<i>A baby elephant chained up from birth in a circus.</i>
<i>Even after they've grown strong enough to do anything,</i>
<i>And they won't actively break free from what holds them back.</i>
<i>This fable of the Golden Age</i>
<i>Exposing the brutal reality of psychological conditioning.</i>
Scattered rocks, broken stems, a barren wasteland, and dead trees collapsed in mud. A hot wind blows through, carrying the unmistakable scent of blood, hinting at more death on the horizon.
I'm going to make them pay.
Unable to contain her fury any longer, Veronica turns and spreads her wings.
The ravaged landscape barely shows any human tire tracks. There are too many things that don't add up to believe humans were the ones who did this.
Not humans? Are you telling me Matilde's gunshot wounds were self-inflicted?
That's enough!
After all this, you're still taking the side of humans?!
Cut the act! I know those humans are your own kind. All this mumbo jumbo is just your way of covering for them.
It's always been... just "you" and "me." There was never an "us."
Humans... Hmph...
The same old wounds drive invisible chains deep into the soul. These chains, known as prejudice, make us run from the facts, choosing instead the cozy comfort of what we already believe, just to scratch an emotional itch.
Prejudice, after all, is just us taming our own minds.
The truth? Give me a break. Another sob story about being dealt a bad hand and having no choice? Why should I have to be the one to play the long game?
Even if I were to cut them some slack, it would just be another opportunity for them to stick the knife in my back.
Unnecessary mercy is just asking for a world of hurt. I am "Justice," and I'll see to it myself.
Your pleas for comfort and reason are falling on deaf ears. All that's left is to try and command respect.
What's the difference? The ones who deserve to die are just one lot of humans instead of another.
Wipe them all out, and they'll never do anything evil again.
Veronica's face is a stone mask, her voice steady and controlled. But the tell-tale signs of her frayed nerves—her bloodshot eyes and a slight tremor in her voice—are a dead giveaway, revealing the cracks in her tough exterior.
The icy look in Veronica's eyes hardens as she lifts her lance slightly. A glint of silver light flashes across the blade, making the human flinch.
Your disappointment comes from a place of caring and hope. Your anxiety is eating you alive because you can't bear to watch her lose her way again.
In a flash, Veronica has the tip of her lance at your throat.
But the look of disappointment in your eyes is a thousand times worse than any accusation.
Don't you dare look at me like that!
You think I won't actually kill you?
That's your moral compass.
My justice is for mechanoids, and it's a justice that gives me peace. It's a kind of justice that has no place in the human rulebook.
What you think... means absolutely nothing to me.
As she says this, her eyelashes give a slight flutter before she closes her eyes. When they open again, Veronica has snapped back into her familiar, cold persona: the indifferent, severe, and solitary dragon rider.
So, let me give you a piece of advice. Stop looking at me like I'm some improved version of humanity, some purer form of human... and for heaven's sake, stop hoping I'll evolve into something better.
Don't burden me with your high morality or your long-suffering patience. Drop that savior complex, that arrogant sympathy you're hiding behind!
Take a good, long look at me—at these beasts!
She brings herself just inches from the human's face, her cold, razor-sharp gaze practically boring a hole through them.
Face us for what we really are! Acknowledge that our ambitions and desires burn just as fiercely as your own. We will survive, we will thrive, and if we have to, we will conquer, kill, and crush everything in our path.
We're not some nobler, more moral, or pure angels from your fantasies. We're just another species fighting for survival—one that can thrive perfectly well without the charitable scraps of your conscience.
What flashes before Veronica's eyes isn't the lion pride of the Epirus savanna anymore. It's all the pent-up anger from her journey, from the arena to Aerospace City.
Those who pin all their hopes on the kindness of another species... they're not even worthy of being called animals. They're just slaves.
Any species that can't stand on its own is doomed to go extinct.
Isn't survival just a matter of kill or be killed?
We're a species just like humans—we have to cut a bloody swathe through this world to get by.
Cutting a bloody swathe... that's a very "human" thing to say.
Honestly, you've taught us a lot—in every possible way.
She turns away, walking into the desolate, blood-scented air before unfurling her wings and taking to the sky, soaring toward the grim horizon.
I knew it... we're better off as enemies.
The wind whips by, carrying whispers as sharp as ice blades.
Epirus Ruins Recovery Mission Update: The Red Tide's affected area has expanded abnormally. To ensure personnel safety, headquarters will be sending reinforcements shortly. All ground personnel, gather immediately and prepare to head back to Babylonia.
Gray Raven Commandant, we've got some weird Red Tide activity popping up on the Epirus savanna. We need to get back to base, now. Where are you at right now? Get back to me after this message if you need a hand.
But deep down, you have a gut feeling that Veronica, the mechanoid woman you have come to know these past few days, wouldn't make a choice like that.
Beep—
A blaring horn cuts through the thick air as headlights from a vehicle behind you light up the path.
[player name]!
Sewani, the leader of the wanderer convoy, leans out of the window, waving frantically.
I sent them ahead. They're probably in the clear by now... We came back just for you, [player name]. This savanna is seriously dangerous right now.
No, it's not just that. The Red Tide has completely spooked the migrating animals, driving them into a frenzy.
The stampede scattered the migrating animals to the winds. The terrified, stressed ones got swept up into the herd, and it just snowballed from there. Even the lion prides and elephant herds couldn't get out of its way. The buffalo, especially—they've all practically gone bonkers. Hold on... where's your friend?
You explain to Sewani why Veronica left.
Heh... I'm not the least bit surprised, to be honest.
That's actually why we came back. To steer clear of the Red Tide, our convoy took a long way around, which brought us straight through here. Those fuel traces you stumbled upon were probably left by us.
It was the buffalo stampede. We managed to sidestep the Red Tide, but we slammed right into those charging beasts. Right there, both our convoy and your lions caught the full force of that chaos.
Fleeing animals, rampaging herds—it was a complete free-for-all... We didn't even have a chance to take stock of our own casualties.
A herd of buffalo almost sent our jeeps tail over teakettle, and as for your lions, a couple of them really got the short end of the stick. They were badly trampled and gored...
We had to open fire on the buffalo, we were between a rock and a hard place... It was a real dog-eat-dog situation out there; everyone was just scrambling to stay alive. We might have accidentally clipped this little one, but then again... she could've already been down by then.
Sewani gently strokes Matilde's head.
I can neither confirm nor deny it. If you need a scapegoat, you can pin it on me. But I've got a feeling... you don't really see it that way, do you?
We recognized them... They were your lions, so we figured you must be close by.
You can't just up and leave your kind behind, and neither can I.
That said, it wouldn't be entirely true to say I came back just out of concern for you. I just couldn't stomach... things ending like this. For you, for this savanna—I wanted to find a better ending for both of us.
Every creature's actions send ripples through the web of life. We're all in this together.
The girl's giving a questioning look as a low rumble of thunder rolls in—the final big downpour of the rainy season is on its way.
Rain comes down in buckets, driven by a howling wind. Sewani leans against the vehicle window, looking concerned at the people inside. She's given a wanderer convoy vehicle to the Commandant from Babylonia, who's off on a wild goose chase to find that strange mechanical girl.
You're really going after her? That seems way too risky.
Between the Red Tide, the Hetero-Creatures, and those rioting beasts running wild, everything's a nightmare. But she's a powerhouse; she can hold her own.
You can put a bandage on a flesh wound, but the scars she's carrying under all that armor won't heal if you just pretend they're not there.
You instantly regret your harsh words, realizing you've been cruel in your own way to Veronica.
Love and hate—it seems no one can escape being a product of both.
What are you worried about?
But the savanna's so vast—how will you ever find her?
With practiced ease, you pull up the real-time map. Epirus's tracking beacon is a steady pulse of light.
You trust her that much?
Serpentine streaks of crimson now creep across the entire savanna. The Red Tide surges and swells, consuming every inch of shattered greenery. Hetero-Creatures roam the eerily contaminated earthDand this is just the calm before the storm in a land swallowed by the Red Tide.
Just as the human had guessed, Veronica, flying solo, hesitated more than once before ultimately ditching the trail of the wanderers to plunge deeper into the more treacherous parts of the savanna, searching for the missing lion pride.
She soars higher, escaping the now completely savage horde below. Her wings beat against the thick, humid air, but they can't erase the terrifying things she's seen on her journey.
(That human... will be okay, right?)
Countless creatures bolt through the Red Tide, their silhouettes a blur of motion. The earth groans under the thundering iron hooves of the beast horde, their roars kicking up a thick cloud of dust.
It's all the explanation Veronica needs—she now knows what has become of the lion pride's home.
The sorrowful cries of antelopes and the wretched howls of hyenas are a frenzied drumbeat in this chaotic symphony of beast horde and Red Tide, a deadly duet turning the earth into a churning hellscape. This is supposed to be a slaughter with no one left to tell the tale.
Where are they... Where could they possibly be?!
Veronica flings aside a hyena that's trying to sink its teeth into her. She can't care less about the beastly horde raging around her; her eyes dart frantically, desperately searching for any familiar shapes. But her lion pride is nowhere to be seen.
Leopards were trampled to a pulp, elephants were twisted and corrupted by the Red Tide, and human vehicles lay overturned and smashed to smithereens. Amidst all this merciless devastation, no living thing stands a chance.
Faced with this overwhelming and savage force, the mechanical girl who has always put her faith in her own strength is at a loss. She hangs in the air, helpless, searching in vain.
There they are!
In the final month of the rainy season, a coalition of nomadic male lions attacked Hermione's pride. In the brutal fight that followed, the pride's male lion and her brother were killed. After the battle, which left both sides beaten to a pulp, the new lion king was going to kill all the cubs.
Without a second thought, she bit through the new lion king's throat, snatching her daughter from his jaws. It was then, from his battered corpse, that she first caught the strange and sinister scent of that red devil.
Hermione led her adolescent son, the other lionesses, and the cubs on a migration path before the rainy season ended. They weren't looking for food; they were running for their lives.
But the red devil caught up with her anyway. Under the chaotic hooves of a stampeding herd of water buffalo, she heard her daughter's cries. She saw her daughter's body being crushed into the mud. Even human gunfire couldn't scatter the frantic buffalo. Her daughter didn't stand a chance.
Grrr... Awwwrawr...
ROARRR—Hermiene throws her head back and lets out a long, agonizing howl that seems to tear the very sky.
Her heart feels like it's being ripped to shreds. With one last, deep look at her daughter crying in the mud, she grabs Epirus by the scruff of his neck, runs for the hills to get away from the stampede, and doesn't look back.
But the red devil is hot on her heels all the same.
She runs for her life, her companions dropping like flies, swallowed up by the riotous flood of beasts. The red waves gobble up countless shrieking creatures. In these strange tides, she hears eerie whispers, like a mother sorrowfully calling her child home to the nest.
But Hermione never misses a beatDshe just runs faster and faster. She's always been the best of the best. Her daughter is a chip off the old block. And... her future children will be too.
With fire in her eyes, she leaps onto a lone hill, sprinting toward the cliff face and climbing higher and higher. Epirus whimpers softly as the roaring waves of the Red Tide swell just beneath them. The drumming in her chest pushes her onward—faster, just a little faster.
Live. She has to live. She has to keep on living no matter what!
The drumming in her chest comes to a grinding halt during her final climb. Her mortal heart just can't keep up with her fierce will to beat the odds.
She falls from the heights.
Only to land in the arms of Veronica, who has swooped in on beating wings.
Hermione! Hermione! Wake up!
The mechanical girl has made it just in the nick of time to save Hermione, but after setting the lioness on a safe ledge, Veronica sees that she isn't breathing and has passed out. No matter how much Veronica calls to her, she doesn't get a peep in response.
CPR, CPR will work...
On a night as stormy as the one when they first crossed paths, Veronica finds herself mimicking a familiar human ritual. She gently rolls the lioness onto her side, finds the right spot on her chest, and presses her hands down.
My full strength would crush her. I've gotta rein it in. Come on, you can do this.
The lioness isn't coming around, not on her own anyway. Her cub, meanwhile, is a ball of nerves, pacing in a tight circle, nudging its mom's limp body, and whimpering at Veronica.
Veronica's movements are like a metronome—flawless and unwavering. But her mind is a whirlwind.
(Will she make it...)
Get positive pressure going. What else did he tell you? Start chest compressions, clear the airway... Would air from something made of metal actually help a living, breathing person? Get an airway going, check oxygen levels... I don't have any oxygen. What do they think counts as being alive? What is life... Do they see me as something that's living? Why can't I stop thinking about this? Am I doing the procedures right? It's going to die, isn't it? What happened to the lions? Why should I give a damn about any of this? Can this just stop? Why can't I stop thinking? Am I actually scared right now? Why does the way human brains are wired let them hide behind emotional walls? Am I allowed to feel scared? A mechanical being's mind runs on algorithmic logic, not easily swayed by raw emotions the way humans are. No matter what's going down, it's always easier to stay cool. Is it going to die? Emotions? Stop—don't overthink it. Veronica, just stick to the procedure. It's going to die, isn't it? Why are you still obsessing over this? What is this? It's going to die. Stay focused. You'll kill it if you don't. Of course I know what emotions are. I'm asking what this is!
What is... that?
There's a tiny bit of moisture in the corner of her eye, hot and unwelcome. A constant thrumming in her ears—she can't tell if it was the endless downpour in her heart or the rumbling of the grasslands, shivering with the last sighs of the rainy season.
That warm tear is about to fall onto Veronica's hand, which is gripping the other. Her clasped hands press down on the lioness's belly for one last, desperate time—
Drip. Drop.
Snap.
A rib cracks.
Veronica jerks her hands away.
That sound... It's like Serra's ragged breathing as she lay bleeding out, or maybe... the sickening scrape of a blade slicing through Alexei.
Or maybe... her mind is just a jumble of too many old, buried memories all crashing to the surface at once.
I went too far. I broke her ribs.
Logic is no help. Her thoughts are on fire, a chaotic but clear mess. Her body shivers, but her voice stays even, reciting forgotten first-aid steps for humans.
Don't stop. Clear the airway. Get oxygen in there.
Her cold, lifeless eyes watch everything, unmoved. Without even glancing down, she places her clasped hands back on the lioness.
But she can't stop them from shaking. Life is so fragile, so precious. Even with all her strength, even trying her hardest, she can't save it.
Staying calm now would be cruel.
...
Veronica takes a deep breath, a meaningless human habit for her mechanical body. Her clasped hands hover over the lioness, unable to push down again.
...
Well... this isn't my first time.
Like a deflating balloon, her shoulders slump and her head drops. Epirus nudges against her cold frame, a gentle lick on her arm.
Well... this isn't my first time.
It's not going to be the last time.
Two hands land gently on her left shoulder, their weight a comfort and a promise all at once.
Just like that fateful rainy night they met, the human arrives in the nick of time.
The mechanical girl snaps her head up as the endless, soggy rainy season finally gives way to a single shaft of sunlight.
She's always been able to handle everything on her own.
But now, she finally doesn't have to go it alone anymore.
