<i>Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Veronica finds herself adrift once more in an endless void.</i>
<i>Yet her consciousness module registers neither pain nor confusion,</i>
<i>only the sensation of resting comfortably upon something soft.</i>
<i>The air doesn't reek of the same smell of machine oil and vital fluid from her memories,</i>
<i>Instead, a gentle breeze dances across her frame, carrying with it a refreshing coolness.</i>
Then, she hears a voice she knows by heart.
Wakey-wakey!
Slowly, Veronica wakes up to the voice.
When she opens her eyes, she sees that same smile on her human friend.
A cold jolt of alertness surges through Veronica's consciousness module. She bolts upright and reaches for her lance—but her fingers find only soft fabric beneath her.
Where are we?
Where have they locked us in this time?!
Serra only offers a reassuring smile in response.
Bet it's that same nightmare again.
...?
It's been so long, and you're still haunted by those dreams every night.
It's okay, though. Why don't you rest a little longer?
Veronica scans her unfamiliar surroundings with cautious eyes but finds no gunfire, no blood, and no trace of laboratory equipment anywhere.
Her eyes find no trace of the mechanoid arena's cold metal surfacesDonly humble, soft fabrics surrounding her on all sides.
Above her, the same fabric stretches and flutters constantly in the strong wind.
Soft white specks drift in with the wind, reminiscent of the dust in the arena as they land on her frame with an icy touch.
Yet unlike dust, they're pristinely pure and soft.
Veronica, look! It's snow—it's snowing outside!
Serra excitedly catches the delicate snowflakes on her fingertips, her face lighting up with joy. Before Veronica even knows what's happening, Serra grabs her hand and pulls her outside their shelter.
The gentle chill she'd barely felt inside suddenly intensifies, as a gust of wind carrying tiny white specks sweeps across her face.
A vast expanse of white unfolds before her. It's nothing like the harsh, sterile white that permeated the laboratory, but something soft and pure, stretching as far as her visual modules can perceive.
Her field of vision contains no cold, hard metal edges. The air is free of the smell of machine oil and vital fluid she can't be more familiar with. She's new to everything she's now seeing.
The delicate white particles—what Serra called "snow"—drift down with the wind and land on Veronica, slowly building up a white blanket on her.
...
Whoa, I've never seen this much snow before!
Serra crouches down and gathers snow in her palms. Moments later, a small snow-white bird takes shape in her hands. She holds up her creation in excitement in front of Veronica's face.
Isn't it pretty?
But Veronica remains unmoved by Serra's cheerfulness, her cold, vigilant eyes continuing to scan the snowy landscape for any sign of danger.
Be quiet. Get back inside and hide.
Those people... they could find us at any moment.
So you don't remember any of it...
We escaped from that arena ages ago.
Don't worry, everything in that place has been destroyed. No one's going to drag us back there ever again.
...Destroyed?
Yeah, that... mad woman. She tried to trap us by setting everything in the laboratory on fire.
Then the whole place exploded... We were the only ones who made it out alive.
...
Serra gently places her hand on Veronica's mechanical frame, apparently trying to pass along her sense of peace. Her human fingers, chilled from the long exposure to the cold wind, rest against Veronica's metal surface.
So don't worry. We can stay here for just a while longer.
This is probably the last snowfall before spring. Once it stops, we can get back on the road.
Veronica looks at Serra, who's looking back at her with a smile. With it, the tension that's been gripping her finally melts away.
The two sit side by side on the soft snow, letting the drifting snowflakes settle gently upon their shoulders.
Where are we going after this?
Anywhere we want. The world out there is big, so we can just go wherever we want to go.
Or we could stay right here and make this place our home.
As long as we can stay together like this, that's all that matters.
...Alright.
Overcome with happiness, Serra lies back in the snow and lets the soft powder embrace her body, seemingly immune to the coldness.
Her eyes, brimming with joy, gaze up at the vast, boundless sky before turning to meet Veronica's eyes.
When spring comes, this place will bloom with flowersDjust like in the painting.
And when that time comes...
Veronica picks up where Serra left off.
When that time comes, we'll take another photo together.
The two of us sitting in a sea of flowers at sunset.
Veronica gazes across the endless snowfield, attempting to construct an image in her consciousness module of this very place blanketed in flowers.
She imagines the sea of flowers taking on different hues as it is bathed in sunset and starlight.
And through it all, the two of them are together just as they are now, sitting shoulder to shoulder in this very spot.
What about your mechanical bird drone?
Let's take a photo here, right now.
Serra, however, falls silent.
...?
Veronica turns her head to find Serra still in the same position, lying on the soft snow with her eyes closed, seemingly resting.
She seems completely unbothered by the cold snowflakes landing on her body.
The snowfall intensifies. Within moments, a thin white layer begins to build up on Serra's face.
The snow gradually obscures her features as it hardens into a ghastly white mask of frost.
Aren't you cold?
Veronica reaches out and tries to take hold of Serra's hand from under the snow.
But the moment she touches it, everything before her shatters like thin ice and falls apart into fragments.
The illusions in her consciousness module collapse and dissolve, revealing once again a blinding whiteness.
This isn't the pristine white of a vast snowy plain, but the sterile pallor of a laboratory built of metal and reinforced barriers.
The hand she's now holding has the same temperature and texture as her ownDhard, cold, and metallic.
...!
Intense waves of pain surge through Veronica's consciousness module once more. She knows her frame hasn't sustained any damage, yet she still feels that something is utterly wrong.
Her visual sensors receive clear signals with no signs of interference, yet she finds herself unable to analyze the specific data of what lies before her.
A small mechanoid with a plain, unremarkable coating lies motionless before Veronica.
It shows no response to external stimuli, apparently in some kind of dormant state.
Veronica can't seem to sense the flow of timeDeverything she once perceived with such precision has now come to a complete halt.
Right then, a hauntingly familiar human voice shatters this frozen stillness.
Fancy finally meeting you, Veronica.
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dolores, and I'm the master of this arena.
The human's voice creeps straight into Veronica's audio sensors, carrying with it the venomous touch of a serpent.
...!
She whirls around, lance at the ready, only to find nothing behind her.
Her lance pierces nothing but thin air.
Yet the voice returns and floods the room. Veronica, however, can't pinpoint where it's coming from.
It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.
The human voice is like sticky spider silk, silently weaving through every inch of the cramped laboratory.
The voice, instantly tugging at the data within Veronica's memory module, matches a certain uncanny human voice she'd heard before in the darkness.
The same human voice that repeatedly tried to strangle her will to resist while she drifted in dark oblivion.
...So it was you all along!
Serra and I made a promise, but she failed to keep her end of the bargain.
I thought I'd take a little nap and wake up to find exactly what I wanted. Never thought it'd turn out like this.
So I saw to it that Serra was properly punished for her little blunder.
I left her consciousness trapped inside that mechanoid shell... where she'd be able to take her time to reflect upon her mistake.
The voice continues as it goes from being intangible to taking on a definite form.
Behind the one-way mirror in front of Veronica, the voice continues to spew unbearable venom.
The mirror reflects Veronica's face, twisted with rage.
Splash—
She swings her lance, shattering the mirror into countless pieces.
Except there's nothing behind the shattered mirror.
Right then, she hears sadistic, delightful giggling coming from somewhere else.
Show yourself now!
Don't be such a coward!
Show yourself now, and I'll lend you an ear to any last words you have to say.
You don't want to wait until I drive my lance through your throat!
Again, nothing but giggling. Soft and sickeningly sweet, the girl behind the voice laughs like she's heard something extremely amusing.
You know, Veronica, you're different from all the other mechanoids in this arena.
They were no better than garbage, worthless, useless hunks of metal...
Shut up!
C'mon, I had my eye on you all along. Let me at least finish what I have to say, will you?
You know, your dear friend Serra... she was ever so polite when she spoke to me.
I know you want to wrap your hands around my throat and ask me to give you your friend back...
But I'm not the kind of villain who's destined for a tragic ending.
So, leave it to me. Let's get ourselves ready for some... "entertainment" now.
Well then, are you ready to meet your friend... Veronica?
Wakey-wakey, "Serra".
With a harsh scraping of metal, the mechanoid that's been in sleep mode slowly rises to her feet.
...
I... am... ready to serve you... Master...
Target of attack... Awaiting... confirmation...
Your target is—Veronica.
Now—kill her for me!
