The lion pride continues its migration without skipping a beat, reaching a new resting place after two days of travel.
The afternoon sun beats down on the earth as you doze against a male lion. Only the cubs still have the energy to pounce around, treating the dragon rider's tail as a worthy opponent in their hunting games.
Fed up with the harassment, Veronica gets up to leave, but the persistent little "slow learner" sticks to her like glue, determined to continue its epic battle with her infuriating tail.
Veronica turns around and gives the annoying cub a dangerous look, then suddenly flaps her wings with force. The powerful gust sends the little lion tumbling head over heels.
??
Rawr!
Just then, the tenacious little cub shakes it off and makes a beeline for Veronica again, only to get tossed head over heels by another strong gust.
By the time you finally wake up to all the ruckus, the cubs are already lined up, chomping at the bit for their turn to be flipped over by Veronica's little breezes, squealing with pure delight.
The lionesses, for their part, want no part of this whole spectacle. They're just chilling in small groups behind their cubs, soaking up the rare, refreshing wind.
You're just about to ask where the big, social male lion has disappeared to when you glance over and find the vainest creature in the pride sulking right by your side.
His mane is an absolute hot mess—sticking out in every direction—and his stylish little braid is completely lost somewhere in the tangled mess.
The second the cubs realize you—the walking treat dispenser—are awake, they descend on you like a pack of wolves, rubbing their heads and faces against you from every angle, all but demanding their daily snack.
Veronica folds her wings and sits down next to the lioness queen. Though the sun isn't as harsh anymore, she still shields her eyes from the glare with her hand.
The sunlight streams through her fingers, spilling onto her perpetually icy face. Right behind her, two cubs are sprawled across you, play-fighting with little nips and squeaky grunts like two amateur boxers squaring off.
"Warmth"...
Even though you're currently being used as a jungle gym by the cubs, you still catch Veronica's whispered word.
...
Veronica just gives you that classic look of hers that says she's not having it.
She casually tosses another stray lion cub into the human's arms.
Rawr?
Turns out the cub she just foisted on you is the most watchful and alert of the bunch. This little lion, who inherited his mother's royal demeanor, has never let you pet it before—not even once—so you can't help but give its head a hearty rub.
(Nice...?)
A breeze suddenly sweeps across the savanna. It weaves through Veronica's fingers and lifts the tips of her hair. She tilts her head, a puzzled expression on her face. For the first time, she finds herself content with this all-too-familiar daily scene.
Is this... nice? The weather is no different than any other day, so what's making everything feel so... pleasant? What on earth could it be?
Veronica slowly closes her eyes, focusing only on the feeling of the wind on her bionic skin.
What's the difference between this breeze and the gust of air from beating wings?
The wind carries the scent of fresh vegetation and the damp earth after a recent rain. She's smelled these before, but somehow it's like she's experiencing their vibrant presence for the very first time.
Veronica turns to the human who spoke. They share similar facial features and limb structures. And it's not just her—many mechanical beings have frames remarkably similar to the human form.
I understand...
A strange sadness washes over her.
So this is what the world looks like through your eyes. I wonder if my misguided mechanical kin... also get a glimpse into your world from the same viewpoint?
Such easily discarded standards of judgment...
The agony of the arena, the grimness of Aerospace City, the relentless torment, and a familiar ache.
None of your business.
Just as you expected, Veronica keeps her cards close to her chest. It's not a letdown.
...
Veronica shoots a skeptical glance, raising an eyebrow.
Really?
The Epirus savanna recovery project is a real blast from the past, trying to pick up where research left off before the Golden Age came to an end. Humanity's golden era of brilliance was full of stories just like this one.
During long experiments to find a cure for serious human illnesses, a formula that was a total bust got tossed in the trash, but it ended up being a miracle cure for deadly cat diseases.
The humble sweet wormwood, which had been sitting in livestock troughs for ages, was secretly holding the key to curing humanity's oldest fever-causing disease: malaria.
These all seem to be about biological lifeforms.
That web of interdependence and lucky breaks never included mechanical beings. From the moment they came into the world, they were thrown headfirst into an alien world already ruled by another species.
This give-and-take never applied to us.
Veronica gives you a baffled look.
As the original cradle of life on Earth, water is seen as the foundation for everything. It's in everything, nourishing all living things on this planet.
Water droplets dancing with flame, the searching eyes of humanity... Within the billowing steam, upon history's golden thread, a butterfly floats gently down.
With a gentle flutter of its wings, a new era began.
Are you telling me that just because we were built by humans, and just because we both "drink" from the same well, we should just sweep the bad blood between us under the rug?
Her rising anger is a tidal wave, but it meets a gaze so calm, so earnest, it completely washes over her.
The bad blood isn't the only thing we shouldn't turn a blind eye to.
The things under microscopes, the calculations humming inside computers, the sounds of tractors working the fields, the rumbling trains crossing continents, the metal space stations sailing through the heavens...
Before mechanoids even truly came to life, humans and machines had already moved mountains together.
Connection...
She repeats, the sneer gone from her face.
So what? What's the big deal? What's it going to change?
The human simply smiles, running a hand gently through the grass.
Mycelial networks?
...
Veronica blinks slowly. The human's words are starting to sink in, but she still feels like she's looking at the world through a fog.
Behind them, a tiny cub nestles into the lioness queen's embrace, while unrelated cubs snuggle together in a tight, cozy clump.
The male with a wild mane lies stretched out lazily next to the human, as if the one who had once pointed guns at them isn't even the same species.
(No...)
That day, yes, humans raised guns against the pride. But there was also the humans the lioness laid down her life to protect, and... Veronica, without even realizing it, is among them.
Out on the wide-open plains, she can almost feel a gentle presence reaching out, trying to pull her in.
But she knows there's more to the story.
You just see them as a nuisance, when they're probably just trying to get by, same as anything else.
The human can't help but let out a laugh, nodding in full agreement with the mechanical girl's blunt take.
Well, since you put it like that, I guess humans must have already had a taste of this surprise.
Inspired by fungi, humans developed immunosuppressants, which laid the groundwork for organ transplants, cybernetic enhancements, and even, to a certain extent, the very beginnings of Construct Tech.
Time marches on, and there's no telling which quiet, unassuming sapling will be the one to dig its roots in and save a crumbling levee—a true last-ditch effort for survival.
The world was never so black and white, a closed system that could only handle extremes.
It's not just a matter of weighing the good against the bad; it's a reality we have to face—we've always been part of a complex, ever-changing web. You can never tell what vast, intricate connections are hiding behind each seemingly isolated point.
But what does that really prove...
The mechanical girl keeps her head down, digging in her heels and refusing to let that faint torchlight cut through the many layers obscuring her mind.
But even with your eyes closed, retreating into darkness, you can't help but feel the warmth when you're close to the light.
Veronica casts her eyes downward, a look of sadness washing over her face.
She's seen proof of this force everywhere, but she's never managed to hold onto that kind of warmth for long.
A breeze dances through the branches of shrubs, skips across the water, tickles the nose of a leopard, ruffles a lion's mane, and finally becomes this gentle touch in Veronica's hair before chasing the unknown horizon.
...
Something in her, something that has been built up and fortified for so long, begins to crack.
In the end, that's just an excuse you humans use to enslave and control everything.
For example... do you know what kind of tech your visual modules use?
How would I know?
Some kind of multifunctional sensors, I guess.
Multifunctional sensors, yes... It was the research into this technology that let humans touch the mysteries of the spectrum beyond the limits of natural vision.
What about your combat armor?
...
Veronica's lips are sealed. She sees right through the human's game.
But the human doesn't need her to say a word.
Your battle gear is practically bulletproof, built to handle the nastiest conditions out there. This incredible toughness comes from humanity's need to push boundaries, to hunt for answers buried in the dead of winter or deep in a volcano's molten core.
Your sharp instincts can pick up on wind speed and direction changes better than any human. That's because, through endless days and nights, humanity never stopped talking with nature, with rain and storms, mountains and rivers, until we could crack all their codes.
Every single one of these functions you take for granted has humanity's priceless curiosity baked right into it.
So, should I be thanking humans then? Like I would a creator?
The human just gently shakes their head.
But... weren't humans the ones who misused these abilities the most? For power, for selfish desires?
Lonely...?
That's a feeling mechanical life has never wrapped its head around.
Yeah, lonely. It's the desperate ache for a companion who really gets you.
Humans have spent ages poring over animals, digging into plants, and wondering if there was anyone out there in the cosmos we could talk to. We even had a wild thought—what if machines could have their own minds and feelings?
When you look at the emerald leaves of acacia trees dancing in the wind, or a couple of lion cubs tumbling over each other, you see a world full of creatures living together. But only she and the human standing there are so much alike.
Why did humans take their hopes and dreams and put a human face on them?
Why specifically a human shape? Talk about arrogant.
The humans who gave you a human likeness might have had a big head about it, but... they were also just plain lonely.
For the longest time, we've been dying for another species just like us, one that could see the world through our eyes.
Think about all the ghosts and ghouls in old stories, the talking animals and furniture in fairy tales, even the sun and moon with their almost-human faces.
Long before mechanoids came along, humans were already inventing buddies to keep the emptiness at bay, until something real finally showed up.
But when we actually arrived, you met us with fear, dread, and disgust. Isn't that what you humans call hypocrisy?
No one can always do the right thing...
A flood of painful memories washes over Veronica, and for once, she finds herself nodding along with the human.
We've built up order and institutions to push back against the chaos. We've developed morality and reason to fight off the greed and shortsightedness in our own hearts.
Even when everything seems to be falling apart, we're always building something new.
We've looked for that ideal in our gods, our saints, and out among the stars... Now, we're looking for it in you... a new kind of life we've made with our own hands.
Veronica doesn't say a word, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
But even in her silence, you can feel the storm brewing inside her.
I don't know.
I have no desire to understand this world—your world. I don't see a single thing about it that's worth my time.
And I've never really felt... connected to anything.
The human stoops down, scooping up the tiny creature next to them and holding it close to Veronica's face.
The cub's dewy eyes meet the mechanical girl's unblinking, inorganic gaze.
Squeak.
...
I don't know.
Just to survive. To make it out here on this savanna.
Veronica stays silent, but the lioness lying on the ground stretches out with a graceful elegance and lets out a roar as if she's in total agreement.
Veronica usually prefers just chilling with the lioness over those little troublemakers.
She's a true protector of her own kind.
...
Veronica doesn't object, simply picking up the cub nestled beside her. This is Hermione's only daughter to survive the breeding seasonDclever and brave to a fault.
The little fluffy creature, who only gets petted because Veronica has intentionally let her guard down, lets out a tiny roar in her hands.
She'll be the best warrior on this savanna. Give me a name that reflects that.
Matilde.
Just then, the pride's only adolescent male lion flops down beside the human, strutting his stuff and showing off his mane.
Let's call him Fancy Mane.
Before anyone can object, Veronica has already turned and walked away, leaving no room for argument.
Even Veronica's retreating silhouette screams total indifference.
Surveying.
You throw caution to the wind, getting up to follow her.
It's adapted well enough. Once I confirm this migration route is safe, I'll be on my way to continue my mission.
