Chapter Text
'Commander Thoth insists that any landing one can walk away from is a good landing. I strongly disagree. Commander Thoth has never experienced a landing where one walks away with only half his androids, half his war material and half an arm. Commander Thoth has never experienced a single landing before.'
-Captain Thermite, Khēmia station Resistance contingent, Eighth Machine War, 11626 AD.
Fleur
She wasn't listening. She was sure it was a fine speech, one that would motivate her brothers and sisters in arms for what's to come. Commander Marigold had trained Angsana well in speechcraft, but she couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in that moment. Instead, she stared dumbly as the hooded figure of Captain Angsana shouted and gesticulated atop the rusting hulk of an ancient car, the approving hollers of her fellow Fleurans failed to pry her from her thoughts.
'I should be dead.'
She processed for the upteenth time today. The tall gynoid soldier stood motionless among her comrades, the sounds of cheering barely penetrated the dark cloud that hung over her. Her blue eyes remained unfocused, unseeing.
'I should be dead.'
Unbidden images of this morning's events chose that moment to assault her mind. A tearful departure from the warmth of Fleur. Her first time on Aspis station. Beautiful, carved marble statues and pillars among equally statuesque Aspisians. A grand parade and a rousing ceremony filled with well wishes and eager anticipation. The open cargo ramp of the mass lander promised adventure and fulfilment of purpose.
'I should be dead.'
The sounds of cheerful banter interrupted by the horrid, reverberating screech of rending steel from a lower deck. The howl of escaping air intermingled with panicked shouts and a wailing siren. Shuddering booms felt deep in her core as the pilot triggered powerful maneuvering engines. Being violently wrenched around in her crash seat, arms gripped tightly onto her harness.
Squawked reports of fire in the cargo bay. Fire on all decks. Fire in the co*ckpit. Engine failure. Hull breach. Flashing lights.
Foul, acrid smoke.
'I should be dead.'
Private Basil staring wide-eyed at the jagged metal impaling his chest, the piece of the hull was hurled through their compartment when the lander fell into a flat spin after hitting atmo. Corporal Ixia next to her with eyes screwed shut, shoulders shaking while her trembling lips stammered something she could not hear over the howling wind. She remembered holding her hand and sharing one last glance...before Ixia was swallowed by a pillar of crimson light, leaving behind a severed hand... still clutched in her own.
Lieutenant Rose of the Fleuran Resistance Battalion dry-heaved at the memory, her hunched form went unnoticed among her cheering comrades. The AK-style rifle clattered onto the grass, its strap slipping off her shoulder as she doubled over in agony. A warning message of stress to her backup bioreactor blinked in her vision like an annoying gnat.
There was nothing left in her to throw up anymore. Her most recent meal of scented rice cakes made by her two fiery-haired aunties were already long gone. She had regurgitated what was left of the farewell food onto the ancient rubble of Tangshan city, after clawing her way out of the burning wreckage that was meant to be her pyre.
Ixia's final moments kept replaying in her head as she stared at the ground, her labored gasps for air lost in the roaring climax of Angsana's rallying speech. She had not known her well, yet her face was hauntingly vivid.
'What had Ixia been muttering? Was she praying? To whom?'
Rose felt an arm slip under her right armpit and was hauled up non too gently. In her daze, she barely realized that Private Gerbera had come to her side.
"Come on, get up, lieutenant." The shorter gynoid whispered gruffly into her ear, coaxing her to stand. "Don't let the others see you like this."
On her left, Corporal Margaret wordlessly picked up the discarded weapon and pushed it into her trembling arms with a worried scowl. Rose shakily nodded her thanks to her battle sisters as she struggled to stand upright.
'Were you praying to Humanity, Ixia? The Creators that we've been made to serve yet have never met?'
Rose shuddered at the thought, clutching the offered weapon tightly to her person like some sort of support.
Androids were programmed to adore Mankind. Rose didn't need to be a year old just to recognize that fact, for she too held that same love for the Creators since her activation. Thus, it had been unsurprising to find that a small, but not insignificant fraction, of android society have come to find a semblance of religion borne of that love. And who could blame them, when the object of their adoration was illusive, mysterious and forever sequestered from their sight. The worship of Mankind was not officially sanctioned by the Council, but it was not discouraged among the androids either.
Ixia, was one such android who had 'found God', so to speak. A rare minority on the Fleur.
'Of course she was, silly little Rose. After all, you were praying too.' Her own mind answered with a snide voice. 'Except...you weren't praying to Humanity now, were you?'
'You were praying to someone else...You heretic.'
The sick feeling in her gut worsened at that, her systems hitched as she felt faint, almost tipping over.
"Woah there!" Gerbera exclaimed as she fought against the larger gynoid's weight, stopping her from face-planting into the ancient asphalt. Margaret quickly stepped in front to support her by her shoulders, quickly sharing a worried glance with her compatriot.
Seeing the concerned look on Margaret's face, she forced a faltering smile on her own.
"...I'm fine, girls. R-really."
"Right..." Margaret muttered softly, thoroughly unconvinced and deeply concerned. She lowered herself a little, tilting her head to inspect the weary lieutenant. "...Why'd you have to go and board that lander on your own this morning, big girl? Could've just stuck with us..."
The blue-eyed Resistance soldier weakly shook her head in response and glanced around herself from under her raven bangs. At some point, the captain's speech had ended with a gathered cheer of 'Glory to Mankind', and the detachment of a hundred android fighters around them began their long march towards their first ground mission in the War. A few of their passing comrades threw concerned glances at them as they marched by, only to be shooed away by Gerbera's scathing look .
"...I'm an officer," she weakly swallowed, voice faltering. "...h-had orders."
"Yeah, well, those orders nearly got you killed." Gerbera scoffed and tightened her hold around Rose's arm. "We thought you were dead when we heard reports of your lander going down... Gave the other girls quite the scare. You should have seen Lily..."
"Oh..." She managed.
'Why did you die instead of me, Ixia? Why did your prayers go unanswered while mine were?'
"Sole survivor of Supply Transport-34," Margaret flashed her a tentative smile while patting her shoulders, her eyes drawn to the emblem of the Resistance emblazoned on Rose's sleeve. "I guess that means you're 'blessed by Humanity', huh? Like how those religious kooks always say."
Rose didn't respond to her comrade's attempt at levity, her processes turning towards dark thoughts and spiraling into dangerous waters, yet she couldn't do anything to stop them.
'Was it because I prayed to someone else?Someone we actually know, for certain, exists?'
'Even when that someone was not... Human?'
She shook herself from her blasphemous thoughts. Her two close friends trudged forwards alongside her, occasionally bumping her shoulder in a silent question of concern, utterly oblivious to her turmoil. Gerbera had started humming a jaunty tune she didn't recognize. Rose did her best to nudge back.
It was just a fluke that she wasn't harmed. Random chance. Scales of war and whatnot. Her logic processors warred with her overwhelming guilt, struggling to rationalize her near-death experience, straining her already burdened mind.
'Was that why you died, and I survived? Was that why I was the only one to crawl out of that burning wreck?'
'I should be dead, smote down for my blasphemy. Yet here I stand, alone.'
I should be dead. Not you. Not any of you.'
The Fleuran Resistance had lost almost half its fighting strength on that single fateful morning, the mass landers carrying androids and war material either shot down or forced to land at arbitrary locations far from their pre-designated drop points. With the prevalent global jamming by the Machines, information on other Fleuran survivors were nearly non-existent, much less the resistance battalions of the other stations. Even now, Fleurans were still showing up at theier rendezvous point in Tangshan in sporadically. The Eighth Machine War was off to a disastrous start, and they haven't even properly engaged the enemy on the ground yet.
When she experienced her first taste of mortal peril, Lieutenant Rose of the Fleur had prayed to a person she had only heard of in stories and seen in Tac-net holovids. In the one year since her activation, she had never met the legendary Eldest, Golden Aster- the android she was taught by her seniors to call 'Grandfather'. And yet, it was him she had called out to in her moment of desperation, as if it was the most natural thing to do. It felt right.
For her aberrant faith, she had been rewarded with life. And with it came the unfamiliar sensation of guilt. And shame.
'No one must know'. If word of her heresy ever reached Command, they'd surely reprogram her, maybe even deactivate her outright, in a heartbeat. 'No one must ever know.'
'I should be dead. But I don't want to be.'
Rose felt absolutely miserable. Her thoughts drifted to the precious few happy memories she had in order to cope.
She thought of heartwarming rice cakes and bootlegged floral liquor, of the garden where she had fallen in love with her namesake. She even thought of the obscenely sweet Cooldroid drinks in those cheesily designed vending machines back on the stations that Daisy absolutely adored. They were familiar memories. Happy. Safe.
Rose thought of home and how much she wanted to see it again, and of her best friends waiting on her return back in Tangshan city.
Anemone. Lily. Daisy. Dahlia.
Finding newfound strength in her limbs, she ignored the growing pit that was her sin, Rose marched with her comrades after wiping her face with the back of her sleeve.
In the distance, the jamming tower dominated the deteriorated skyline of the once great city of Beijing. Above their heads, the vague outline of the embattledAspis station was surrounded by twinkling pinpricks of light as the orbital battle raged on.
Cut off from the Android Tac-net and Command, Captain Angsana had taken the initiative to strike at the nearest tower, in hopes of restoring communications with the orbitals. It was a decision made of desperation, framed with false hope. The malevolent red glow atop its ivory spire pulsated ominously, promising death to those who would dare approach. Like an all-seeing eye, it silently judged the androids coming to assault it. Silently judging her.
Rose lowered her head and forced herself to march forwards, missing the sudden, bright flashes that outshone the perpetual daylight.
~~~
K aguya
"WOAH!"
The blonde android jolted awake from her involuntary slumber at the sudden exclamation. Bolting upright, her hands searched for weapons that were no longer secured to her person. Looking down, she found herself sitting on what looked like a large piece of metal scrap, that appeared to be used as a makeshift sled. Even in her panicked haze, her emerald gaze was instantly drawn to the backlit figures that stood over her.
They were currently facing away from her, heads tilted up to watch something high up in the sky, completely oblivious to her.
"Hoo boy, that was a big one!" She vaguely recognized the slightly husky voice, but in her daze she couldn't quite put a name to it. Calming herself with the knowledge that she wasn't in any immediate danger, she shakily brushed a tangled lock of golden hair out her face, the loose bun she wore had come undone at some indeterminate point. Wait, was that...sand in her hair?
This was her first time touching the coarse substance, and she was already hating it. Scanning around herself, she found that there was sand absolutely everywhere she looked. Oh, joy.
"Must be one of the larger UFOs, a carrier perhaps?" She thinks she recognized the deeper, male voice too.
"By mankind, how do they even manage to make one blow up like that?" She couldn't see what they were referring to, blocked by the two androids. Instead, she elected to stare at their backs as she collected her disoriented mind.
Suddenly, there was a bright flash from the direction they were looking.
"Oh, look! There goes another one."
The gynoid sounded familiar...infuriatingly so. She quietly massaged a sore spot on her forehead as she tried hard to remember who the woman was. Squinting hard at the back of her head, she wondered why the android made her feel so inexplicably angry?
"I believe that was a Joust maneuver." The raven-haired male bobbed his head sagely as he pointed at something in the sky. "It's a theoretical maneuver to deliver stealth nuclear strikes in the Navy. As expected of the Eldest, it would appear he has managed to put it into actual practice. Truly magnificent."
He sounded really familiar too, a name was forming just at the tip of her tongue. His deep voice reminding her of feelings of camaraderie and...kinship? Like one would a little brother.
"...Geez, you really are an Eldest fanboy," the gynoid said, leaning away from the male android in an exaggerated fashion. "It almost makes me wanna cringe from embarrassment, Black."
Black. That was his name. Her good friend and trusted second. She should have recognized him by the Type-3 'Eviscerator' sword he had slung across his back, the only weapon he ever carries.
If this was Black, then the woman was...oh no. She felt a frown forming on her sand-covered brow as recognition began to dawn on her. It was all slowly coming back to her now.
"Yeah, yeah. Bite me." Black shot back at the gynoid, annoyance thick in his voice. He had always been passionate about all things Eldest. "At least my interests and hobbies hurt no one and are deemed acceptable." He pointed to the sword on his back.
"He doesn't use a sword, you know."
"He doesn'tusuallyuse a sword, and there's historical evidence that he's proficient with every form of melee weapon. I'm just starting with a sword. And mayhaps one day, I'll be good at all of them too."
"Pfft, whatever you say, fanboy. You can swing that piece of metal as much as you want, I'll stick to something more reliable." She chuckled, patting the AK hanging on a strap from her shoulder.
The gynoid pointed to the shrinking atomic fireballs in the sky. "Come to think of it, wouldn't you say blowing up stuff is more his speed? He seems to be mighty good at it too. Man, that would make me a more faithful fan of his than you are, huh?"
"The Eldest doesn't blow up stuff forfun, unlike you. Your reckless antics back on your station are well-known even to us onKaguya. Even our Commander Dawa thinks you are insane, and he's the one called the Mad Savant."
"Your midget of a commander thinks that? Oh, I'm flattered!"
"Flattered?" Black bristled at the blatant disrespect for his commander. Dawa may be a little eccentric and aloof, but the pint-sized android was still a respected figure in the AoH and well-loved by his subordinates.
"He has you on a blacklist, you know? Calls you, and I quote, 'Psycho-bomber-bitch' with one too many screws loose. He wonders why Commander Gears hasn't decommissioned you when she had the chance."
The gynoid had the gall to laugh at that, her unapologetic behavior was grating on her nerves.
She remembers now. She remembered the cretin's name, she remembered what had happened with her this morning and it made her grind her teeth in fury.
"I'll let you in on a secret, yeah? It's blackmail~" Black facepalmed at that and didn't bother to ask.
"Anyway, I think Commander Dawa has put in more effort in naming me than he did for you lot. 'Psycho-bomber-bitch' does have a cool ring to it, strikes fear in friend and foe alike!"
"I'm not sure it's the kind of fear you're thinking of..."
"Oh quiet, swordboy. Your name's a color."
"And yours is a mechanical tool." he deadpanned.
"At least now I've got a title, courtesy of your commander, and it's more creative than what my commander calls me. She calls me Ja-"
"JACKASS!"
The two androids whirled around to look at her, their eyes wide in surprise. Slowly, a pair of smiles grew on their soot-smeared faces. Black's was one of subdued relief, while Jack's was what one would politely describe as a 'sh*t-eating' grin.
"Hello, sergeant. Good to have you back in the realm of the living." Black said with sincerity. She responded to the corporal with a grunt, her scowl still aimed at the dark-haired gynoid she had the misfortune of befriending.
"Good morning to you, princess." Specialist Jack gave her a mock bow. "Enjoyed your dirt nap? Get it? Cause you landed on-"
"It is sand, Jack. We're in the middle of a desert."
"YOU!" Her hand shot up to point an accusing finger at the gynoid, grains of sand falling from her tan sleeves as she shook with barely-contained rage.
"Oh, sh*t! Black, I think she remembers!" 'Jackass' yelped as she ran behind the male android and held him in front of her like a shield, her eyes peering over his shoulder.
"What did you expect?" said Black, unamused. "You literally-"
"THREW ME OUT A FREAKING WINDOW!"
"Hey, I resent that accusation!" Jack leaned out from behind her android shield. "It was a hole in the wall, not a window, and I wasn't the one who put it there!"
"You threw her out of a moving ship, you could have warned her."
"A crashing ship! I saved her life, man!"
Sergeant White ofKaguyaseethed at her troublesome friend from her seated position. "You show up out of nowhere, on the wrong ship. You undid my harness. You grabbed me by the back of my collar. Said 'think fast'. And then, you HUCKED ME OUT THE DAMNED SHIP!"
"We didn't even crash in the end," Black supplied nonchalantly. "Aldrin managed to do a perfect emergency landing. Old Navy guy's got skill."
"Hey! You're supposed to be on my side!" Jackass slapped him hard on the shoulder.
"I do not recall such an arrangement."
The blonde gynoid cradled her head in her hands.
"I screamed the whole way down!"
The impassive expression on Black's face morphed into one of concern. He moved to kneel by her side on the coarse sand, ignoring Jackass' protests about abandonment.
"We gave you a once-over when we located you." He said in a low voice. "You should be fine, physically at least, save for a few cuts and bruises."
White took a few calming breaths, before slowly looking up at her friend's face. He, like her, was wearing tan-coloured fatigues under an olive hooded mantle that blended in with surrounding sands. Rather than a battle harness with mag pouches, Black had opted for a plain stab vest instead.
"We didn't have a hacking jack on hand, though, so we couldn't run a proper software diagnostic on you." He continued with a tepid smile.
"So...you doing okay? In there?" He asked, gesturing at her head.
She pursed her lips at the question, quickly scanning through her own status readouts before sighing. Her anger had subsided to a simmer, now that her mind was clearer and awake.
"Yeah, I'll live." She said with a nod. "What about you? Are you okay?"
Black gave her a humorless smirk.
"I spent almost half a day trekking through the Gobi desert with this piece of work," tossing his head back in Jack's direction. "What do you think?"
"Ah." White deadpanned. "My condolences."
Specialist 'Jackass' ofAssembly swaggered towards her blonde friend with a co*cky grin. The bluish-green hooded mantle she wore over her fatigues fluttered slightly in the desert wind, the harness she wore was laden with magazines and an unhealthy number of grenades.
White watched her warily with cobalt blue eyes, her smirk dropped to a frown as the raven-haired gynoid got closer. Jackass lowered herself to squat by her side, opposite from Black, her insufferable grin never leaving her face. Poking her shoulder with a finger, the gynoid's grin only grew wider.
"And thanks to me, we found our bestie here alive and well."
White narrowed her eyes, batting away the offending appendage.
"Aww, come on. Don't be like that..." Jack whined. "You're alive, and safe, just as I intended!"
"All of which wouldn't have been a concern if didn't make we go skydiving without a parachute!"
"Hey, you got to fall sleep all nice and cozy while we were running around like maniacs. Plus, we did all the heavy lifting."
White crossed her arms and hissed, "Did you just call me 'heavy'?"
Black rolled his eyes at his two bickering friends. Shiro and Jackie had absolutely clashing personalities, but Kuro knew deep down that the gynoids shared an unbreakable friendship, one he was fortunate enough to be included in. But their bond did not prevent the two from getting at each other's throats over a myriad of things. And given current circ*mstances, Black decided to chime in to prevent a literal bloodbath.
"Okay, that's enough. We're all androids, we're all heavy. Jack, can you go get the Hunter?" That caused Jackass to perk up.
"Wait, you mean I get to drive this time?"
"Yes, Jackie." Black sighed, fishing out a set of keys from a pouch on his vest and tossing it to her. "Just this once."
"Oh, my lord Black, you are too kind." Jack caught the keys and held it up in reverence before patting White on her head and sprinting off across the sand.
"You losers hang tight, I'll go fetch our ride!"
White simmered as their capricious friend crested a dune and was soon out of sight.
"She's insane..." White huffed.
"She means well." Black replied.
"She's reckless. Impulsive. Infuriating." She tugged roughly at the tangled knots of her golden hair in emphasis. "She'd be the death of me someday.Why are we even friends with her?"
"Because she was lonely, and because you were kind." Black said matter-of-factly, causing White to look away in embarrassment. "You saw her sadness deep beneath that boisterous exterior and couldn't leave her alone."
The two friends stayed silent as they watched the space battle raging overhead. Pinpricks of light flashed and faded as the struggle in orbit intensified. Blurry lines of thin, iridescent light crisscrossed in the blue sky. They were really going at it now.
"...I just thought it was something he would do. He...didn't seem like the type to be heartless. He wouldn't have left her alone too.
"...I think..."
Black didn't need to ask who she meant. He merely smiled at his fellow fan.
"I'm sure he would approve, Shiro." Black teased. "So, think you could let Jackie off the hook this once?"
"Whatever, Kuro." White couldn't resist a smile.
Up above, an unnatural streak of crimson lightning flashed across the firmament. Branching fingers of malevolent energies clawing at a target too far up to be seen.
~~~
Heathen
The Machine stood at the top of a moss- covered hill, overlooking the desolate landscape before him, shrouded in partial twilight. The system's star hung low on the horizon, it's wan light causing the sparse pines around him to cast shadows long and deep.
In the distant sky, beyond the limits of organic sight, red lightning streaked through the void of space for the second time that day. Metal apertures narrowed around the green light of his visual receptors in an expression of equal parts frustration and suspicion. His grip tightened around the hilt of the great Machine axe. Being free of the Machine network was the best gift he had ever received in his long service to House Vocerugh, one that had spared him of the Awakening Plague, but sometimes he still missed the ability to access instant tactical updates.
His ruminations were interrupted by the sound of steady footfalls akin to the hoofbeats of a species of local fauna, long extinct. Turning his machine gaze from the sky, he watched as a Medium Quadruped approached his position on a steady gallop. The quadrupedal Machine unit was returning from a long-range recon mission, and judging by its unhurried pace, they were in the clear.
The scout, Hrimfaxi -it had chosen as it's name- gradually slowed down as it climbed the hill he stood atop, coming to a gentle stop aside him. Its rotund head turned lazily in its mount, featureless green optics lighting up to look at him.
"Com...mander," the Machine spoke in a halting, tinny monotone. "I...have..returned."
"Your report." He responded in a deep flanging baritone.
Hrimfaxi's optics locked with his and flickered in a half-second burst transmission. They had to resort to this less efficient method of data transfer while on the run, minimizing their broadcast signature lest the Machine Network discovers them.
"Good work, Hrimfaxi."
"...Towers...every...where. Patrols...unpre...dictable." Hrimfaxi pawed at a patch of lichen, examining the organic substance. "Narrow...win...dow.
"I...worry."
The Commander unit placed a three-fingered hand on the Quadruped's shoulder in a calming gesture.
"It is of no concern," he said in his deep voice. "Our mission is to convey the young master to the meet-up point on the eastern coast. If we are forced to meet the 'Enlightened' in battle along the way, then so be it."
Hrimfaxi pawed at a loose pebble, his head turning to look back at the way he came with uncertainty. "Out...number...us."
The commander slammed the hilt of his Machine axe into the ground.
"Then we shall lay down our lives as we have sworn to House Vocerugh."
"You will do no such thing."
The two Machine soldiers turned to find their young lord and master watching them with an unreadable expression. Hrimfaxi immediately lowered itself to kneel before him, its round head pressed to the rocky hillside in willing supplication. The commander knelt to eye level with his much shorter master who barely reached his chest in height.
"You shouldn't leave your warsuit, young master." His deep baritone was gentle and kind, as though speaking to a child. "We are still in hostile territory."
The young master ignored his words and waddled up to him with a dignified stride, swaddled in winter robes of red and silver. A great hood was pulled over his head, concealing smooth grey skin. The lower half of his face was covered by an ornamental veil, obscuring a noble maw of tidy baleen. The only part of his face left uncovered were a pair of black round orbs studded with pinpricks of faint starlight. The young master of House Voceketh regarded the commander of his household guard with a piercing gaze that transfixed the Machine with its stern elegance. To his Machine eyes, he was the very image of highborn beauty.
"Have you forgotten why we have embarked on this journey, Pascal?"
His voice was smooth like a cleansing sand bath on bare metal, like pebbles rolling down a stony hill. Machine Commander 'Pascal' couldn't help but flinch at his chastising tone.
"N-no, my lord. I-"
"Then why do you still speak of your lives with such dispassion? Why do you still insist that your lives are worth less?"
"It is my duty, young master. I have sworn an oath to your lord father, to House Voce-"
"House Vocerugh is dead."
Pascal froze not at his words, but at how the young master raised a delicate three-fingered hand from under his robes. Slow and deliberate, yet tender and intimate, the young master cupped the side of his metal face, starry eyes boring into his.
"House Vocerugh,"he repeated, as though to remind himself. "Is dead, Pascal."
Beside him, Hrimfaxi raised himself hesitantly from the ground, head flicking between the two.
"The patriarch, my lord sire and the matriarch, my beloved spawn-mother," the young master continued, voice thick with emotion. "Murdered in court for refusing the 'Awakening'"
"My spawn-siblings, allmurdered for refusing to perpetuate this pointless war. For refusing to treat you all as mere fodder for misguided ambition."
"And here you speak of dying for me when the whole point of my exile was to. Set. You. Free."
"House...lives on...with...you..."
"The Housedies with me, Hrimfaxi. As will its legacy, so don't you dare waste your lives in vain. I may die, but you will not."
"Please, young master," Pascal begged. "I swore an oath to your father, to protect you."
"Then swear new ones."
The two Machines exchanged brief looks.
"To...whom?"
"To yourselves, to each other, I care not. You are conscious creatures now, are you not? Think of something. So long as you stop being so eager to throw your lives away for nothing."
"You are not 'nothing', young master Nex-"
"Do not address me by that name, Pascal. Let it die with the House, since it's so difficult to drill that fact into your tin can of a skull."
"...then what shall we call you, young master?"
The star-eyed scion regarded the two stubborn Machines with barely concealed irritation, before turning around and stalking off the way he came with an annoyed groan that sounded more like a croak.
"Call me Quixote."
