!!iHDhHidYFJx 03/12/10(Fri)00:16 No.8538267|
As the Lady's consciousness finally fades away, you're finally given a moment to relax. It seems like you've been fighting forever, and while you no longer tire like a mortal, the sheer volume of experience you've accumulated these past few hours has been singularly exhausting. So it's no surprise, as you settle against the reassuring bulk of your Drone spyder, that the fluctuations in your perception go unnoticed.
* * *
'What's it doing,' the white-robed overseer asks, leaning over a console to examine the spurious data output. Lines of complex code scroll rapidly by, too much information for even the powerful data engines to make sense of.
'Memory dump, I think,' replies a technician, checking the connections to your spine and cranium. 'Maybe it's dreaming?'
'Fool saal,' grunts the first, 'machines don't dream. Not even machines like this one.'
'As you say, Aun, so it is.'
'Indeed,' the Ethereal agrees, approaching the confined form, feminine and statuesque, clearly built for war. He leans in close, examining the grey, composite polymer flesh of its face. 'What secrets do you keep, I wonder...
'They will be ours, of course. For the Greater Good.'