A blue figure, being overtaken by a grotesque mass of clovers, as if it were being devoured by the hues and shades. ______ stared intently, their eyes fixated on the man being eaten. They weren’t sure why, but the feelings it invoked reminded them of the boy’s death. They had half a mind to ask Soile about it, but at the same time, they deigned to avoid upsetting Soile any further than their presence already caused.

She took their exposed hand, and ______’s gaze would finally break away from the painting to look down. Their hand would be placed on her lap, and she would start to clean it. It was still in immense pain from before, but they betrayed nothing as she dabbed and cleaned around it. She’d disinfect a pair of tweezers, and the machine realized she was putting actual care into removing this without damaging them further.

Even something like them…

She asked a question, about why her beloved would confide in his killer.

Why, indeed? It was the most bizarre thing, for someone to talk to their would-be murderer as though they were a close friend and trusted confidant.

______ closed their eyes for a moment, the blue lights on the machine shutting off as their head turned away from Soile briefly.

”When a man has no one else to turn to, they resort to the most damning things… He had no one else but me at his end. We were together for many hours.” They would pause briefly, their voice trailing off a bit through the distortion.

”Even faced with the end, he did not stop talking about you like you were all of the light in the world.”

Valo Morei. A boy who got in too much over his head. He charged into Morei Tech alone that day, determined to stop the atrocities taking place within. A final, desperate push in a losing battle.

The machine had to wonder… if Soile never disappeared, would the boy have continued on the path of a hero? Or would he have stopped to live a happier life with the woman he loved until the bitter end?

They opened their eyes, the lights turning on dimly once more.

”You do not need to be kind to me.”

Not when I took everything from you.”

Soile

______ finally let out audible groans of pain, wincing as Soile pulled the bullet from their hand. It was a gross, crimson mess and a damn miracle the gun didn’t straight blow their hand to smithereens. It wasn’t their best or brightest move, but it stopped Soile from dying too. A small price to pay.

She made a comment about keeping it as a souvenir, and ______ deigned not to answer. They had been shot at many times since they put the suit on, by all manners of projectiles. Beaten, stabbed, shot at. Their exosuit protected them from so many things that could’ve killed them had they not been wearing it. It made them a walking, hulking target as the trade-off.

Their breath got a little rattled as Soile began to disinfect the wound directly, taking deep breaths as she started to stitch the wound. They would remain as still as they could, doing their best to ignore the pain. With the gauntlet and nano-mesh removed from their hand, their pain dampeners weren’t available. They were feeling everything in this moment, and it was a strange and surreal feeling.

Soile asked another question, and ______ grew silent. Of course she would want to know why they did it. Would she even believe their answer? Perhaps she would get angry and cast them out.

But nothing but the truth would suffice.

”He did not. But he died so that others may live. He knew that he would die from the moment he awoke that day, but he faced it unflinchingly. When he first put on the mask, he started a chain of events that went out of his control. But with his life as payment, he amended those, starting a new chain… starting with me.”

It was cryptic, and likely didn’t explain much. It was probably hard to believe at all. How could the boy in all of his good heart have been the potential cause for others’ deaths? And how could taking his life have prevented others from dying?

Soile needed the answers, and ______ had them. The machine just did not know if she was ready to hear everything.

”He did not deserve to die. But I know that he wanted nothing more than for you to be happy in the end.”

Soile

______ winced once more as Soile hurt them, likely out of her disdain for their answers. They were the truth, loosely, and she was tortured by them.

She was crying. Venting out her frustrations. Her pain. Her anger. Her sorrow. All the machine's presence did was remind her of what she had lost. What drove her to the brink.

Soile still loved Valo.

Slowly, ______ would rise to their feet, standing in silence as Soile cried. The machine remained completely still, not even their breathing was audible. They looked down at the now crudely bandaged hand, seeing the dark crimson that stained it. It served as a reminder.

The machine was still yet human. They could still yet bleed.

Thousands upon thousands of thoughts ran through their mind. A million projected outcomes for any solution they could think of in a poor attempt to salvage things.

But things never went as one hoped, did they?

Anything they did would likely aggravate Soile further.

And they were too afraid to leave should she attempt to end it all once more.

What was the right choice? Was everything wrong?

Hesitantly, they resolved on the only option they had.

Slow footsteps would make their way towards the kitchen. Towards Soile. As the machine stood and looked at her for a few moments, they took her sight in. They committed it to memory.

"Soile..."

It was brief, but there was no more digitization obstructing their voice.

Steam would shoot from their shoulders and neck briefly as ejector rods pushed their way out. Using their one good hand, it would come up to grab their helmet. A loud click would be heard as it disengaged and started to pull away slowly. But they would stop as it moved just an inch from their face.

Was this the right choice?

The mask was removed, but they remained hesitant to stop obscuring their features.

Soile