***
"Here's the warrant and the recent investigation results you wanted, soldier."
The police officer shoved a file and a slip of paper into my hands, his tone gruff, dismissive. "You sure any case is fine? I could dig up something lighter for you, kid." His words dripped with condescension.
I met his gaze evenly. "I'm a sergeant in the Nymphas Empire's military. We've already established that—so please stop calling me 'kid,' Captain Dekio."
He paused. Then, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped back. "Well, excuse this old man then, Sergeant Jason Osthez." With that, he turned on his heel, leaving me to sort through the mess he'd just handed me.
Stepping outside the precinct, I dropped onto a bench and flipped open the file.
+
Case Type: Kidnapping.
Victims: 23 children.
Current Status: Unknown.
Leads: One.
+
I groaned. "Of course they handed me a damn nightmare case." Flipping through the reports, I skimmed the crime scene photos, combed through scattered witness statements, and watched grainy surveillance footage—none of which offered much to go on. Just fragments, hints of something lurking beneath the surface, but nothing solid.
Sighing, I closed the file and leaned back, staring up at the cloudy sky.
"...I wonder what Nicole's up to with that artificial right now."
***
"Ughhh..." I groaned, dropping my head against the table in defeat.
Three hours. Three miserable hours.
After twenty-seven consecutive losses in Immortal Duels 11, I'd switched to a first person shooter game Nicole recommended—Destiny 3: Simulated Finality.
It was... slightly better. At least I managed to take down enemies every now and then, using the game's bizarre grenades and strange magical abilities. But my kill-to-death ratio? Embarrassing.
"Damn, you suck at video games," Nicole remarked between sips of a fizzy drink, rubbing salt into my already deep wounds. "Two kills, seven assists, twenty-three deaths. How is it even possible to be that bad?"
"I'm improving!" I shot back, exasperated. "I'll get three kills next match!"
"Nah, you won't." Nicole stretched before standing up. "Because we're leaving. We're getting more attention than I'd like." At her words, I glanced around—and immediately felt the weight of dozens of stares, each one filled with something between disdain and outright hostility. "Word about me bringing an artificial here spread faster than I thought," Nicole muttered, waving mockingly at one particularly hateful onlooker.
I exhaled sharply. "I take it that's a bad thing."
"Very." Nicole handed in the arcade passes at a nearby console before scanning her card at the front desk to pay. "Let's bounce."
Once we stepped outside, I noticed them—a group of five boys trailing after us down the street, whispering among themselves.
Leaning in to Nicole, I murmured, "Five pursuers. Teenagers. High schoolers, judging by the uniforms."
Nicole glanced back without a hint of concern, even raising a hand to wave at them—immediately ticking them off. "They're old troll targets of mine." She shrugged. "Just keep walking and follow my lead."
I adjusted my pace to match hers, keeping silent as I observed our surroundings.
"You seem more aware of the prejudices against artificials than most," Nicole noted suddenly.
"Back in the training facility, it was obvious that regular humans had a vendetta against anything different from them," I replied flatly. "It took them two years just to start talking to us."
Nicole exhaled through her nose, almost amused. "So you don't know everything."
I hesitated. Maybe now was the time to ask. Nicole had been unexpectedly open—welcoming, even. If anyone could give me an answer finally it would be her.
"Why are artificials hated?"
"That's a heavy topic." She veered into a quieter alley, leading us off the main street. "Sixty years ago, during the last emperor's reign, a service android went rogue. Something in its code—something deep, fundamental—corrupted it. And that single malfunction sparked an AI rebellion across Palace-World and beyond. Three million people died."
I stiffened. My steps tripping on themselves momentarily.
Nicole continued. "Even AKPs turned against humanity when they were infected with Freyt's corrupted code. It took eight years to develop a digital cure, and by then, most rogue AI had been wiped out. But Freyt? He's still out there. Still carrying out whatever his mission to purge humanity is. The insurgents—Freiheit—follow him. Why humans have joined his cause? That, I don't get."
My hand instinctively brushed against the side of my head, where my cybernetic implants met flesh. Could I be hacked? My brain was still mostly organic, but with cybernetic integration in my cerebral cortex... was I vulnerable?
"The insurgents... Freiheit." I echoed the name, my mind racing.
Suddenly, everything clicked. The venomous glares. The distrust. The hatred. It wasn't me personally—it was what I represented.
I exhaled slowly. "I should have learned about this sooner."
"Eh, wouldn't have changed much. We'd still be in this situation," Nicole groaned as we turned a corner—only to find ourselves at a dead end.
I turned around. We weren't alone anymore. What had been five pursuers had multiplied—twenty, maybe more, all blocking the way we'd come from.
Nicole sighed, stretching her arms. "Well, this is my fault. Guess word about us spread even faster than I thought." Then, raising her voice, she called out, "Hey! Where's that dumbass boss of yours? I don't have all day, so just come out already, you bastard!"
"Nicole, you mangy slut!" A short young man, a full head shorter than Nicole, stepped out from the crowd, dragging a metal pipe across the pavement. "If you ever attacked our base again, I told you I'd break all your joints!" He snarled.
Nicole tilted her head, glancing him up and down—though her gaze seemed to linger below his belt. "Ehhh? Is that really something a man your size should be saying?"
His face burned red. "I'M AVERAGE, YOU FREAK!" He slammed the pipe into the ground with a loud clang. "I'm really gonna enjoy this. And don't think that artificial freak next to you is gonna save you!"
Nicole leaned over, whispering conspiratorially. "Okay. Summon that mech and crush 'em."
"No." I declared outright.
Her eyes widened in panic. "No?! If you don't, they're gonna break our limbs!"
I scanned the group. Twenty-four in total. Unarmed, they wouldn't even be a threat. With pipes and tools? Annoying, but hardly deadly. None of them moved like trained fighters. "...I could handle them," I admitted. "But military protocol forbids me from attacking civilians."
Nicole gawked at me. "B-but—I was counting on you beating them up!" She reached for me, trying to grab hold, but I easily sidestepped her frantic attempt. "Oh, come on!"
"Enough blabbering!" A pipe came swinging down toward my head.
Instinct took over. A shift in my stance—a swift motion of my leg—trip. The attacker hit the ground before he even realised what happened. I followed through, wrenching the weapon from his hand and cracking it against his brow. He crumpled to the ground immediately.
Nicole whistled, grinning. "Half-a-second beatdown. Now do that to the rest of them!"
Realising what I'd just done, a flicker of panic shot through me. "Uh... oh no. W-what happens if the commanders find out?"
"Only Monica will have anything to say about it." Nicole waved off my concerns, pumping her fists like she was ready to jump in—only to casually lean back against the wall instead. She gave me a shove forward. "Now go get the rest of them!"
I picked up the metal pipe from the street floor, already too late to go back, and glanced at my belt. "What are my odds, Andy?"
[23 assailants. 17 armed with fragile weaponry. Untrained male physiques. Likely fragile mentality,] Andromeda calculated with a quick pause. [100% success estimated with lethal force. 99% success with non-lethal force.] Andromeda estimated.
I exhaled. "And how much trouble will I be in after this?"
[This situation qualifies as self-defence. CCTV above has a clear view of the entire altercation. You have the green light, Pilot. Engage.]
And that was all the confirmation I needed. Tightening my grip on the stolen pipe, I shot forward. The first two went down with swift, clean strikes to the head. I wove between their numbers, striking at joints, forcing them to crash into each other in their panic.
"Ah—fuck! You hit me!"
"Why the hell is she so nimble?!"
"I can't even touch her!"
One by one, they fell—tripping over each other, crying out in frustration. Seven were down in under a minute. Five minutes later, every last one of them lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, bruised and beaten.
Catching my breath, I let the bent and dented pipe drop onto the leader's back with a dull thud. "They were... weirdly persistent."
[Immature masculine pride prevented them from fleeing when they should have,] Andromeda noted. [Your swift execution underplayed your threat level. This will be a valuable lesson for them in the future, Pilot.]
Nicole clapped as she strolled over, grinning. "Nice work—AHH!"
Without warning, Andromeda materialized in full form, towering over her in the enclosed alley. The knight kneeled, his visor gleaming as he loomed down at her. [You brought my Pilot here knowing she would have to fight this gang. Under military protocol, you are due for disciplinary action—pay suspension.]
Nicole tensed but quickly straightened, waving off the metal giants threat. "Listen, big guy, I had my reasons. And I knew these trolls were nothing against your pilot!"
I stepped between them, placing a hand on Andromeda's armoured finger. "A-Andy, I'm fine." He turned his visor toward me. "Besides... this taught me something important. How soft civilians really are. Can we let Nicole off this once?"
Nicole huffed, crossing her arms. "Jeez. What's with that stare, mech?"
Andromeda hesitated, then dematerialized back into card form, reattaching himself to my belt. [As you request, Pilot. But next time, protocol will be enforced.]
Nicole sighed in relief. "Good. I'd rather not have to hack my way into my own payroll again."
But I wasn't letting her off that easy. Turning to face her, I fixed her with a pointed stare. "Tell me something."
Nicole's grin faltered. "Huh?"
"There's more to this than just some petty vendetta, isn't there?"
For a moment, she didn't answer. Then, with a dramatic groan, she rubbed her face before exhaling. "Ugh, fine. Come on. I'll show you." Without another word, she turned and started walking.
I hesitated, glancing at the gang still groaning on the ground. "Uh... what about them?"
Nicole didn't even look back. "The cops will find them. Probably." She shot me a look over her shoulder. "If you wanna know the truth, stop asking questions and follow me, Firefly."
After a moment, I jogged after her. The city blurred around us as we moved. More glowing signs, flashing billboards, bustling streets—I was still seeing new things everywhere I turned. At one point, Nicole had to physically drag me away when I got too distracted.
Eventually, the neon lights faded, and the streets quieted. We stopped behind a graffiti-streaked brick wall. And ahead of us stood a small imperial church—its architecture simple but dignified, a testament to faith in the Empress and her bloodline.
Nicole crouched behind the wall, gesturing for me to do the same. "Wait."
"Wait for what?"
"Shh." She motioned toward the church's front yard. "There."
I peered over. Children. Dressed in oversized, tattered clothes, running and playing in the yard. The youngest looked no older than five, the oldest perhaps ten. On a bench nearby, an older woman sat knitting, her expression serene as she watched over them.
I raised an eyebrow. "What am I looking at?"
"An orphanage." Nicole's voice was quiet.
I glanced at her. Her usual energy had dulled into something heavier.
"This is where kids without families end up," she murmured. "Those guys I tricked you into beating up? They come here every month and bully the kids. The sister in charge can't stop them—short bastard's dad is on the city council, and the orphanage's funding is already low." Her lips curled in anger slightly. "Most of these kids will get sent to military programs if they don't get adopted first."
Something clicked in my mind. Back in the training facility, I remembered cadets talking about growing up in orphanages. I remembered hiding in the vents, overhearing whispered conversations about where they'd come from.
But until now, I'd never truly understood.
"I'm an orphan too." Nicole leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, staring at the children. "My parents deserted the army to join Freiheit right after I was born. Got themselves killed by the same insurrectionists they ran to. So I spent most of my childhood in a place like this before I got conscripted into the empire's Digital Rampart Forces."
Her tone was casual. Like she was talking about the weather.
"No military branch wanted me after I finished training," she continued. "Said I was a jinx, bad luck or whatever. So I got shoved into Rogue Raven."
I swallowed. "You... come here to look after them."
Nicole chuckled. "Most people just point out that my parents were traitors first." She shrugged. "I probably would've been brainwashed into their bullshit too if Freiheit hadn't stabbed them in the back. But I know what it's like to grow up hard-pressed. So I guess you could say I help out." She smirked. "Not like the city council of an irrelevant planet can petition for my court-martial just because I keep pranking their pompous brats."
I turned back to the orphanage, watching the children play. Then—someone else walked into the yard. A familiar figure. "Wait... is that Jason?"
Nicole blinked. "Say huh?" She leaned forward, peeking over the wall. Sure enough, Jason stood near the entrance, his usual gruff expression unreadable. Nicole frowned. "What the hell is he doing here?"
"Should we go ask?" I whispered.
"No." Before I could move, she yanked me back and pulled a small device from her hoodie pocket, its screen lighting up. "Let's watch and see what he's up to," she murmured, a devilish grin spreading across her face.