet was tidally-locked which would have spelt the end for it. However, the magic that had sent their creators to their doom was now also keeping their home alive.

Talk about irony.

Her communicator rang noisily. She glanced at it and saw that Devola was calling her. She picked it up, speaking. "Sis?"

In the other end, Devola sighed in relief as she sat back, sweat dripping down her brow as she sat back. Across her, the Maso Generator had an electronic meter showcasing its health. From a abnormally and dangerous red, it now blinked a healthy Green. She marvelled at its construction, a healthy fusion of magic and technology. A nuclear core with a maso generator keeping everything in place. While a tad primitive compared to the standard of her century, it was nevertheless impressive in its construction and arcaneness. "Whatever jury-rigging Jackass did, it worked to save this thing. A little bit more and...we'll...."

Popola's silence spoke her discomfort. She later added. "Good thing it didn't happen then,"

She wiped her brow again. "Make sure to tell Anemone that we don't have a Damocles over us now. The only thing we have to do now is wait until the Army of Humanity can get those transports ready." Devola stretched, pale-white skin glistening amidst the low blue light of the generator room. Her fiery red hair, she had tied into a pony-tail. She needed to focus on her work and having her hair stand on her shoulders made it difficult to focus.

She then continued. "So, what else have you found? Any other thing we gotta know about this place?"

"This was a project done by the old human United Nations whose members found Project Gestalt to be...esoteric," explained Popola as she typed into her keyboard and glanced at the files.

"And isn't freezing people esoteric too?" asked Devola as she slung her toolbox around her shoulder. She turned to leave the generator room and rejoin her sister.

"Between choosing to split your soul or freezing yourself for a indefinite amount of time, which one would you choose as a human?" Popola asked wryly.

"Fair enough," Devola shrugged her shoulders.

And so they worked dutifully and quietly. The rest of the other androids had made the bunker both inside and outside into a veritable fortress. Hidden fighting positions were dug outside of the bunker, built into the sands and with quiet care. Mines were planted in the night and YoRHa had loaned one of its satellites to provide the Resistance live-actionable data. Inside the bunker however, only the most trusted of Resistance androids were allowed to staff the facility. And by trusted, it wasn't just the androids Anemone found to be the most effective fighters but also those that could control themselves in the presence of their creators.

One of the androids that she had brought along was caught staring into one of the pods. And by that, she had planted her face directly on the glass pane that showed who was inside. She was hauled away, protesting that she only wanted to see the humans. Her reasons were understandable but still, she could have broken the glass. Who knew what could have happened?

It was well into the third day that the facility found itself additional guardians.

Anemone stood outside the bunker's entrance, a pair of her Resistance androids flanking her. They eyed the skies, and onto a series of black dots rapidly streaming into their position. Anemone had alternated between staying in the Resistance camp to coordinate and be at the site herself. Today, she had arrived with fresh supplies when White contacted her about the protection she promised.

The lateness of YoRHa was explained thusly. She had to pull units she could absolutely trust which was frankly, fair enough.

"There's YoRHa," one of her aides commented as the YoRHa flying unit came into view. The YoRHa flying units were slick and sleek, absolutely advanced and costed the Army of Humanity a lot of digits to build and maintain.

They descended gracefully a fair distance away from where Anemone stood. Sand and dust picked up as the flyers touched down. With a hiss, their pilots stepped off their units.

Six blindfolded and black-dressed women stood before Anemone. Compared to the rough appearance of the Resistance androids, these YoRHa androids were absolutely gorgeous, built to be more robust, advanced, and better than anything the Army of Humanity fielded. If the Resistance were made to be iron then the YoRHa androids were made to be steel.

They all saluted her at once, in respect to her rank in the hierarchy. "Colonel Anemone, I am 1D, commanding YoRHa units 7E, 12H, 11B, 4B, and 2B reporting. Glory to Mankind!"

"Glory to Mankind!" Her YoRHa units echoed.

Anemone nodded. "You've been informed of your mission?"

"Yes ma'm," 1D nodded. "Protect a high-value location vital for the Army of Humanity."

"And that is all White told you?" Anemone asked with a raised eyebrow. Her lips turned thin when 1D nodded. Anemone figured White expected her to fill in the rest for the YoRHa squad.

"Very well. I'll go get you all settled inside." Anemone said. The YoRHa squad dutifully nodded and followed after Anemone. The great entrance to the bunker groaned as it opened. They entered through and the doors closed afterwards. Compared to the time Anemone went in, they had fully restored the facility to life. It was made as sterile as the could, short of dousing the walls in fire. Androids saluted her as she passed. She was no Commander White but she still had presence.

"Now, Commander White hadn't told you what you are protecting. It will be best to show you all what it is," Anemone said. Jackass had told her she should make this as grandiose as possible. She rolled her eyes at that.
The reveal of this made up for the ceremony. They turned into a room that led onto a walkway that illuminated a wider chamber.

"Look down, onto the pods below," Anemone invited them. Lifting a curious eyebrow, 1D and her girls did so.
12 H audibly gasped.

"Are those....?" 1D asked, her eyes widening.

"Do you understand the importance of your mission now?" Anemone asked.

"Yes, ma'm!"

It was then, Anemone's communicator rang noisily in her pocket. She reached for it and brought it to her ear. Devola's panicked voice registered. "Anemone! We have a problem! Get to the Overseer's office pronto!"

At that, Anemone hurriedly made her way to it. 1D confusingly followed behind but not before ordering her girls to take up positions inside the complex. In the Overseer's Office, Popola was rapidly typing onto the keyboard, Devola standing behind her and offering what support she could. Anemone walked in, taking note of the panic in their eyes.

"What's wrong? Is it there a problem?" she asked.

"It's one of the Pods, Anemone," Popola said, sparing her a moment's glance before turning back to the computer. She continued. "It's having errors."

Those words made Anemone feel like she was being held over a gaping pit. Swallowing that feeling down, Anemone took her place by the Twins and peered onto the computer they were attending. It showed a full list of all the pods inside the complex but one of those particular pods had a worryingly red warning text over it.

"What sort of error?" Anemone asked, her voice demanding clarification.

"It...the system is forcing one of the pods to open up. I tried stopping it but the system was adamant. It's refused my programming attempts because I don't have Administrative authority over it," Popola explained. She exchanged a look with Anemone. "One of the humans is waking up before the others."

That sentence made that gaping pit in her stomach expand. It felt like she was doing something wrong but it felt just right. Swallowing something in her throat, Anemone nodded. "We'll prepare the welcome wagon. Devola, Popola. I need you with me. Some of those girls from YoRHa too."

And below the walkway, there was a hissing sound as metal unmoved in time groaned. Great doors opened and air filtered inside the box.

Inside the box, Smith awoke.

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Smith woke up.

Immediately, the feeling of air rushing into his lungs surged through his body. He gasped for breath, cryogenic particles expelling from his nose in a form of yellow-green snot. It was a nasty thing but a necessary one lest his lungs suffer from the effects of being frozen like a popsicle. Conscious thought was slow but it would register.

"Sir! Sir! Are you alright?" A pair of rushing voices echoed in his ears as his conscious self settled. His eyes settled finally to see...a pair of red-haired women and some other figures he couldn't quite makeout yet in his fugue state.
A response was going to come from his mouth but instead, he started coughing as his body forced out the gel from his body.

"Water," he croaked, feeling the last of the freezer gel leave him. One of the figures, clad in a gothic lolita dress of all things, shakily offered him a canteen. He accepted it, muttering thanks under his breath and drank. The figures, now female to his view, looked as if she was given a gift by santa himself. He gulped it down greedily as his throat was parched after not having water for so long.

With his thirst quenched, he offered the canteen back to the same woman and took a breath. "Report," He said simply, his voice authoritative and full of a lifetime's worth of experience. "And towel,"

Before one went inside the cryo pod, it was necessary to strip naked as clothing often stuck on someone's skin. He was quite stripped down to his bare cheeks. His body was finely aged and experienced, scars from humanity's wars against itself and the Legion present on white skin. Another one of the those gothic lolita woman stepped up and gave him a towel to wrap around himself.

Immediately, the gothic lolita women and the redheads stood at attention, pretending not to gawk and stare at him. The shaggier haired one of the two redheads spoke up. "Uh...cryo facility is at 100% status, sir. Maso Generators are green."

That was good. No, it was absolutely fantastic. Some good news at least. Taking a breath, he spoke up. "Alright. Project Iceman begins next phase. Contact Ark Prime and tell them Outpost 3 is...."

He stopped speaking when he saw the confused look in their eyes. Well, the redheads and lone woman in ethnic head-dress. The gothic lolita women had blindfolds around them. It took only a few minutes for him to register everything. "You aren't UN personnel, aren't you?"

The woman in ethnic head-dress shook her head. "No sir. I am Colonel Anemone, Tokyo Resistance Cell of the Army of Humanity. The two women with red hair are Devola and Popola, associates of mine."

"Captain 1D, of YoRHa, Glory to Mankind!" The gothic lolita that gave him water earlier yelled enthusiastically, ending with a great cry echoed by the others in the room.

Smith gave them a cursory look. They were all and each of them stunningly beautiful women, with those blindfolded girls even more stunning than the last. But there was something about them that just felt off. And Smith was going to find out. "Colonel Smith, United Nations Peacekeeping Forces. Colonel Anemone, a word in the Overseer's office, please."

"Yes, sir." Anemone nodded, her expression muted.

"And someone get me some clothes, please."

Later in the Overseer's room, and in actual clothes that the women had prepared, Smith sat behind the Overseer's desk, his eyes firmly on the computer screen in front of him. The air was cool thanks to the in-built cooling system of the facility and the lights were thankfully on. He was rather surprised that everything held up well, considering how the Maso Nuclear Energy Device that powered the facility was still standing and for how long. The computer had told him everything he needed to know.

The year was 11,1945 A.D.

Eleven thousand years into the future.

A series of questions plagued his mind. Who were those women from earlier? By their presence, it indicated that the situation on the outside had settled. Was WCS fully gone and died off as the founders of Iceman theorized? Was the world safe? He would get his answers as Anemone knocked on the entrance to the overseer's office. He bid her to enter and she did, followed by Devola and Popola, as well as 1D.

"I will ask the questions first," Smith said, leaning on the table. "Who are you? What happened to the world outside? Is WCS gone?"

Anemone spoke up for the group. "We are all members of the Army of Humanity, Colonel. 1D over there is with YoRHa, our special forces. We found this place on accident when one of my subordinates stumbled upon it. As for the WCS,"

Devola and Popola took the stage, with Popola speaking up. "The Army of Humanity has successfully purged White Chlorination Syndrome from the planet. It is free to be inhabited by humanity again...although..."

Smith was elated at the news that WCS was now gone. It simply meant he and the people here can go and make Earth habitable again. He had no idea of what the Army of Humanity was or what YoRHa was but he recognized a military force when he saw one. As he listened to Popola speak, he noticed the look on her face. It was the look of someone who had something to say but didn't know how to say it.

"Speak up, girl," Smith said in the most gentle way he can. As a military man, he had a rather brusque way of getting answers out of people but now wasn't exactly the time to demand things from a scared looking girl of all things.

"The surface is dangerous for humans to settle, sir," 1D interjected with authority, seeing Popola's hesitance. The fourty-year old turned to 1D and bid her to clarify.

"On the year 5012 AD, alien invaders appeared in our Solar System and landed in the planet. While they have hidden themselves somewhere, they have unleashed legions upon legions of machine lifeforms that have overtaken most of the Planet. The Army of Humanity was formed to fight them. Under the leadership of the Council of Humanity, we have been fighting the aliens for at least thirteen wars." 1D explained. When she was over, the women looked downcast, as if ashamed about something. Smith realized that this shame came from the fact that they fought thirteen wars and still had no progress.

Smith sat quietly, taking the information in slowly.

Alien invaders. Machine lifeforms.

This was...getting difficult to take in.

Anemone saw the conflict on his face and confirmed what 1D said. "Captain 1D is correct, sir. My androids and I have been fighting for a long time. Far...far too long."

Smith had fought in the Gulf. He fought in the small wars that were being propped up in the years after. He was there in the Gulf again for Operation Iraqi Freedom. Then the incident at Shinjuku and the years of pain afterwards. He knew the look of someone who had seen war, as much as him. And all of those women had it.

His train of thought paused. "Androids? You aren't humans?"

For some reason, the women began to look bashful, as if pleased by something. Anemone herself had a small smile on her face. "No sir. All of us in here are not human women. We are androids, made in the image of humanity."

Colonel Smith took this information in.

Androids.

"We can show you proof, if you would like," Anemone offered.

"Show me," Smith accepted. At that, Devola went forward to his side. Smith turned the chair he was on to face her as Devola knelt before him.

"Humans have a pulse, androids do not," Devola explained as she offered herself to Smith. She held his hand and guided him on places to touch. She was warm, incredibly so, and human-like. But there was something wrong. She felt metallic in places and as Devola explained, she had no pulse. She then guided his hand on her chest where there should be a heartbeat.

There wasn't.

"You feel so warm. So alive." Smith whispered in awe.

"We are made to be as human as possible," Devola answered back, her voice a soft whisper that sounded like music to his ears. It was at that moment Smith realized how long it was since he had touched someone. His throat felt dry all of a sudden as he glanced at the gorgeous redhead before him. How her eyes shone in such a way one could interpret as worshipful, how her clothes complimented her hour-glass figure, how her chest seemed to rise and fall with each breath she took.

How her lips curled slightly as she saw him look down on her, and how she leant forward slightly to give him a better look on her chest.

Smith swallowed that feeling in his throat as he pulled back, his mind forcing him to return to the professionalism he had earlier. Devola frowned slightly, as if she was disappointed he stopped looking. As Smith made to look at the other androids, he could swear that they glared at Devola with a furious intense glare he could swear was jealousy. He cleared his breath, getting them all back to speed.

"Alright. Androids. Aliens. Killer Machines." He said, rubbing his temples. "Are there other UN sites around? What is the status of Project Gestalt? The Hamelin Organization made wild claims on how it was going to be successful."

When he opened his eyes, the atmosphere in the room changed. Devola and Popola....they looked heartbroken.

"Project Gestalt..." Anemone started, her voice cracking.

Popola spoke up, her voice pained and filled with somber regret. "In the year 3361, one of the Gestalts rebelled and caused the project to fail. My sister and I were part of the android models responsible in overseeing the project. We failed to stop that Gestalt. The Program was cancelled after and the Replicants died off one by one. We...we failed and almost caused the extinction of humanity."

A heavy choking aura filled the room as Devola and Popola glanced down at the floor, sheer failure in their eyes.

"We're...sorry, sir." The Twins whispered softly. Anemone and 1D gave them a wide berth.

Smith listened quietly.

"A few questions," the Colonel spoke up. The Twins looked up at him.

He continued. "What happened to your android line? And were you two the actual Devola and Popola models responsible overseeing it?"

"The...The Army of Humanity discontinued producing us and the rest were destroyed." Devola answered, a bit more talkative than Popola at the moment.

"And you two weren't?" Smith said with a raised eyebrow.

Devola shook her head.

"And why weren't you?" Smith asked.

At that, Anemone answered for them. "The reason for these Devola and Popola androids not getting axed was to remind the other android lines what failure meant, and to not be like them."

"So essentially, scapegoats and a means to project frustration on?" Smith surmised, putting together what was being unsaid through the lines.

"Y-yes," Popola answered, looking up at him.

Smith leaned back, his lips thin. If the Army of Humanity really wanted to punish them then the two should have been destroyed with the rest. To simply keep them around as an object of ridicule and hatred was just needlessly cruel. He personally felt conflicted. As much as the Hamelin Organization peacocked Gestaltlization to the masses, there was also many who found it insane. Separating the soul from the body? Why not simply go underground and let the WCS run its course. Surely, it would end one day wouldn't it?

He took a breath. "When the process of turning people into Gestalts was introduced, many also found it insane and disagreed. This facility now is a sample of their disagreement. Many knew the risks of it. It's...it tastes bitter to be proven correct in the end."

Smith stood up from his chair and rounded the table towards the Twins. The two looked down, perhaps thinking he was going to punish them for causing the Project to fail. He had different ideas. "You two still did not answer my question. Were you the two models who failed to keep the Project afloat?"

Devola, the braver one, glanced up at him. "No. We weren't."

Popola spoke up, encouraged by her sister. "We were in a different region, overseeing a different village."

Smith stood ram-rod straight in front of them, his hands clasped behind his back. "Then, you two aren't the ones at fault here. What happened to the original ones?"

"They perished in the project, sir." Devola filed him in. Smith nodded at that.

"Then you two are blameless. I don't know what the logic is in putting you two at fault here but it ain't your fault. This is like condemning the Austrians as savages simply because Hitler was born as one of them. You two may be part of the same model but it is not your sin. You two did nothing wrong. Do you understand me?"

"S-sir?" Popola whispered.

"I asked you if you understood me, girl. Do you?" Smith asked again.

"We-....." Devola stammered.

He walked in and brought the two in a hug. A big and warm embrace. Smith didn't know why he did it. But only that it felt right. At just like that, the dam broke. Tears unending sprang free from the twin's eyes. Droplets of water and emotion going down their pale cheeks. Sobbing freely and openly, Devola and Popola let go of their burden and sins as they walked closer and onto Smith's chest. Wrapping their own hands around him, they cried as a greiving daughter would yearning for the assurance of their father. They cried and and cried, the pain of a hundred lived lifetimes of hatred being bandaged by a single touch.

From the side, Anemone and 1D watched the human comfort the two androids. 1D watched with unrestrained jealousy. Anemone could see her fists tighten into a ball and if need be, her nails could dig into her own palms. Anemone too was jealous. Which self respecting android would not feel such after living for so long bereft of a human's touch, their creator's touch?

But she was old enough to conduct herself better. She also knew the twins and their sturggle, and saw how the rest of her kind treated them poorly.

She felt at this moment that among all of them, the two deserved it the most.

Smith let the embrace go on for as long as the two wanted it. He rubbed their heads gently and softly, letting them go and take in this moment. Finally, they pulled back. Tears were still in their eyes but smiles too.

"T-Thank you, sir," Popola whispered.

"S-Sorry, for, the. uh....hug." Devola added bashfully.

Smith smiled at them. "Don't worry, girls . You two needed it. And besides, this outpost is here and someone mentioned a Council of Humanity? We ain't going anywhere."

At that, 1D found her moment to shine. Amongst all the androids here, she and her YoRHa girls were the closest to the Council, technically speaking. "Yes, sir. The Council of Humanity are the humans that escaped the planet when the alien invaders arrived. They are in the moon currently, making sure that the fight continues."

To Smith, this was among a series of massive facts that made him snort inwardly. What next, giant snakes? "I see. Well then, I assume they're the surviving human authority at this time? I would like to meet them."

1D smiled. "Aye, sir. Commander White is currently speaking with the rest of the Council in the hopes of getting you all off-world. Staying in the planet isn't safe for the moment. The sooner we get you and the rest of the humans of the facility out, the better our situation over all,"

"I see..." Smith said, glancing at Anemone who noticed his staring and straightened herself out a little. For some reason, Smith swore Anemone was trying her best to show off her bust to him under that jacket of hers.

Smith then added. "Well, I would appreciate being able to talk with the Council. There are things that I have to tell them for their ears only,"

"Understood, sir. I will make the arrangements." 1D swore.

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